Chapter 2, this is fucking Jinling

Soon, Surui had a sturdy pair of leather shoes on his feet. What surprised Surui was that these shoes fit him remarkably well, as if they had been custom-made specifically for him.

The content of this flyer states: Command No. 36 from the Military Affairs Office: Our forces are currently occupying the Fukuo position as the final battle to defend Nanjing. All units must strive to hold their ground with the determination to live or die with the position, and must not abandon an inch of land or shake the morale of the entire army. Any unit that disobeys this order and retreats without authorization will be dealt with strictly according to the orders of the commanding officer, following the principle of collective responsibility. (2) All vessels obtained by the army must be handed over to the Transportation Command for safekeeping, and private retention is strictly prohibited. Major General Song Xilian of the 78th Army is appointed to be in charge of command. Troops are strictly forbidden from sending scattered soldiers to cross the river by boat without authorization; violators will be arrested and dealt with severely. Should there be any resistance, force will be used to suppress it.

At this moment, he was still holding a flyer printed on the coarsest straw paper, the content of which shattered the last shred of hope that remained in Su Rui's heart

The cold temporarily suppressed Su Rui's anger, allowing him to begin calming down. He walked slowly along the street filled with ruins, his hands covering his shivering body. The cold wind in the air continuously battered against him; although his body was very cold, an even deeper chill emanated from the depths of his heart

The signature on the flyer is: General Tang Shengzhi, Commander of the Nanjing Garrison.

Ah-choo! Su Rui couldn't help but let out a big sneeze

Cold... really damn cold! This is the only feeling that Surui has at this moment

Surui's complexion suddenly turned pale, and he suddenly thought of a possibility. Could it be that he had encountered a time-travel plot from a third-rate cliché novel? Had he returned to Nanjing over half a century ago? Surui was well aware that this place was an eternal pain in the hearts of future generations of Chinese people, a place that countless individuals gritted their teeth over. This place is called Nanjing, and the current time should be 1937.

A row of dilapidated houses stood worn by the wind, and a circular pit, several meters wide, occupied the very center of the street. As a cold breeze swept by, Su Rui, who had just regained consciousness, felt a chill penetrate into his body

Surui's angry voice did not elicit any response; the surroundings remained desolate. Another gust of cold wind swept through, further lowering the temperature of Surui, who was already filled with rage.

"No, if this continues, you will develop a fever." Su Rui immediately realized that catching a cold and developing a fever in this era of scarce medical resources often meant death

Surui struggled to get up, but he suddenly felt something was amiss. His hand touched a hard object, and when he looked up, he was nearly terrified. A corpse in a blue military uniform lay on the ground, its face soaked in blood, making it impossible to discern its features. Its eyes were rolled back, but there was no longer any focus in them.

When Su Rui spoke this sentence, he felt as if he was about to explode. At that moment, even if he were to be dull, he could sense that he had been struck by that lightning into the year 1937, into the most tragic battle in the history of China. He still cannot accept this outcome even now. Does heaven not find it enough to strike him dead, but also wants him to die a miserable death here once more

A shell exploded less than thirty meters away from Surui, and the flash of light from the explosion cast a particularly fierce expression on Surui's face

Boom

Suri habitually touched his body after changing, and took out a document from the left pocket of his jacket. He glanced at it out of habit; it was inconsequential not to look, but once he did, his hand holding the document began to tremble. The document clearly stated in traditional Chinese characters: "Deputy Director of the Logistics Department, 163rd Regiment, 36th Division, 78th Army of the National Revolutionary Army, Major rank, Name... Suri." On the left side of the document was a photo, and Suri was astonished to see that the person in the photo looked exactly like him.

The body bore no signs of injury, only the face had been shattered by shrapnel. It lay quietly by the roadside, the body contorted into a strange bow shape, presenting a truly tragic sight.

Surrey's complexion was extremely pale; this was the first corpse he had encountered in real life that had died from homicide, and the impact on him was undeniably significant

A sharp pain surged through his sensory nerves into his mind, and Su Rui felt as if someone were pressing a chisel against his skull and then striking it violently with a hammer. Such agony truly exceeded the limits of human endurance, and a deafening roar echoed in his ears

A cold wind blew by, causing goosebumps to rise on Su Rui's skin. "It's damn cold!"

November 21, 1937

Looking at the corpse lying on the ground, Su Rui gritted her teeth and reached out with trembling hands towards the dead body in front of her. Soon, the outer garment of this corpse was draped over Su Rui's shoulders

Huh, gunfire? How could there be gunfire here! Who is so reckless as to dare shoot on the street? Thanks to the strict management of firearms by the Celestial Empire in later generations, in real life, apart from military personnel, police, or armed police—those agents of state violence—the vast majority of the populace only understands firearms through television, images, and movies. Therefore, when Su Rui heard the distant gunshot, it was inevitable that it would trigger a strong sense of unease in her heart

Uncertain how much time had passed, Su Rui felt his mind gradually calming down. He let out a long breath and slowly opened his eyes. The information from the outside world instantly flooded his senses, but the scene before him left him once again in shock

Upon seeing these words, Su Rui felt as if she had fallen into an abyss. Future generations will know that schools in China have always been categorized into primary, secondary, and higher education levels. The only period when schools were classified as national primary and national secondary was during the Kuomintang's rule, which is also the only time the state used such terminology to name schools.

The pain is excruciating, piercing to the core

Bang!

Taking a deep breath, Su Rui slowly said to himself, "Relax, relax, it is the year 1937, this is... this is damn Nanjing!"

"Death... death corpse!" Su Rui, trembling in fear, sat on the ground, panting heavily as he stared blankly at the corpse on the ground

Damn it, cursed heavens, is it really necessary to send me to this godforsaken place just because I cursed you a few times?" Su Rui cursed in anger while unconsciously quickening his pace. Suddenly, it felt as if something had tripped him, and without paying attention, Su Rui stumbled and fell to the ground.

After putting on this military uniform, I felt much warmer all of a sudden. After moving around a bit, Su Rui still felt somewhat awkward. Upon closer inspection, I realized that I was still wearing slippers on my feet

Just as Su Rui was still in a state of confusion, a clear and crisp voice came from not far away

It is no wonder that just before, Su Rui was still in the summer of July, yet now it is already the winter solstice. Su Rui is still only wearing a shirt, so it is hardly surprising that it feels cold

Several times, Su Rui felt on the verge of collapse, yet it seemed as if some unseen force was protecting him. A series of faint warm currents continuously swirled in his mind; as these currents flowed through his consciousness, he experienced an inexplicable sense of comfort. Relying on this warmth, Su Rui managed to avoid completely losing consciousness, instead lingering in a state between dreams and wakefulness.

A crisp sound echoed along with the sound of books, and Su Rui looked over to find that her laptop bag had fallen to the ground

Pa Gou ! ''

Damn, I even changed my clothes, so I don't care about changing my shoes again

Confusion, bewilderment, anger, and a surge of hysterical rage welled up in Su Rui's heart, and he roared furiously at the sky, "Bastard, who can tell me what is going on, what is really happening!"

Surui slowly got up from the ground, his eyes reflecting a hint of confusion and bewilderment. Everything happening before him was in serious conflict with his memories, ultimately leading to two questions surfacing in his mind: Where is this? What on earth is going on?

Oh no, could it be that my computer is broken?" Su Rui quickly picked up the computer bag and slung it over his back. At that moment, he had no mood to open the bag and check on his precious belongings; he first needed to figure out what was going on.

At this moment, Su Rui felt an intense unease rising within him. He suddenly glanced around and sensed a chilling coldness slowly ascending from the depths of his heart. What a dilapidated city this is, with low, ramshackle tile-roofed houses and mud houses haphazardly standing on either side of the street. The street is a narrow dirt path, and it seems there are a few human-shaped figures lying by the roadside. However, these were not enough to astonish Su Rui. What truly shocked him was not far from where he stood, in front of a building made of crumbling brick and tile houses, there hung a weathered wooden board. What a dilapidated city this is, with low, ramshackle tile-roofed houses and mud houses haphazardly standing on either side of the street. The street is a narrow dirt path, and it seems there are a few human-shaped figures lying by the roadside. However, these were not enough to astonish Su Rui. What truly shocked him was not far from where he stood, in front of a building made of crumbling brick and tile houses, there hung a weathered wooden board, on which several black traditional Chinese characters were written with a brush: "Jinling City Seventh National Middle School"