Chapter 61: Twice-Cooked Pork

Our country and people are home to many intelligent individuals. Yet, regrettably, many so-called smart people tend to be "refined egoists," always prioritizing their own interests. On the battlefield against the Japanese invaders, those who truly fought and died were often seen by these clever ones as foolish, single-minded simpletons. It was precisely these "fools" who stood firm when the nation faced its darkest hour, holding up a sky that threatened to collapse. Thus, when the winds of history finally blow away the fog obscuring the truth, future generations will realize that the so-called clever people were but a joke, while these "fools" were the true backbone of the nation...

—Excerpt from Hu Biao’s diary collection, "Nonsense"—

By around 3:20 a.m., the fortifications on the position were nearly complete. Though some imperfections remained, Hu Biao and his comrades chose not to fuss over them. Their fallen brothers from the Third Company were buried together in a shallow grave on a clearing beside a temple. There were no coffins or tombstones, not even straw mats or sheets to wrap the bodies—just a hurried burial.

There was no other choice. The surviving brothers were utterly exhausted and lacked the means or energy to do more. They needed rest to regain strength before dawn, when the enemy’s brutal assault would come. The hard-won ground had to be held at all costs.

So the surviving men of the Third Company found spots to rest as best they could, quickly falling into a deep sleep. Honestly, Hu Biao and the others were equally weary, longing to find a place to doze off for a while. Though these modern-day travelers from another realm often joked about being mere laboring beasts, the work and dangers they faced here far surpassed anything in their original world.

Without fighting at the moment, their bodies felt numb and drained—limbs, back, head—seemed foreign to them, desperately craving rest. Yet, now as officers—majors, captains, lieutenants—entrusted with defending the position, each bore a heavy sense of responsibility. This weight compelled them to grit their teeth and persevere, no matter how tired.

Once everyone was asleep, seven of these travelers took turns patrolling the position or keeping vigilant watch, wary of any enemy sneak attacks. Fortunately, during the cleanup, they had captured a fair number of cigarettes from the enemy—mostly "Asahi" brand. Though harsh and irritating like old-fashioned tobacco, they served well to keep them alert.

Suddenly, while they had yet to complete their rounds, footsteps sounded from the rear of the position. Hu Biao jolted upright, grabbing his submachine gun and signaling Black Star and the others to prepare for combat. Technically, anyone approaching from behind should be friendly forces—but with the enemy’s infiltration skills, no one dared to be sure.

Thankfully, the newcomers were a full platoon of Nationalist soldiers carrying a large slab of pork, rice, and various seasonings. After a brief exchange, they learned that Hu Biao’s eldest brother, Director Sun, had managed to procure the requested pork and supplies late at night after receiving a telegram from Hu Biao via Da Chui. He had wasted no time delivering the goods.

Why dispatch an entire platoon for just a few people’s delivery? In these chaotic times, a slab of pork was a precious treasure; a small party could easily be waylaid en route. Director Sun, Hu Biao’s dependable older brother, had clearly put great care into this mission. Not only did he fulfill the request perfectly, but the platoon leader also conveyed a message: “Our own brothers fight bravely on the front lines; what’s wrong with wanting some meat? The cost will be deducted from future transactions. Don’t ever question that again, or you’re disrespecting your brother.”

Truly, Director Sun was a clever man—his handling and words were impeccable. Yet, in such a national crisis, how much better it would be if more smart people like him focused their efforts on fighting the enemy...

Perhaps wary that battle might erupt at any moment, making retreat impossible, the supply platoon quickly left after unloading. Hu Biao and his comrades paid them no mind; their attention was wholly captured by the pork.

Where Director Sun had found this pork was a mystery. It was a rare, fat pig in these times, with fat layers at least two fingers thick, if not three. Huang A Di, swallowing audibly, exclaimed, “What are we waiting for? Get the cooks up and start boiling rice and frying the meat!”

It was strange—only five or six days since their arrival in this world, yet Huang A Di, a man weighing over two hundred pounds, had never craved meat so desperately. Every cell in his body seemed to scream for nourishment and fat. Seeing the thick slab of raw pork, he longed to bite into it right then and there.

But before he could finish, Chao Zi grinned wryly and said, “We don’t even have a cook team in the Third Company anymore.”

Only then did Huang A Di realize—they truly had no cooks left. The four men who had formed the cook team were tough fellows, but when Hu Biao had ordered a full-company attack the day before, they had charged alongside the rest, rifles in hand. After capturing Dunwu Temple, three had died and one was seriously wounded and evacuated—effectively wiping out the cook team.

Fortunately, Hu Biao spoke up: “I can make a simple home-style twice-cooked pork—not as authentic as Sichuan cuisine, but it’ll do. Let’s cook it before dawn so the brothers can have it for breakfast.”

Though Hu Biao’s words seemed a bit scattered, the others understood clearly: if they didn’t seize the chance to eat this meat, many brothers might not live long enough to enjoy it during the coming day’s battle.

They all nodded in agreement.

Leaving AT and Da Chui on guard duty to prevent any enemy sneak attacks, Hu Biao, Black Star, Chao Zi, Huang A Di, and Bo Shu began cooking. The makeshift kitchen was set up in the temple behind the position. The wooden materials inside were of poor quality and had been overlooked during the fortification construction, but now they served a purpose.

Thus, amidst the turmoil of war, a moment of warmth and camaraderie blossomed in the shadow of the temple as these men prepared a humble meal to fortify their spirits for the trials ahead.