The comfort stations were the ultimate nightmare for any woman. Living in such a place was worse than death; dying might even be considered a release.

Yang Shaofeng trembled uncontrollably, his eyes filled with murderous rage. If Cuitui had truly been taken to such a place, the despair she must feel was unimaginable. He didn’t dare think further.

His hatred for the enemy soared to the heavens. He wanted to drink their blood, eat their flesh, strip their skin, and kill them in the most excruciating ways possible.

“Bury the bodies properly and clean up the scene thoroughly,” Yang Shaofeng ordered, forcing himself to suppress his fury.

“Yes, sir.” The soldiers retrieved tools from the vehicle and quickly dug a pit.

Yang Shaofeng silently picked up Tian Tian’s scattered clothes, carefully folding each piece. He also gathered the bloodstained miniature telegraph device, storing it as if it were a priceless relic.

The men worked swiftly, cleaning the site until no trace of the tragic event remained. Together, they stood at the edge of the burial pit and saluted three times. Only then did they return to the car and drive away.

On the road, the soldiers were unnerved by their commander’s terrifying silence, like the stillness before a violent storm. One tried to comfort him, “Boss, don’t be too upset. Maybe the sister-in-law managed to escape somehow.”

The possibility was almost nonexistent, but the soldier hoped to offer Yang Shaofeng a glimmer of hope, fearing that the grief would shatter him.

Yang Shaofeng didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed on the window, and his mind replayed the image of Tian Tian’s radiant smile.

That very morning, she had bid him farewell with tears and reluctance. Now, she was missing, possibly enduring inhuman suffering. The thought made his heart ache as if it were being torn apart.

Upon returning to the base, Yang Shaofeng jumped out of the vehicle and rushed toward Zhou Biao’s office without even pausing to drop off Tian Tian’s belongings.

Zhou Biao, now promoted to division commander, was comfortably sipping tea in his luxuriously furnished office.

Seeing Yang Shaofeng enter, he quickly set his teacup down and stood to greet him. “Shaofeng, how’s Comrade Xu?”

Clutching Tian Tian’s belongings tightly, his eyes bloodshot with sorrow, Yang Shaofeng saluted sharply. “Reporting to Commander Zhou, Comrade Xu Cuitui is presumed dead.”

He briefly described the scene they found.

Zhou Biao sighed heavily. “Such a pity for a promising comrade. From what you’ve described, it’s highly likely she was sent to a comfort station. What a loss for such a vibrant young girl. If she’s still alive, she must be enduring unimaginable torment. Shaofeng, you must stay strong. On the battlefield, kill more enemies and avenge her!”

Yang Shaofeng didn’t address the sentiment directly. Instead, he asked firmly, “Commander Zhou, does your earlier proposal still stand?”

Zhou Biao instantly understood. Yang Shaofeng was referring to his previous offer to appoint him as commander of the Flying Tiger Regiment.

Straightening up, Zhou Biao replied decisively, “Of course. If you’re willing to take the post, I can issue your appointment letter right now.”

Yang Shaofeng saluted again, his voice resolute. “Commander, please issue the appointment.”

Zhou Biao nodded, visibly pleased. Yang Shaofeng was his trump card, and under his leadership, the Flying Tiger Regiment would undoubtedly become the backbone of his division.

He retrieved the already-prepared appointment letter from his desk drawer and handed it over. “You are now the commander of the Flying Tiger Regiment.”

Yang Shaofeng accepted it with another salute. “Thank you, Commander.” He turned and moved to leave.

Zhou Biao, noticing his urgency, sensed something amiss. “Wait a moment!”

Yang Shaofeng stopped and turned back.

Zhou Biao eyed him meaningfully. “You’re not planning to use the Flying Tiger Regiment to avenge Comrade Xu, are you?” Previously, Yang Shaofeng had refused this position, feeling it dishonorable to ascend over the bodies of fallen comrades.

Yang Shaofeng didn’t hide his intent. “Commander, I need to find her.”

Zhou Biao’s face darkened. “Yang Shaofeng, don’t act recklessly! I understand your grief over Comrade Xu, but you cannot endanger your comrades’ lives for this. You don’t even know where she is—how will you search for her?”

Yang Shaofeng declared with unshakable determination, “I’ll destroy every comfort station.”

“Do you realize how many men will die in such a mission?”

“Every battle comes with casualties,” Yang Shaofeng replied calmly. “Eliminating the comfort stations is not just personal vengeance—it’s a service to the nation and its people. I’m not toying with my comrades’ lives.”

Zhou Biao, furious, retorted, “Even if you find her, what then? She won’t be the same Xu Cuitui you knew. I’ve seen women rescued from comfort stations—crippled, broken, infertile… Do you really want to face that reality?”

Yang Shaofeng’s fists clenched tightly, his body trembling violently as he thought of Tian Tian’s potential suffering. His bloodshot eyes and bulging veins betrayed his inner torment.

“No matter what, she is my fiancée. I will find her.” With that, he saluted and walked out, carrying Tian Tian’s belongings.

Zhou Biao, seething, was left helpless. He resolved to deny any request for a mission targeting the comfort stations.

Meanwhile, Tian Tian had stayed in the city for two days, observing. The lack of news left her uneasy. Surely Yang Shaofeng knew by now?

Unable to confirm, she decided to visit the site. Disguised, she walked to the location.

The area was now completely cleared, devoid of any evidence of the massacre.

Tian Tian was certain Yang Shaofeng had been there. Only he would have cleaned the site so thoroughly. If the enemy had done it, the deaths of their soldiers would have caused a massive uproar and citywide lockdown, which hadn’t happened.

Thinking of Yang Shaofeng, her heart ached. As much as it hurt, she had to let go.

She had done all she could. The rest was up to time. If Yang Shaofeng truly cared for her, he wouldn’t turn traitor. If so, her mission was complete.

Feeling lost, Tian Tian pondered her next steps. The world was in chaos, and it was dangerous for a woman to travel alone.

Eventually, she decided to pursue medical studies.

With the silver dollars she had saved, thanks to Yang Shaofeng’s support, she could live comfortably for years. The work she had done with the medical unit had given her purpose, and she aspired to become a doctor.

The same day, she purchased a train ticket to a territory controlled by the New Path Army, known for being safer and more peaceful.

Yang Shaofeng, now commander of the Flying Tiger Regiment, immediately convened a meeting with his political officers and battalion leaders to outline an attack plan.

His objective was simple: obliterate enemy strongholds, destroy the comfort stations, and rescue the women suffering there.

Within two days, he had crafted a meticulous plan and submitted it to Zhou Biao for approval.

Despite his earlier intentions to block it, Zhou Biao was impressed by the plan’s brilliance and high probability of success. His ambition for victory won out, and he approved the operation.

That night, Yang Shaofeng led 5,000 troops on a surprise assault against the enemy stronghold.

With precise execution, they seized the fortress within five hours.

Rushing into the comfort station, Yang Shaofeng was greeted by a harrowing sight: a truck piled high with naked female corpses, stacked like a grotesque mountain.

The women’s bodies were riddled with injuries, their faces frozen in agony. Most were heartbreakingly young, the oldest no more than thirty. Even in death, their eyes remained wide open.

The soldiers accompanying him were equally devastated, their eyes red with fury and grief.

A captured traitor explained, “These bodies are loaded onto trucks every day and buried in mass graves. Women here don’t last long.”

Yang Shaofeng’s hands shook as he gripped his weapon. He couldn’t stop imagining what Tian Tian might have endured.

Suddenly, a soldier called out, “Sir! There’s someone alive on the truck!”

Yang Shaofeng’s eyes darted to the vehicle, where a frail young girl, barely seventeen or eighteen, was breathing faintly among the corpses.

“Save her!” he roared.

Two soldiers immediately climbed up, carefully carrying her down and covering her with their clothes to preserve her dignity.

The traitor, desperate to survive and eager to redeem himself, quickly added, “I recognize this woman. She was brought in two months ago. Because of her delicate looks, many of the soldiers favored her. Over time, she contracted a disease from serving too many men. The soldiers discarded her into the armored truck as if she were a corpse.”

Yang Shaofeng and his subordinates felt a chilling sensation run through their hearts. What horrors were there that the enemy had not committed?

“Take her to the medical unit immediately. Do everything to save her!” Yang Shaofeng barked, his voice nearly a roar.

“Yes, sir!” The barely alive girl was carefully carried out.

“Check every body in that armored truck,” Yang Shaofeng ordered. “If anyone is still breathing, treat them immediately!”

“Yes, sir!”

Shaofeng led his men into the comfort station. The noise of their arrival caused the women inside to scream hysterically. Many of them were too exhausted to move, having been repeatedly assaulted by the enemy. Some lay on the floor, naked and trembling.

“Get dressed,” Shaofeng commanded, his voice steady despite the sorrow welling in his chest. “We’re here to get you out.”

The women’s eyes filled with hope and disbelief. Using the last scraps of their strength, they gathered themselves and clumsily put on whatever clothing they could find.

One by one, the women stumbled out. Shaofeng scanned their faces desperately but, to his heartbreak, among the hundreds, not one was the woman he was searching for.

He quickly asked them if they had seen anyone matching Tian Tian’s description. He even described her features in detail.

All shook their heads.

“I haven’t seen anyone like that,” one woman said, her voice trembling.

The traitor chimed in, “If such a beautiful girl had been brought here, I’d definitely remember. I don’t recall seeing her, which means she was never here.”

Shaofeng’s chest tightened in despair. He ordered his men to collect the enemy’s weapons and valuables before returning to camp.

Once back, Shaofeng began planning the assault on the next enemy outpost. The captured traitor, well-acquainted with the locations of other comfort stations, became an invaluable resource.

High Commissioner Gao entered Shaofeng’s quarters one evening. “Shaofeng, what do we do with the hundreds of women we’ve rescued?”

Shaofeng frowned. “Send them back to where they came from.”

Gao sighed. “Many of them have nowhere to return to. Some had their entire families slaughtered before being dragged to the comfort stations. Others were kidnapped on their way to buy supplies. Most have suffered such severe abuse that they can no longer have children. Even if they return, their communities won’t accept them. What do you suggest we do?”

Shaofeng thought for a moment. “Ask them if they’d like to stay and assist the medical unit. Those who agree can remain. For those who don’t, help them based on their preferences.”

“Understood.” Gao left to handle the arrangements.

Over the next two months, Shaofeng led successful assaults on three or four additional enemy strongholds, liberating countless women. But no matter how many he freed, he never found Tian Tian.

Despair consumed him. Shaofeng shut himself in his quarters, refusing to see anyone.

Gao, his longtime comrade, brought over a bottle of liquor to comfort him. “Brother, you need to move on. It’s highly likely that Comrade Xu is no longer with us. The best way to honor her memory is to keep fighting and take revenge on the enemy.”

Shaofeng didn’t respond. He snatched the bottle, tore off the cap, and began drinking straight from it, the bitter liquid doing little to numb the ache in his heart.

Shaofeng’s relentless victories against the enemy brought widespread fame to the Flying Tiger Regiment. Recruitment numbers soared, and the regiment grew from 5,000 to over 7,000 soldiers, expanding by nearly a third.

Meanwhile, Zhou Biao basked in the accolades from superiors, his ego inflating with each commendation.

Enraged by their mounting losses, the enemy regrouped with reinforcements and launched a large-scale counterattack.

The resulting battle was immense, involving the entire 81st Army. Even the Army Commander personally directed the campaign.

The enemy’s determination and resources exceeded expectations, making the battle extraordinarily grueling. Zhou Biao, other divisional commanders, and the regiment leaders, including Shaofeng, gathered to plan their strategy.

Within the larger structure of the 81st Army, Shaofeng’s opinions carried little weight. Despite his recent victories, no one took him seriously.

During the strategy meeting, the Army Commander laid out a plan. The division leaders smiled and nodded in agreement, and the regiment leaders echoed their support.

Shaofeng frowned as he observed the sycophantic atmosphere. Unable to stay silent, he spoke up, “Commander, I believe we’re underestimating the enemy’s strength. They’ve come prepared, led by a tactician known for his cunning. We should approach this with caution.”

Zhou Biao immediately reprimanded him, “Shaofeng, silence! The commander has decades of experience leading troops. Don’t let a few victories inflate your ego.”

The other division commanders chimed in.

“The Commander’s strategy is flawless.”

“Perfectly planned. We’ll fully support it.”

Shaofeng clenched his fists in frustration. Despite the evident flaws in the plan, no one seemed to care. The meeting wasn’t about strategy—it was about flattery.

Unable to endure the hypocrisy, Shaofeng stormed out.

The much-anticipated Battle of Songnan Bridge unfolded as Shaofeng had predicted. The enemy, led by their brilliant tactician, overwhelmed the 81st Army. Zhou Biao’s division was almost entirely wiped out, and Shaofeng’s Flying Tiger Regiment suffered total annihilation, with all 7,000 soldiers killed in action.

Shaofeng, his heart shattered, retreated with Zhou Biao to Mang Mountain, only to be captured by the enemy.

Brought to the enemy base, the two men were separated and detained.

Sitting in his cell, Shaofeng closed his eyes, ready to meet his end.

The door creaked open, and a tall, imposing man entered.

“Commander Yang,” the man said in fluent Mandarin, “It’s an honor to finally meet the legendary Flying Tiger leader. My name is Yamada. I’ve heard much about you.”

Shaofeng studied him silently. This must be the tactician who had orchestrated their devastating defeat.

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