Chapter Fifty-Seven: Feng Delin

In history, Russia did capture Feng Delin, but not by storming Gaojia Village. Tens of thousands of Russian troops besieged Gaojia Village for two or three months with no results, suffering heavy losses themselves.

They seized Feng Delin after the fighting ended, in the depths of winter. At that time, Feng Delin had repelled the Russian offensive, and his name resounded throughout western Liaoning. He grew careless; as soon as the battle was over, he thought of the woman he kept at the foot of the mountain and wanted to visit her. He took a dozen of his brothers with him. Unfortunately, the woman’s husband, enraged, went to the Russians and reported them.

Tens of thousands of troops failed to catch him, but a single Russian squad happened upon him by chance! Truly, even heroes yield before matters of the heart.

Now, the situation was much the same. Though the Russians had surrounded them, they could not take Gaojia Village. Inside, Feng Delin lived a life of ease and relaxation, hardly concerned at all. He believed that as soon as the snows fell, the Russian army would naturally withdraw.

He was able to hold Gaojia Village not only because the terrain around it was treacherous—making it a natural fortress navigable only by local hunters, easy to defend and hard to attack—but also because his bandit followers were willing to fight to the death. Most of these men were locals from western Liaoning with profound attachment to their homeland and bitter hatred for the Russians. Their willingness to stand and fight with Feng Delin showed their resolve for a fight to the death.

Moreover, after the defeat of the Qing army the previous year, Feng Delin acquired many firearms from them and even dismantled several cannons from the walls of Shengjing, installing them in the village.

Determination, advantageous terrain, and weaponry made the fight easier, but these were not the most important factors. The most crucial element was that within Gaojia Village, Feng Delin commanded an elite unit—about a thousand soldiers, well-equipped and courageous in battle. These men served as unit leaders, directing the bandits in combat.

When danger arose, they acted as the firefighting brigade, appearing wherever the Russians attacked most fiercely. Once they showed up, the Russian assault would inevitably be repelled.

These men were Japanese.

This time, the Japanese quietly and wholeheartedly supported Feng Delin in his fight against the Russians, providing not only troops but also supplies. Gaojia Village stood by the Liao River; while the Russians blockaded all land routes, the Japanese transported supplies into the village underwater, also passing along news from the outside.

Whenever the Russians made a move or prepared to attack, Feng Delin would learn of it at once.

This put the Russians in an impossible position, as they were attacking a well-provisioned fortress! The defenders were not weaklings either; bandits unafraid of death fought in organized form under Japanese command, and Feng Delin needed no one to rescue him.

According to Japanese calculations, without fifty or sixty thousand troops and four or five months of effort, the Russians could not possibly take Gaojia Village.

Say what you will about Feng Delin being a traitor—if he were, he would never have raised the banner of resistance against the Russians! At this time, the bandits of the northeast harbored deep hatred for the Russian army. The suffering and disaster brought by the Japanese paled in comparison to that inflicted by the Russians, so whoever helped them fight the Russians was a friend.

Later, the Japanese easily organized a “East Asia Suicide Squad” in the northeast, numbering a hundred thousand men, for this very reason. Feng Delin and Tang Yulin would both join this force in the future.

While Yang Xiaolin braved the blizzard, sweeping through the small mines according to the Russian military map, Feng Delin sat comfortably on his warm kang, sipping old wine, eating Japanese canned food, and stirring dog meat in a pot with his chopsticks, utterly at ease.

Despite the gunfire and explosions echoing outside, Feng Delin was unconcerned.

Suddenly the door was flung open, and a gust of cold wind swept in, carrying snowflakes. Feng Delin looked up. “Matsubara, come over quickly. The dog meat is almost ready. Let’s share a drink.”

Matsubara closed the door behind him and sat cross-legged on the kang, just like a Chinese man. He had come to China ten years earlier, ordered by the Japanese military to operate in the northeast. This time, the task of assisting Feng Delin had been entrusted to him, and so far, Matsubara had done exceptionally well.

“Chief, I don’t eat dog meat,” Matsubara said with a smile.

He didn’t stand on ceremony, picking up the bottle of baijiu from the table and taking a sip. “The liquor you Chinese heroes drink is truly invigorating. It burns fiercely on the way down, like a fire in the belly. Compared to it, our Japanese sake is far weaker.”

Feng Delin laughed heartily and poured him another cup. “I don’t really know much about liquor. Don’t be fooled by how often I drink; to me, they all taste the same. If you want to appreciate fine wine, talk to Old Lu the Seventh—he’s the real expert.”

Matsubara said, “Old Lu’s unit must withdraw for rest now. They’ve held Wuyaling for three days, and their casualties have exceeded one third.”

At this, Feng Delin’s expression changed. “That many?”

Matsubara, however, remained unperturbed. “It was expected. The Russians know their chances are slim, so these past days they’ve been desperate. As you Chinese say, ‘a cornered dog will leap over the wall.’”

Feng Delin nodded. “I’ll make sure to allocate more supplies to their brothers, let them rebuild their strength. By the way, Matsubara, now that it’s snowing, when do you think the Russians will withdraw?”

Matsubara didn’t answer, but instead asked, “Chief, what about the man who claimed to be from Rolling Hills a few days ago? What’s become of him?”

Feng Delin replied, “I’ve treated him well, with good food and drink. Matsubara, I can’t follow your advice on this—he really is Tang Dahu’s brother, not a spy. I’ve met him before.”

Matsubara nodded. “Let me share some good news, Chief. Recently, Yang the Ghost-Slayer attacked a Russian mine, killed all the Russians inside—several hundred—and wiped out six hundred Russian soldiers as well. On his way out, he even fought a skirmish with Russian forces and came out unscathed. So now I believe the messenger was telling the truth. Are you well acquainted with this Yang the Ghost-Slayer?”

Feng Delin was astonished. He had expected Tang Dahu to try to rescue him, but Yang the Ghost-Slayer was a stranger, and yet had offered such wholehearted help that Feng Delin was genuinely moved. “No, I’ve never met him.”

On the kang, Matsubara bowed to Feng Delin. “Please convey my apologies to that brother. In times like these, we must suspect everyone.”

Feng Delin chuckled. “Don’t worry, we men of the northeast aren’t so small-minded, and besides, I’ve treated him well these past days.”

Matsubara continued, “I’d like to ask you to write a letter. After the Russians withdraw, let him take it to Yang the Ghost-Slayer, expressing my admiration for his deeds, and apologizing for my earlier suspicion.”

Was Matsubara truly so humble? The Japanese always acted this way when it suited them—excessively polite, especially when they needed your help. Matsubara knew well that the Japanese military was already preparing for war with Russia; from his perspective, the war had already begun.