Chapter 29: The Assassination of Gusu Fu!

The words of that Japanese major were indeed prudent, but at this moment, Gu Shoufu was seized by a surge of bravado and an urgent desire to see for himself, making it impossible for him to let go of the idea. Hearing the major’s caution, Gu Shoufu grew displeased and snapped, “Idiot! You’re nothing but a coward!”

“With the empire’s warriors guarding me and our indomitable armored vehicles at my side, how could those ignorant and lowly Chinese troops possibly threaten me?” he declared. “When they see me, they’ll be scared out of their wits! How would they dare come forward?”

Scolding his subordinate, Gu Shoufu continued, “Besides, even if they do find the courage to rush at us, aren’t you and the rest of the imperial warriors here? With the Emperor’s radiance shining upon us, we have nothing to fear!”

“Yes, Division Commander, your words are wise!” his officers chorused obsequiously. “Division Commander, your brilliance and valor are unmatched!” “With you here, the Chinese army would never dare to attack!”

Surrounded by such flattery, Gu Shoufu only grew more arrogant, bursting into wild laughter.

“Well, well! We’ve caught a big fish!” Chen Qingzhi set down his binoculars, unable to contain his excitement.

“Company commander, who did you spot?” Fang Xiaodong, seeing Chen Qingzhi so elated, grew intensely curious, sensing something extraordinary had happened.

“It’s none other than Gu Shoufu, commander of the Japanese Sixth Division, along with a group of high-ranking officers. They’re inspecting Nanjing with only a small escort. You have to admit, Gu Shoufu is truly bold!” Chen Qingzhi exclaimed.

The name Gu Shoufu and his Sixth Division was infamous, notorious in China and hated with a burning resentment. The Sixth Division had entered Chinese territory in July 1937, taking part in the invasion of China and committing endless atrocities. Under Gu Shoufu’s indulgence, the division pillaged, murdered, and torched mercilessly, slaughtering over nine thousand innocent civilians in Baoding and Zhengding alone.

During the Battle of Shanghai, the Sixth Division captured Kunshan, and again, under Gu Shoufu’s orders, a massacre ensued, turning the Jiangsu-Zhejiang region into a blood-soaked hell. Moreover, history records that it was the Sixth Division, in concert with the 16th, 18th, and 114th Divisions, that perpetrated the Nanjing Massacre. Notably, the infamous “hundred-man killing contest” murderers also hailed from the Sixth Division.

In short, the Sixth Division’s crimes on Chinese soil were too many to recount. Now, having encountered such a villain, how could Chen Qingzhi possibly allow him to escape unscathed?

“Gu Shoufu, you spurn the path to heaven and choose to rush to hell!” Chen Qingzhi snarled with a wicked grin. “I’ll gladly claim your head!”

“This is justice for the countless civilians who perished under your hand!”

With that, Chen Qingzhi turned to Fang Xiaodong. “Quick, assemble the mortar and aim at the Japanese. When I give the order, fire at once!”

“Yes!” Fang Xiaodong replied, his face aglow with excitement as he directed several soldiers to set down and assemble the 62mm mortar they’d been carrying.

Before departing, Chen Qingzhi had prudently ordered his men to bring three mortars, just in case—and now, that foresight was proving invaluable. His plan was to bombard Gu Shoufu with mortar fire, but fearing the bombardment might miss or fail to kill the target, he added, “Fang Xiaodong, how’s your marksmanship?”

“Not quite as good as yours, but I can hold my own,” Fang Xiaodong answered modestly.

Satisfied, Chen Qingzhi nodded. Fang Xiaodong was a humble man, and if he spoke so, it meant his shooting was indeed reliable.

“Let’s get closer,” Chen Qingzhi said. “We’ll take out that old devil Gu Shoufu at close range.”

Fang Xiaodong’s excitement was palpable—his face flushed with anticipation. To snipe a Japanese division commander was a feat that promised glory and honor. If successful, the tale would spread far and wide—a staggering military achievement.

With his heart pounding, Fang Xiaodong trembled with excitement.

Chen Qingzhi instructed the ten or so soldiers to hold their ground; when they heard gunfire, they were to open fire with the mortars, unleash three rapid rounds, and then withdraw immediately without lingering.

The men nodded in understanding, and only then did Chen Qingzhi, satisfied, lead Fang Xiaodong carefully forward.

They moved with utmost caution. Chen Qingzhi had expected that Gu Shoufu’s entourage would be guarded by sentries, but to his astonishment, he saw not a single one.

He could not help but sneer, “Heaven dooms those whom it wishes to destroy by first making them arrogant.”

It was hard to believe Gu Shoufu would be so reckless—accompanied by only a squad of soldiers and without any sentries. This was arrogance beyond measure!

But for Chen Qingzhi, this was a rare opportunity—a stroke of fate, as if destiny itself had arranged for him to meet and eliminate Gu Shoufu here and now.

If he failed to seize such a chance, it would be a crime in itself.

When they were about seven hundred meters from Gu Shoufu, Chen Qingzhi stopped. This was as close as they dared get; any further, and they risked being spotted. Besides, seven hundred meters was about the effective maximum range of the Type 38 rifle.

To improve their aim, Chen Qingzhi had given Fang Xiaodong an optical sight—claiming it was scavenged from the battlefield, so as not to raise suspicions.

Once everything was ready, Chen Qingzhi chambered a round, raised his rifle, and took aim at Gu Shoufu, carefully adjusting for wind speed and direction. With a cold laugh, he murmured, “Gu Shoufu, today is your day of reckoning.”

“Though I am powerless to change the present or save the people of Nanjing, remember this: as long as I live, I will fight you devils to the bitter end!”

“If I cannot yet avenge all my slaughtered compatriots, then let me at least claim some interest for them today.”

“And you, Gu Shoufu, are the first!”

Without hesitation, Chen Qingzhi squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

A sharp crack split the air. The bullet howled through the distance and struck Gu Shoufu’s head with deadly precision.

At seven hundred meters, Chen Qingzhi could clearly see Gu Shoufu’s skull burst apart, like a watermelon struck by a hammer—instantly shattered.

…