allendalepharm Chapter 1: Time Travel to Shanghai in 1937
Chapter 1: Time Travel to Shanghai in 1937
Han Zhenhua's fingers flew across the phone screen typing "King of Glory," Li Bai's figure flashing in and out of the arena seven times. Just as the system notification sounded "Victory!", the high-speed train pulled into Shanghai Hongqiao Station.
He stretched, stuffed his phone into his jeans pocket, picked up his backpack, and walked towards the car door.
"This is the legendary Shanghai!" He whistled at the surging crowd on the platform.
For his graduation trip after the college entrance examination, he didn't specifically choose this city, which his parents called "the largest city in the country".
It was because he was going to attend the "Physics Olympiad Class" here, where he had been studying since the first year of junior high school, and after 6 years of study, he finally qualified for the "National Competition"!
The August sun shone through the glass dome, and Han Zhenhua squinted as he pulled out his sunglasses.
Just then, he noticed a strange blue light flash at the end of the platform... It was definitely not a reflection of sunlight.
The light distorted and contracted in a way that defied the laws of physics, eventually condensing into a luminous sphere about two meters in diameter, which was silently gliding along the track.
"Holy crap... a ball lightning?" Han Zhenhua instinctively took out his phone to take a picture, but just as his fingertip touched the shutter button, the blue ball of light suddenly accelerated and rushed towards him.
He smelled the ozone permeating the air, and amidst the terrified screams of the surrounding passengers, a ball lightning bolt struck him squarely from the sky.
Amidst the intense tinnitus, Han Zhenhua felt as if he had been thrown into a washing machine and tumbled countless times in all directions. Strangely, he did not feel dizzy or nauseous, as if he were in a dream.
He didn't know how much time had passed when he curled up on the ground, his palms feeling sticky—not the smooth marble floor of the high-speed rail station, but some kind of damp soil. Explosions, like muffled thunder, echoed from afar, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder and blood.
"Newspapers for sale! Newspapers for sale! The Chinese and Japanese armies are once again engaged in a full-scale battle. The Japanese army has gained the upper hand, and the National Army is fighting a bloody battle!" The innocent voices of children rang in my ears.
Han Zhenhua struggled to his feet and saw a newsboy in patched clothes staring at him in terror. Behind the child, the exterior wall of a Western-style building was riddled with bullet holes, and a faded calendar showed: November 21, 1937.
"What the hell? Didn't I just arrive at the Shanghai high-speed rail station? How did I suddenly end up in the film set of that 'anti-Japanese war drama'? This film set must have a huge investment; even the architecture is so realistic!" Han Zhenhua was even more bewildered than before!
Suddenly, a deafening explosion rang out, and Han Zhenhua was thrown to the ground by the blast wave. A bright orange fireball rose from the center of the street thirty meters away, instantly turning several running pedestrians into shattered silhouettes. Even the newsboy in front of him was thrown seven or eight meters away, landing covered in blood and unrecognizable.
As the heatwave, carrying bits of flesh and rubble, slapped against his face, he finally realized this wasn't the set of some "anti-Japanese war drama"... The shell was real, the splattered blood was real, the newsboy killed was real, and so was Shanghai in 1937.
"Damn! I really time-traveled! I've traveled to Shanghai on November 21, 1937!" He wiped the blood from his face and found that he was still clutching his phone tightly in his hand. The screen was cracked in two places.
The photo of myself and my parents on the lock screen wallpaper now seems so distant. The signal bar shows "No Service," but strangely enough, after I was thrown into the air by the blast wave, the AI software that my finger accidentally touched actually opened, and it didn't show "Network not connected" at all!
Han Zhenhua stumbled and hid in a small alley, his back pressed against the damp brick wall.
With trembling hands, he opened the AI search box and typed "November 1937, Shanghai," and thousands of historical records flooded in like a waterfall.
When he saw the record that "The National Army was defeated in the fierce battle at Wusongkou, Shanghai... The Japanese 9th Division attacked Nanxiang... The Japanese 10th Army, commanded by Lieutenant General Nagashikawa Hisuke, will launch a three-pronged attack on November 25th towards Jinshanwei, Quangongting, and Caojingzhen on the north bank of Hangzhou Bay, with the intention of defeating the National Army's 62nd Division and cutting off the National Army's retreat route...", he suddenly heard the sound of leather shoes stepping through the puddles at the alley entrance.
"Sir, you look very young." The man in the gray long gown blocked the alley entrance. When he saw how young Han Zhenhua was and what an "odd-and-bumpy" outfit he was wearing, a look of vigilance and suspicion flashed in his eyes. His right hand was seemingly casually put in his pocket, but Han Zhenhua knew that there was definitely a gun hidden in there.
Although the man was thin, he was exceptionally upright with bright, piercing eyes and a mole at the corner of his left eye, which reminded him of a still from the TV series "Lurking".
Just as Han Zhenhua was thinking about what to say, another loud "boom" rang in his ears. A huge shockwave struck again, instantly sending him flying two meters away. The antique pocket watch that his grandmother had given him before she left also flew out of his inner pocket.
When the man in the gray shirt picked up the engraved bronze watch, his pupils suddenly contracted.
After the man helped Han Zhenhua up, he suddenly lowered his voice and said, "The autumn wind is rising..."
Han Zhenhua's mind went blank. He knew that line all too well; he heard it every summer when the TV station rebroadcast "Lurking." As if possessed, he replied, "...Autumn crabs are plump."
The man's expression immediately relaxed, and his right hand, which had been in his pocket, unconsciously came out. "Mr. Raven, the headquarters liaison station has been bombed, and Eagle has been killed. We can only activate single-line communication now. I am your new contact person, codename Bird's Nest!" He looked around warily.
"I..." Han Zhenhua opened his mouth, then suddenly realized that the antique pocket watch his grandmother had given him was the contact token, and the other party had mistaken him for a covert agent codenamed "Crow".
Before he could explain, the man had already stuffed a brown paper bag into his hand: "Inside is the address and key to the safe house, as well as your new ID and information in the French Concession."
Remember, if you need to report any intelligence, simply hang the following items on the clothes rack by the south-facing window on the second floor between 3 and 4 PM: trousers, towel, shirt, towel, trousers again, with the trousers on the sides and the shirt in the middle, separated by two towels. We will contact you. If you are in danger or have been exposed, hang up all three items: trousers, towel, and trousers. Repeat this process!
"If there is any intelligence to report, between 3 and 4 pm, hang the following items on the clothes rack by the south-facing window on the second floor in that order: pants, towel, shirt, towel, pants. Put two pairs of pants on the sides and the shirt in the middle, with two towels in between. If there is danger or you have already been exposed, hang up three items: pants, towel, and pants!" Han Zhenhua knew this matter could not be wrong and repeated it seriously!
"Very good, repeat it three more times!" the man said seriously.
Han Zhenhua knew that this was the necessary caution for intelligence work, and repeated it three times as required!
Just as the man finally breathed a sigh of relief and was about to say something more, Han Zhenhua suddenly remembered the information he had just found in the AI on his phone. He thought of the hardships of the fourteen-year War of Resistance against Japan, the bloody battles fought by millions of Nationalist soldiers, and the sacrifices of tens of millions of people. A strong sense of resentment and mission towards the Japanese arose spontaneously!
"Mr. Bird's Nest, I have important intelligence to report to headquarters!" He took a deep breath, his expression resolute, and continued, following the information he had retrieved from his phone's AI: "The Japanese army has deployed the 10th Army, commanded by Lieutenant General Nagashikawa Hisuke, and will use the cover of heavy fog on November 25th to launch a three-pronged attack on Jinshanwei, Quangongting, and Caojingzhen on the north shore of Hangzhou Bay, intending to defeat our 62nd Division and cut off our retreat!"
"What? Are you serious?.............................." The man was shocked and couldn't believe his ears!