Chapter 42: Burn More Paper Money

Liang Wanyu and the others were gathered in a private online chat room, where Liang Wanyu was furiously venting about Zhang Liangqiang being a psycho.

“Class President, can you use your connections to find out if Haozi is dead or alive? We haven’t heard a single thing. There are no official KIA or MIA lists, and we can’t get in touch with him at all. You have a lot of pull—can you help us check?” Wang Yao typed in the chat.

“How am I supposed to check?” Liang Wanyu replied quickly. “He’s a junior officer. Junior officers aren’t tracked in real-time in the High Command’s main officer system. The only way to know the status of a Lieutenant or a Captain is to contact the 27th Corps directly.

But the 27th has been completely crippled. I heard the entire Corps has less than 3,000 men left who can still stand and fight, along with a few thousand wounded. Their KIA and MIA rate is over 80%. Who exactly am I supposed to call to ask about him?”

“Holy shit, the casualty rate is that high? Wang Yao, did you really dream about Hu Hao coming back covered in blood, saying he had no money to spend?” Dong Qipeng immediately asked.

“I swear! It was last night. That’s why I took leave first thing this morning to go buy joss paper. I bought paper money, paper mansions, paper cars, even paper beauties, and burned it all for him. Sigh… it’s messed me up so bad I haven’t been able to focus all day.

How could that bastard Zhang Liangqiang do this to him? Kicking him in the balls was too light a punishment. If it were me, I would have killed him!” Wang Yao vented.

“Dammit, I need to go buy some ghost money too. The four of us were brothers. I never thought Haozi would be sent straight into a meat grinder the second he graduated. Zhang Liangqiang is a piece of shit,” Mo Qin typed.

“I’ll go burn some for him too. Whatever else happened, he ended up in the 27th Corps because of me. Sigh,” Liang Wanyu added.

“Should we… call his family? I have his grandfather’s phone number. Should we ask them?” Wang Yao suggested.

“No! Absolutely not!” Mo Qin shot back instantly. “It’s better if the old man doesn’t know yet. Haozi ‘s grandpa is very old; don’t put him through that torture. If the official KIA list hasn’t been published, the death notification hasn’t been delivered either. Let them hold onto hope a little longer. Don’t call!”

“Agreed. Do not ask. We absolutely cannot ask. If his grandfather hears this from us and something happens to him, that sin is on our heads,” Dong Qipeng typed.

“Sigh… Haozi… don’t you guys think this is just incredibly unfair to him?” Another classmate who had entered the chat room earlier but remained silent finally chimed in.

Seeing the grim conversation about Hu Hao, several other classmates who had been close to him began posting crying emojis. They all promised to burn ghost money for him, terrified that their friend was wandering the afterlife penniless.

“By the way, I need to tell you all something. You need to mentally prepare yourselves,” Liang Wanyu suddenly typed.

“What is it?” “It’s not more bad news, is it?” “The Class President is telling us to ‘mentally prepare.’ Of course it’s bad news!” The chat lit up with nervous questions.

“The casualties among the frontline units have been catastrophic. Many units have lost over two-thirds of their strength. Once they retreat to a secure area, they are going to need massive reinforcements and restructuring.

Because of this, the military is facing a severe shortage of junior officers. The intel I received is that almost all military academy graduates nationwide this year are going to be drafted and reassigned to the Southwest and Southern Combat Zones!

If any of you have connections, you need to use them right now. This order is going to be issued very soon!” Liang Wanyu typed, the text glowing ominously on their screens.

“FUCK!” “You’re kidding?!” “We have to go south?” “Oh my god, we’re dead!”

Wang Yao and the others practically had a breakdown reading her message. Most of them had been assigned to units in the Northern Combat Zone, or at least to safe areas in the South, far from the fighting. Now, Liang Wanyu’s warning filled them with absolute dread.

“Start calling in favors. If you don’t have connections, you are absolutely getting sent to the grinder in the Southwest or the South!” Liang Wanyu reiterated.

“Class President, please help us! We know you have massive pull! You can’t just watch us get sent to our deaths! You know better than anyone how horrific the casualties are right now!” Dong Qipeng begged in the chat.

“Yeah, President, you have to help us! We’re just kids from ordinary families; we aren’t General’s kids like Zhang Liangqiang! What connections do we have?” the others pleaded frantically.

“I’m so sorry, but I really don’t have that much influence. I can only protect a few people. There are five girls in our class, including me. I can’t let them be sent into the meat grinder, so I used my pull to secure safe postings for them. As for the rest of you… I am truly sorry. I just can’t protect that many people,” Liang Wanyu typed, her message full of genuine regret.

“Holy shit, it’s over. Haozi … that bastard… here we are burning paper money for him. If we all get sent to the front and die, who the hell is going to burn paper money for us? We’re going to be broke ghosts!” Wang Yao typed in despair.

“No, I need to burn way more for Haozi! I’m going to write him a letter and burn it too, telling him to save his money. If we die in combat, we’re going to have to rely on him to fund us in the afterlife! I’m buying more right now!” Dong Qipeng declared.

“Good idea! Tell him to visit us in our dreams if he needs anything. I’m going to take my entire savings, buy ghost money, and burn it all for him!” Mo Qin typed.

“Just go find some connections! Anyone with real backing won’t be sent. Sigh… the Empire is falling apart, and they’re still prioritizing the connected elites. I don’t know what High Command is thinking!” Liang Wanyu typed bitterly.

“Is the intel absolutely accurate?” Wang Yao asked, holding onto a sliver of hope.

“I saw the draft proposal with my own eyes. Go find a way out, now!” Liang Wanyu replied sharply.

“We’re dead! What connections do we have? If I’d known this was going to happen, I would have just asked to be sent with Haozi. At least we could have watched each other’s backs,” Mo Qin typed.

While his classmates were busy mourning him and planning to fund his afterlife, Hu Hao was very much alive and incredibly busy. He spent the hours between 6:00 PM and 9:00 PM leading his demolition squad, methodically blowing up high-rises one after another. The collapsing buildings sent massive piles of concrete and steel crashing into the streets, completely barricading the avenues of approach to ensure the Allied armored units couldn’t break through.

By the time Hu Hao and his team returned to the defensive perimeter, it was well past 9:00 PM. The soldiers were dug into their positions. A few men on each squad stood watch, while the rest lay flat on the ground wherever they could find a relatively smooth spot.

Some soldiers huddled in light-shielded corners, turning on small flashlights to write letters. They had no idea if the letters would ever be mailed, but they wrote anyway, pouring their longing for their parents, friends, and lovers onto the paper. Many of the hardened veterans wept silently as they wrote.

“Hao-ge, you’re back!” Li Jingsong and the other officers greeted Hu Hao as he stepped down into the underground bunker.

“It’s this late and the enemy still hasn’t made a move. Looks like my guess was right,” Hu Hao said, taking a seat. A soldier immediately brought him a hot meal; everyone knew he had been working for hours without eating.

“Are they really not going to attack?” Li Tianyuan asked, looking at Hu Hao. The other officers stared at him with hopeful eyes.

“I don’t know for sure. I can’t guarantee anything. But it’s past 8:00 PM, and there’s no sign of an assault. That means one of two things: First, they truly have no intention of attacking us here, and they are waiting for us to leave the city before they strike.

Second, they somehow don’t know our main forces are retreating, so they aren’t in a rush to attack tonight. But the second option is highly unlikely. The rest of Langcheng has been emptied of troops; there’s no way Allied intelligence hasn’t noticed that,” Hu Hao explained between bites of food.

“So it has to be the first option,” a Regimental Commander concluded quickly.

“We won’t know until it happens. Maybe the Allied commanders have a different plan entirely. Everyone needs to stay alert. Who knows when they might decide to push?” Hu Hao smiled bitterly.

The officers nodded in agreement. After Hu Hao finished his meal, he chatted with them for a bit before finding a quiet corner to lie down.

Exhausted, he slept straight through the night, waking up just past 5:00 AM. The sky was beginning to lighten.

“They really didn’t come?” Hu Hao muttered, sitting up and looking out of the bunker. It was dead quiet outside—it didn’t feel like a war zone at all. He got up and began walking the line, checking the defensive positions. Most of the soldiers were still fast asleep.

It wasn’t until almost 6:00 AM, when the morning light grew brighter, that the men began to stir.

“Hao-ge, the enemy really didn’t show up last night. Looks like your analysis was dead on!” a Regimental Commander said, walking over to him.

“Mmh. Let’s see if they launch any probing attacks during the day. Hopefully they don’t. By the way, how is the retreat going? Any news?” Hu Hao asked.

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask the Corps Commander; intel like that doesn’t reach us down here. But listen—you can still hear the trains moving at the station. I’m guessing the withdrawal isn’t finished yet,” the Colonel replied. Hu Hao nodded in agreement.

“Hao-ge! You’re up! Hahaha, the Allies really didn’t attack!” Li Jingsong bounded over, beaming with relief. The surrounding soldiers laughed, their tension easing.

“Do you have any updates on the retreating units? How many are left in the city?” Hu Hao asked him.

“I don’t know. Let me go ask my old man!” Li Jingsong said, turning to head back to the bunker.

“There are at least fifty or sixty thousand men still waiting to pull out. However, they should all be cleared out by noon at the latest!” Li Tianyuan announced as he emerged from the bunker, having overheard Hu Hao’s question.