Xie Chi stared blankly at this face.

His hair had grown long again, dirty and long, with ends sticking out from under his steel helmet as if soaked and mixed in muddy water and blood. His chin was covered with uneven stubble, probably roughly shaved with a knife. His face was black in some places and red in others – except for his eyeballs, there was hardly a clean spot anywhere.

Xie Chi knew this was too normal for soldiers, especially those from the divisions that had retreated from Shanghai. She had seen several like this in the hospital. After four months, they probably wouldn’t recognize each other.

He Feng’s originally somewhat lifeless gaze suddenly trembled violently. He yanked off her mask and cursed in a low, harsh voice, “Damn you! Didn’t you leave? Why are you still in Nanjing?”

“I came back.”

“Are you looking for death!” He Feng was burning with rage, raising his fist to hit her. With his hand raised in mid-air, he suddenly pulled her head into his embrace, his sinister voice carrying a withered sadness and tenderness. “Are you trying to kill me?”

He had lost a lot of weight but was still strong. Xie Chi was smothered in his arms, unable to breathe. When she finally managed a breath, it was filled with the smell of gunpowder from his body. It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but the emotion made her sink into it.

Xie Chi lifted her head, her nose touching his Adam’s apple, greedily inhaling every trace of his scent, her voice trembling slightly: “Didn’t you retreat? Why didn’t you leave? They’re looking for soldiers everywhere.”

He Feng didn’t answer her, turning to glance outside. “You became a nurse?”

“I’m helping at the hospital, Gulou Hospital. That American is Xue Dingqing’s friend. He takes good care of me. Don’t worry about me.”

“Taking care of you means letting you run around outside?”

“There aren’t enough people. There’s no choice.”

“Wanzhi—”

They were calling her.

Xie Chi gripped his wrist tightly, not wanting to leave, unwilling to listen. “Take me with you.”

“Silly girl, what nonsense are you talking?” He Feng wiped his hands on his pants, covered her face, wiped his mouth, and forcefully kissed her forehead. “Go back quickly. I’ll watch you leave.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Where are you hiding?”

“I told you not to worry about me.”

Xie Chi remained silent.

They were still calling: “Wanzhi, where are you?”

He Feng pushed her. “Go on.”

Xie Chi gripped his sleeve tightly, urgently instructing: “Don’t wear your military uniform. Change clothes.”

“Even if I change clothes, I don’t look like a civilian.”

“Still, don’t wear the military uniform.” She looked down, pinching his clothing at the waist. “Aren’t you cold? Why is it empty inside? Wear more layers.”

“Stop talking nonsense, go quickly!” He Feng scolded in a low voice, pushing her out. “Hurry.”

“Be careful.”

“Mm.”

He Feng watched her climb over the wall, walk to the group of people, and get in the car.

They asked her a few questions. Xie Chi kept her head down as if she hadn’t answered anything.

He Feng escorted them for a short distance.

But he couldn’t keep following – first, he had a leg injury and couldn’t keep up; second, there were many devils along the way, making it unsuitable for ambushes.

And fighting head-on at a time like this was undoubtedly seeking death.

He quickly climbed up a building that hadn’t been completely bombed, lying on the top floor and watching the ambulance drive back to the safety zone before leaving with peace of mind.

…

Xie Chi became restless.

She was both happy and sad.

He Feng was still alive, but he was living in the fallen city of Nanjing.

Did he have food? Was he alone? Was he injured? Did he have medicine?…

Too many questions she hadn’t had time to ask.

The car returned to the hospital, and they could hear the commotion inside from far away.

Japanese soldiers had come to arrest soldiers again.

Looking at these evil human skins, Xie Chi couldn’t think about He Feng. She followed the doctors and nurses out of the car, transporting the injured inside.

The leading Japanese captain wanted to examine the people on the stretchers, turning the seriously injured refugees over and over, making McCallen’s face red with anger.

A group of Japanese soldiers dragged several men out of the hospital, declaring emphatically: These are plainclothes soldiers!

Xie Chi knew two of them were soldiers who had changed into civilian clothes, but she was helpless. They were all helpless.

Kill them.

Want to kill people, kill them all, tear them apart…

But she didn’t dare.

Not to mention taking action – even lifting her head was dangerous, saying one word would be seeking death. Not only couldn’t she save her compatriots, she might also implicate the hospital.

Endure, endure, endure, endure, endure every day…

Going crazy.

Going crazy.

Going crazy.

The Japanese soldiers didn’t have enough manpower. Those they couldn’t take away, they dragged outside for immediate execution.

They had a set of principles for inspection that they never followed – checking hand calluses, shoulder calluses, seeing if skin was dark.

Although many fair-skinned and tender men were still “treated as” soldiers and taken away.

Arresting remnant soldiers?

Bullshit, damn it, fucking bastards.

It was just an excuse to kill people.

How many people had they killed? Countless. The corpses at Xiaguan had formed mountains – estimated at twenty to thirty thousand.

The ditches were filled with bodies.

Such slaughter continued and was getting worse.

Every day was spent wavering between collapse and further collapse. There was nothing you couldn’t imagine that they wouldn’t do.

Countless raped girls were brought in, young and old shot and stabbed were brought in – those who could be saved, those who couldn’t…

The safety zone was packed with 150,000 people. They weren’t satisfied killing outside and had to come in to kill.

What to do.

What to do?

What to do?

The Japanese left happily, also stealing a pile of trinkets from the nurses’ dormitory.

They took money, watches and necklaces, food too – not even sparing a single piece of candy.

Each time they were ransacked, it was like taking a trip to hell – not only physical torture but also mental oppression. Through killing and rape, they forced you to submit to them from inside out.

The soldiers had yielded.

The civilians had become numb.

How much longer could these shaky spines hold up?

How much longer would they hold up?

…

Nanjing was like an airtight iron cage – you couldn’t get in, couldn’t get out.

People outside panicked, knowing nothing about the situation inside.

The Xiao family had been doing post-war work, making considerable contributions to anti-Japanese propaganda and material fundraising. Their son had insisted on going to Nanjing with the Jiang family’s daughter and had been without news for many days. The elderly couple were extremely anxious and finally couldn’t sit still, going with a group of journalists and other figures to question the Japanese consulate in Shanghai.

Most who came had relatives and friends still in Nanjing.

“Why block the news!”

“What exactly happened in Nanjing!”

The Japanese response was both laughable and infuriating.

“We paid great attention to protecting Nanjing’s main buildings and residents during our bombing.”

“There are still threatening elements in the city, and some troops are still resisting. We take great care of the civilians in the city, sending them food and providing medical services.”

“The fires were set by Chinese troops.”

…

Xiao Wangyun had a fever. After taking medicine, A’Ru and Meng Yuan took turns caring for him.

At night, he suddenly woke up. He had dreamed of some bad things, some… unspeakable, unimaginable things.

“How are you feeling?” Meng Yuan stayed by his side, not closing her eyes all along.

Xiao Wangyun frowned tightly, feeling around for his glasses.

Meng Yuan picked up the glasses and handed them to him with both hands.

Xiao Wangyun put them on and said thanks.

He lay in a small shed, with a thin mattress underneath and thick straw below that, very warm, but he had a cold and kept shivering.

Meng Yuan sat hugging her knees, watching him, tucking the blanket at his feet tighter. “You still have a high fever. The wound on your leg is infected.”

Xiao Wangyun’s head hurt terribly, and his leg felt useless, sore and painful. He tried to get up to continue looking for Jiang Shouyue but fell back down before he could sit up. “How long did I sleep?”

“Half a day.”

He rubbed his head, in extreme pain.

Meng Yuan asked carefully, “What happened?”

“My fiancée is missing.”

Meng Yuan was speechless.

“It’s been a day and night already!”

“Don’t worry. If she’s not here, there are several other safety zones outside.” Meng Yuan unconsciously said a string of words. “What does she look like? What clothes was she wearing? Tell me, and I can help you keep an eye out.”

“Light yellow coat, blue qipao inside, shoes… I can’t remember the shoes. About your height, very fair skin, big eyes.”

Meng Yuan nodded. “I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Meng Yuan stole a glance at him. “You’re engaged?”

“We just privately committed to each other. We haven’t had time to meet the parents yet.”

“I’m from Nanjing, grew up here. I know many of the refugees here. When it gets light, I’ll ask around for you one by one. Maybe someone happened to see her.”

What was she doing? She clearly admired him – wouldn’t it be perfect if that woman was gone?

But Meng Yuan couldn’t feel happy at all. In this time when their nation and compatriots suffered, her own petty romantic feelings were already insignificant. Now, she just wanted to survive, for them all to survive together, for no more people to die.

“Then I’ll trouble you.”

Meng Yuan shook her head. “It’s a small matter.”

…

Japanese soldiers treated Chinese people’s suffering as entertainment.

Having occupied the city with nothing to do, when happy they’d grab some women, when unhappy they’d grab some women too.

Again under the banner of arresting soldiers, they charged into safety zones with guns, sometimes taking people away to assault them, returning them after half a day or a day, sometimes handling matters on the spot, beginning their evil acts in front of countless eyes. Without any avoidance, shameless, proudly naked, swinging their evil parts and greeting the refugees trembling nearby in fear.

After committing evil, they left happily, also stealing a couple of chickens.

Just as one squad left, another arrived.

At dawn, the safety zone was in chaos. This time, Meng Yuan suffered.

A’Ru hugged her, but the Japanese soldiers didn’t take A’Ru. Both had smeared their faces with soot. A’Ru had cut her hair following Xiao Wangyun’s advice. Meng Yuan said she was an opera singer – she couldn’t do without her hair.

The Japanese soldier grabbed her hair and dragged her across the ground. She cried loudly for help, but not one person dared move. Everyone kept their heads down, not daring to look or speak, afraid misfortune would befall them.

“Damn bastards, let me go.” She scratched the Japanese soldier’s hand hard. “Little devils, damn you! May you die horribly—”

Xiao Wangyun was still feverish and struggled to get up, dragging his leg over to push away the Japanese soldier, protecting Meng Yuan behind him. He spread his arms, face pale and particularly weak. “You…”

After just two words, the Japanese soldier cursed loudly, drew his sword and swung it over.

Meng Yuan stood behind him, watching helplessly as Xiao Wangyun’s head fell from his neck onto the ground.

Blood sprayed all over her face.

The Japanese soldier laughed loudly and kicked Xiao Wangyun’s head away with one foot. Blood scattered in a red arc through the air.

Meng Yuan watched his head roll like a ball to a distant spot on the ground, bouncing several times before finally stopping by rocks at the edge of a ditch. His eyes were still open, retaining the full anger he had when protecting her.

She couldn’t believe her eyes.

Was this the real world? Why was this happening?

His body fell down.

His limbs were still trembling.

Meng Yuan clutched her head and screamed, “Ah—”

She couldn’t breathe properly, her whole body falling backward, as if her heart was being gripped by sharp claws and slowly pulled out.

So painful.

So painful!

The safety zone administrator rushed over to stop the Japanese soldiers. Whatever they said, Meng Yuan could no longer hear.

Blood splattered into her eyes. She looked at the sky – red sky, red clouds, red world – and gradually lost consciousness.

Yes.

She wasn’t dreaming.

This ferocious, bloody, real,

Human world.

…

The third day after Nanjing’s fall.

Meng Yuan had been unconscious. When she woke up, she learned that Xiao Wangyun’s head had been impaled on barbed wire on the street outside the safety zone. The Japanese soldiers said he was a Chinese soldier – anyone who resisted in the future would end up like him.

Xiao Wangyun was thirty-three years old this year. At seventeen, he went abroad to study, staying in France for nine years, returning after the Northeast fell. He thought that in the nation’s crisis, men should naturally die fighting on the battlefield. However, with elderly parents at home and being an only son, he couldn’t bear to disobey his father and mother. Though he never took up arms, he had always devoted himself to anti-Japanese work in the rear, using his pen as a weapon and his heart to educate people. Xie Chi’s path of killing Japanese spies and eliminating traitors was largely influenced by him.

Though Xiao Wangyun couldn’t be called delicate, he was clean and elegant, clearly the appearance of a scholar.

But he had stood up.

And was killed to warn others.

Ridiculously, before leaving, the Japanese soldiers also stripped off his overcoat and sweater because they looked like good material and seemed valuable, along with his shirt and watch… Finally, he was robbed of everything except a pair of shorts, thrown on the ground spread-eagle.

Only after the Japanese soldiers completely left did the people in the safety zone dare to bury him.

Meng Yuan couldn’t bear that his head was still outside, suffering endless humiliation. Disregarding all attempts to stop her, she risked her life running out to retrieve his head. Before she could return, she was discovered by two Japanese soldiers.

She didn’t dare run toward the safety zone, so relying on her familiarity with Nanjing’s streets and alleys, she led the Japanese soldiers in circles.

Meng Yuan ran around frantically like a madwoman, shaking off the devils behind her only to encounter new ones. In the depths of winter, her clothes were soaked with sweat.

She ran into an alley and was suddenly stopped by a man. She pounded him desperately, screaming hysterically.

“Don’t shout! Don’t shout—” He Feng slapped her, not controlling his strength well, hitting her so that her inner lip struck her teeth, filling her mouth with blood.

Meng Yuan saw the military uniform in front of her and finally calmed down.

He Feng pressed her down to hide behind the wall. There were too many Japanese soldiers on the street right now – he didn’t dare act rashly and could only wait for them to pass.

Meng Yuan’s legs had gone soft from running and she couldn’t get up. He Feng picked her up and ran, hiding in his concealed location.

She stood blankly in the center of the room.

He Feng waved his hand. “Lost your soul?”

Only then did Meng Yuan come to her senses, pursing her lips and tightly protecting Xiao Wangyun’s head, retreating to the wall to kneel and sit.

He Feng stood sideways by the window looking out, observing for a while before sitting over and throwing her half a piece of bread. Meng Yuan turned away, tears streaming down.

He Feng didn’t want to disturb her, letting her cry alone while he sat at the door with his gun to rest.

When it got dark and He Feng was about to go out, Meng Yuan was still curled up in the corner, motionless.

“Don’t run around. I’m going out for a bit.”

Not long after He Feng left, someone else came up – it was Li Changsheng.

Seeing a girl crouched in the corner holding a human head, he was stunned for a moment, then walked over to ask, “Are you alright?”

Meng Yuan looked grief-stricken and wouldn’t look at him.

This building had been bombed so that the entrance was completely sealed – it would take considerable effort to climb in. “How did you get up here?”

“Did my brother bring you up?” The girl wouldn’t speak, and he was at a loss. “Should I take you to the safety zone?”

Meng Yuan was like a wooden chicken.

Li Changsheng stopped asking, sat by the wall, drank some water, and leaned back to rest.

After sleeping for an hour, he woke up again and saw Meng Yuan still staring blankly. He picked up his gun and ammunition to go out. “Don’t run around, just stay put.”

…

Fighting alone, even with some skills, you couldn’t fight one against a hundred, much less resist machine guns and artillery. They could only kill isolated Japanese soldiers or attack by night. Kill one, burn one; kill a group, burn a group – leaving not a trace.

Near dawn, He Feng finally returned to find Meng Yuan still sitting against the wall, not eating, drinking, or sleeping.

He walked over and crouched in front of her, picking up that piece of bread. “Don’t want to live anymore?”

Meng Yuan kept her eyes lowered, not even blinking her eyelashes.

“I saved your life, not to let you starve to death.” He Feng held up the bread. “Do you know how hard it is to find a piece of bread like this at a time like this?”

Still no response.

“Only by living can you take revenge, can you watch them get driven out of China.” He Feng brought the bread to her mouth. “They wish we’d all starve to death, freeze to death, to save bullets and effort swinging swords.”

Hearing the three words “swinging swords,” Meng Yuan was immediately triggered, suddenly grabbing the bread and stuffing it whole into her mouth, chewing hard mixed with tears.

Only then did He Feng see clearly the head she held in her arms. “Four-eyes?” He pulled away Meng Yuan’s wrapping cloth and confirmed it was Xiao Wangyun. “Who are you? How do you happen to be holding his head?”

Meng Yuan looked at him. The bread in her mouth was dry and hard, difficult to swallow. He Feng handed her water, and Meng Yuan gulped it down.

“Slowly.”

Meng Yuan swallowed the bread, her voice hoarse: “You knew him?”

“He’s my woman’s friend.”

“Where is your woman?”

“In the safety zone.”

“The safety zone isn’t safe now either. He was beheaded alive in the safety zone.” Friend? Meng Yuan studied him carefully. His face was so black it was impossible to make out his real appearance. “Your woman wouldn’t be… Xie Wanzhi, would she?”

He Feng suddenly perked up. “You know her?”

Meng Yuan wiped her face clean. “Haven’t we met on a bridge, that night by the Qinhuai River?”

He Feng remembered – it was that little girl who had stared at him.

“That’s right, it’s you. I heard from sister Wanzhi that you went to join the army. Are you from the Shanghai battlefield? Does she know you’re alive?”

“She knows.”

“Why did the army abandon us and run? “

He Feng lowered his eyes. Facing such questioning from civilians for the first time, he felt both grief and shame. “Afraid of total annihilation.”

“Did the Japanese do this in Shanghai too? Do they do this elsewhere?”

“Not this crazy.”

“Then why do this to us?”

He Feng didn’t answer.

“Do people outside know?”

“Probably not.”

“So no one cares about us anymore?”

“Maybe.”

Meng Yuan cried uncontrollably: “So it will just continue like this?”

“I don’t know.” He Feng silently retreated, leaning his head against the wall. After a long silence, he suddenly said,

“I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you.”

…