Chapter Fifty-Three: The Live Ammunition Training Grounds

At this moment, Chen Qingzhi was still at the headquarters of the Independent Brigade, training new recruits alongside several regimental commanders, entirely unaware that the bandits from Luo Qing Stronghold had already set their sights on him. Yet, even if he were to know, it is likely Chen Qingzhi would merely smile faintly, steadfast and unafraid.

Although his brigade had only four or five hundred veteran soldiers, they were by no means comparable to those bandits. The veterans of the Independent Brigade were all elite fighters who had carved a bloody path through the battlefield of Nanjing; each had at least a few enemy lives to their name. If such men were to be wiped out by a gang of bandits, then Chen Qingzhi might as well abandon any talk of fighting the enemy and find a block of tofu to smash his head upon.

The training ground echoed with the shouts and cries of combat, carrying far into the distance and resounding beneath the sky. The training was grueling; though the soldiers grumbled, not one gave up, all persevering through hardship. After all, if everyone else can endure, why should you be the one who cannot? Does it mean you are truly inferior? Moreover, their instructors often repeated, “Sweat more in training, bleed less in battle!” A bit of hardship now is nothing; but if one slacks off and avoids effort, what is lost on the battlefield will be more than sweat—it will be blood.

Further, Chen Qingzhi himself, the brigade commander, trained alongside them, demonstrating every exercise, pushing himself even harder than the others, living and eating as the ordinary soldiers did. This made the new recruits all the less inclined to complain. To them, Chen Qingzhi was a commander—a figure of immense authority. Normally, such a high officer would be expected to enjoy the best food and lodgings, yet here he was, training with them, an almost inconceivable sight for the recruits.

Chen Qingzhi knew nothing of their thoughts. After spending some time training with the new recruits, he moved to another part of the grounds.

Here, three hundred soldiers were drilling under Tiger’s direction, laboring diligently. These three hundred were not practicing bayonet fighting or marksmanship; each wielded a broadsword, their movements powerful and fierce across the training field.

This unit was handpicked by Chen Qingzhi from three infantry battalions, chosen as promising candidates specifically for Tiger to train in broadsword techniques. Since learning that Tiger was a member of the Broadsword Squad, Chen Qingzhi had been considering forming such a team, with Tiger as their instructor.

The broadsword techniques were formidable, able to match the Japanese bayonet fighting without disadvantage—a rare advantage for the Nationalist forces, whose bayonet skills were often lacking. Chen Qingzhi’s plan was for Tiger to first teach these three hundred, who would then spread the techniques throughout the brigade, so that when the Independent Brigade faced the Japanese, even in hand-to-hand combat, they would not be at too great a disadvantage.

The broadsword squad’s method followed a set of maxims:
“Strike head-on with a powerful blow to break their formation; swing horizontally to cut at the waist. Sweep forward like autumn leaves in the wind, unstoppable as you mow down foes. Step and thrust with thunderous force, chain attacks slashing down at an angle. Defend swiftly to left and right, shift positions and strike with the blade.”

This meant gripping the broad blade with both hands, point down. As the enemy’s bayonet lunged in, the blade was lifted to parry or deflect, raising it above the head, then brought down in a chopping motion to cleave the enemy in two. The footwork enabled one to sweep aside the bayonet left or right, then thrust forward with both hands gripping the blade. The actions were concise and direct—heavy strikes, swift and fierce. It must be said, this method, adapted from classical swordsmanship into the breaker’s blade technique, had much to commend.

Observing quietly from the side, Chen Qingzhi could not help but nod in approval. Even by his discerning eye, the broadsword squad’s breaker technique was exceptionally effective—the ideal method for close combat against the Japanese. No wonder the Broadsword Squad of the 29th Army once struck terror into the enemy; the reason was clear.

As Chen Qingzhi watched with keen interest, Fang Xiaodong approached from afar, saluting and calling out, “Commander, commander! Good news—the live-fire training ground is ready!”

“That’s excellent!” At these words, Chen Qingzhi’s face lit up with a smile; he clapped his hands and laughed. “Come, let’s take a look!” he said, unable to contain his eagerness to see the training ground.

This facility was built according to the simulated environments Chen Qingzhi had seen in special forces training in his previous life, designed to rapidly forge combat effectiveness among the soldiers.

The two soon arrived at the live-fire training ground. Its surface was covered with sand, topped by sharp barbed wire, barely fifty centimeters above the ground—just enough for a person to crawl beneath. The training ground had only one entrance and one exit; at the exit, three Maxim heavy machine guns were mounted, belts of ammunition ready, their barrels gleaming coldly in the sunlight and aimed straight ahead.

Seeing this, Chen Qingzhi nodded in satisfaction. The live-fire training ground was just as he’d envisioned. “Very good. Gather the soldiers—let them experience it for themselves,” he said.

“Commander, are you sure? These soldiers are all new recruits—what if…” Fang Xiaodong hesitated.

Chen Qingzhi understood his concern: he feared the soldiers might be afraid, or worse, that someone might be injured. But…

Chen Qingzhi patted Fang Xiaodong’s shoulder and spoke gravely, “A soldier who hasn’t faced bullets and shells will forever remain a recruit—he’ll never grow. Remember, this is only a live-fire training ground, nothing like a real battlefield. At least on the battlefield, the enemy’s guns won’t aim above you, but right at you.”

“Do you understand?” Chen Qingzhi looked at Fang Xiaodong.

Facing Chen Qingzhi’s gaze, Fang Xiaodong was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath and said slowly, “Commander, you’re right. Without experiencing bullets and shells, one can never grasp the cruelty of war. I didn't understand before, but now I do. You’re doing this so the soldiers can quickly familiarize themselves with the realities of battle.”

“Good, as long as you understand. Go ahead,” Chen Qingzhi said with a smile.

Watching Fang Xiaodong walk off to gather the troops, Chen Qingzhi lit a cigarette for himself and stood quietly, lost in thought.

He had built this live-fire training ground partly so the recruits could quickly become accustomed to the battlefield, to get a taste of what it meant to be under fire. But the more important reason… was Chen Qingzhi’s own urgency.

The Battle of Xuzhou was about to begin, and time was running out. Chen Qingzhi needed his brigade to become combat-ready as soon as possible. He could only use such accelerated methods to force their growth.

Only with this, would Chen Qingzhi be able to face whatever might come, calmly and resolutely. Only then would he have the strength to spar with the enemy.