140: Chapter 140 The Lights on the North Shore

The aftershocks of the explosion slowly dissipated across the icy surface of the river.

That Japanese Army gunboat, which had been chasing them like a soul-reaping specter, had already turned into countless pieces of burning wreckage. With an unwilling roar, it sank bit by bit into the dark depths of the river.

The final fireworks had come to an end.

The ecstasy of surviving a disaster lasted only a few short minutes in the survivors' chests before being replaced by a deeper, more bone-chilling reality.

Cold.

Hunger.

And boundless despair.

The cheers gradually died down, replaced by a deathly silence.

The sound of a little girl crying was exceptionally clear in the silence, only to be immediately muffled by her mother.

Everyone stared at the vast river around them with vacant, hollow eyes.

They had escaped hell.

Only to find themselves floating in another hell, one that was even bigger and colder.

[...They won, but what happens next?]

[Out of ammunition and food, how is this any different from waiting to die?]

[I can't watch anymore... Hope was just given, only to be snuffed out immediately?]

[Master Xi... does Master Xi still have a way?]

The bullet chat in the Livestream room also fell from the previous carnival into deep anxiety.

Chen Xi leaned against the gunwale of the sampan, gasping for air.

Every breath brought a searing, burning pain throughout his entire body.

The icy river water soaked through his clothes, taking away the last trace of warmth from his body.

He opened the system panel and took a look.

Ammunition for the 'slingshot': Zero.

Number of 'Armed Swarm': Zero.

System energy: Only three percent remaining, just enough to maintain basic vital sign monitoring and communication with the "Great Wall".

He, too, was out of ammunition and food.

This was the first time since entering this world that he felt so powerless.

He could kill hundreds or thousands of enemies.

But he couldn't conjure up a warm flatbread or a piece of cotton clothing to ward off the cold.

He looked at the figures huddled together and shivering on the boat, and a sense of powerlessness, more painful than the wounds on his body, tightly gripped his heart.

Just then.

"What... what is that?"

A survivor suddenly stretched out a trembling hand, pointing toward the distant, pitch-black north bank.

Everyone's hearts instantly leaped into their throats.

They looked in the direction he was pointing.

In a large, dense patch of reeds on the north bank of the distant river, a faint light, almost swallowed by the darkness, was flickering.

Fear seized the crowd once again.

Is it... is it another patrol boat?

Had they just escaped from the shark's mouth only to run into another one?

Chen Xi's pupils, however, suddenly constricted.

He stared fixedly at that point of light.

No!

That's not a searchlight!

The flickering of that light is rhythmic!

It's Morse code!

He immediately connected to the "Great Wall" encrypted channel in his mind.

"Director Long! North bank of the river, eleven o'clock direction, discovered an unknown light signal!"

"Signal frequency: Short, short, long. Repeated three times."

Year 2026, "Great Wall" Command Center.

Director Long's voice instantly rang out, carrying an unquestionable command.

"Intelligence Team, History Team, decipher it immediately!"

"Compare it against all known communication signals of the Japanese and puppet armies!"

The massive state machine once again began to operate frantically for that faint point of light.

A few seconds later.

The voice of an intelligence analyst carried a hint of confusion.

"Report! The signal does not match any known Japanese or puppet army signals!"

Director Long's heart sank.

If it wasn't the enemy, could it be... a third-party force?

Just then, in the history verification channel, a white-haired old professor suddenly stood up, staring intently at the simple rhythm of the light points on the screen.

His voice trembled violently with excitement.

"Wait a minute! This signal... I've seen it!"

"This isn't a standard military code! This is... this is a secret contact signal used by our early underground organizations!"

He rushed to another computer, his hands tapping rapidly on the keyboard to pull up a long-buried, highly classified file.

"Found it!"

"This is... this is an internal contact code used by a river defense unit of the New Fourth Army Guerrillas operating along the Yangtze River at that time!"

"Director Long!" Elder Qian's voice carried a sob.

"It's friendly forces! It's our comrades!"

Boom!

The words "friendly forces" exploded like a thunderclap throughout the entire Command Center.

Everyone jumped up from their seats, their faces written with unbelievable ecstasy.

Director Long clenched his fists tightly, and for the first time, tears welled up in his fierce eyes.

He picked up the communicator and said to Chen Xi in a voice suppressed with immense emotion.

"Ghost..."

"It's friendly forces."

"It's our... comrades."

Chen Xi's head buzzed.

A massive, indescribable warm current surged from the depths of his cold heart, instantly rushing to his limbs and bones.

He almost collapsed from this sudden joy.

He used all his strength just to keep himself from falling over.

"Respond to the signal!" Director Long's voice came again, "The response signal is: Long, short, short!"

Chen Xi immediately raised the tactical watch on his wrist.

He channeled all the remaining system energy into the screen.

Then, toward the north bank, he flashed it three times according to the rhythm of "Long, short, short".

After doing all this, the watch screen went completely dark.

The river surface returned to a deathly silence once more.

Everyone held their breath, staring fixedly at the direction of the north bank.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Ten minutes.

Just as everyone's hearts were gradually sinking again.

In the reed marshes of the north bank, there was finally movement.

Several small, inconspicuous awning boats paddled out from the reeds silently, like ghosts.

About a dozen figures stood on the boats.

Their clothes were simple, even ragged.

The weapons in their hands were only old Hanyang 88 rifles and spears.

But their statures were as upright as pines.

Their eyes were as bright as stars.

In the center of the faded Octagonal caps on their heads, a bright red star, like a burning flame, pierced through all the darkness in the glimmer of dawn.

The small boats stopped beside Chen Xi's sampan.

The leader was a young officer who looked to be barely in his early twenties.

There was still a hint of boyishness on his face, but his gaze was exceptionally steady.

He glanced at the emaciated survivors with numb eyes on the boat, then at the blood-stained and exhausted Chen Xi.

A flash of respect and sympathy passed through his eyes.

He gave Chen Xi a standard military salute.

Then, he reached out his hand, which was somewhat rough from years of labor.

On his face was an incomparably sincere and warm smile.

"Hello, comrade."

"Welcome home."