Industry began in 1937

Chapter 18 Defending the Homeland

When Chen Yuan returned to Gouzi Village carrying the tightly wrapped steel pipe, the sun was already setting.

The area under the old locust tree at the village entrance was much livelier than usual, with several villagers surrounding a pale-faced, still-shaken young man, asking him a barrage of questions.

The young man, wearing an ill-fitting old cotton-padded jacket, was Han Shitou, the son of Old Man Han, who worked as a helper at a restaurant in the county town.

Old Han clung tightly to his son, his rough hand gripping his arm as if afraid that if he let go, his son would disappear. His face was a mixture of ecstatic joy at having his son back and lingering fear.

"Stone, did you really see the Japanese? What did they look like?"

"The county town...is it really gone?"

"How did you get out? Are you hurt?"

Han Shitou was clearly still shaken, his voice trembling and incoherent: "I...I saw it...wearing iron hats, bayonets on their guns, stabbing people indiscriminately...so many houses in the city were burned down, black smoke filled half the sky...Mr. Wen and I, along with a few others, crawled out through the water tunnels in the city wall..."

"Mr. Wen?" Someone noticed the person he was referring to.

At this moment, Chen Yuan noticed a middle-aged man standing on the side of the crowd. He was about forty years old, wearing a worn but clean blue cloth long gown, with a patched black cotton jacket over it, and a pair of old glasses with cotton thread wrapped around the bridge of his nose.

His face was thin and weary from the long journey, but his back was straight, and his eyes were gentle yet calm as he listened quietly to the questions from the crowd, a stark contrast to the bewildered villagers around him.

"This is Mr. Wen, Wen Shizhou, a teacher at the county primary school," Old Han quickly introduced, his tone filled with gratitude and respect.

"Thanks to Mr. Wen, he led Shitou and several students to escape the Japanese invaders and guided them all the way back to the mountains. He is a great benefactor to Shitou and our family."

Wen Shizhou cupped his hands in a humble manner: "Brother Han, you flatter me. In times of national crisis, it is only right for compatriots to help each other. I am but a humble schoolteacher. With the city in ruins and the school in disrepair, I have nowhere to go but to seek refuge in the mountains with my fellow villagers. I apologize for my presumptuous visit to your esteemed place and ask for your understanding."

His speech was clear and appropriate, with the elegance unique to scholars, yet without any pedantry, which immediately won the favor of the villagers.

Third Uncle stroked his beard and nodded: "Mr. Wen is a man of great learning. It's a blessing for our village to come to this remote mountain village. It's just that the world these days... sigh!"

"Yes, the world is truly changing." Wen Shizhou continued, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching everyone's ears.

He looked around at everyone, his expression turning serious. "Fellow villagers, what Brother Stone just said is absolutely true. The Japanese devils—that is, the Japanese soldiers—are different from the foreigners of the warlord era or the foreigners of decades ago."

They didn't come here to rob some money, occupy some land, and leave.

They want to destroy our country and exterminate our people! They've occupied our cities, committed murder, arson, rape, plunder, and all sorts of atrocities. Their ambition is for the whole of China!

The crowd was completely silent, with only the whistling of the mountain wind blowing through the treetops.

Wen Shizhou's words were like a cold awl, piercing the wishful thinking in the hearts of some villagers that "the Japanese might not be able to take care of the mountains."

"Then, what do we do? Are we just going to wait to die in the mountains?" a young man couldn't help but ask, his voice filled with fear.

"Waiting will only lead to certain death." Wen Shizhou's tone was resolute, but then he changed his tone and added an encouraging element.

"We can't wait! We have hands and feet, and we know every ravine and gully of the Taihang Mountains! The Japanese have guns and cannons, but we have our own methods! We'll organize the villagers, have them stand guard, control the dangerous crossroads, and hide the elderly, women, and children. They don't have three heads and six arms; once they enter the mountains, they're deaf and blind! We know the terrain well; we can ambush them, we can harass them, and keep them from having a peaceful time! This is called armed self-defense, protecting our homeland! We won't cause trouble, but we're absolutely not afraid of trouble, and we will never let ourselves be slaughtered!"

"Organize?" "Arm yourself for self-defense?" These words were somewhat unfamiliar to the villagers, but their meaning was straightforward and easy to understand.

The phrase "defend our homeland" in particular instantly ignited the fighting spirit in the hearts of many young men present.

Who would willingly watch their home be destroyed and their loved ones slaughtered?

"Mr. Wen is right!" Zhao Dachui was the first to respond, clenching his fists.

"The men of our Gouzi Village, young and old, are not cowards! Sharpen your weapons, guard the crossroads, and if the Japanese dare to come, we'll knock their teeth out!"

"Yes! We know the mountain paths well, let's dig some traps and set some logs and rocks!"

"We need to spread the news quickly. If anything seems amiss on any of the hilltops, we need to let the village know immediately."

As the crowd began to discuss the matter, their fear seemed to be somewhat suppressed by a sense of shared indignation.

Chen Yuan listened quietly, his heart filled with turmoil.

This Mr. Wen is far more than just a "primary school teacher".

His words were clear and logical, with a specific goal in mind, directly addressing the current ethnic conflicts, and providing seemingly simple but actually highly practical action plans.

In particular, the concepts of "armed self-defense" and "defending the homeland" accurately captured the most fundamental needs of farmers in chaotic times—protecting their land and loved ones.

This is not a spur-of-the-moment consolation, but a well-thought-out and clearly targeted campaign of propaganda and mobilization.

What caught Chen Yuan's attention even more was Wen Shizhou's demeanor and eyes when he spoke.

His tone was earnest and persuasive, but there was a hint of observation and assessment in his eyes. He was paying attention to the reactions of each villager, especially the charismatic young men like Zhao Dachui, as well as the village elders like Third Uncle and Old Man Han.

This is more like someone with a mission who is gathering information and mobilizing the masses.

Chen Yuan was almost certain that this Mr. Wen Shizhou was likely a comrade, an underground worker who went deep into the countryside to carry out work after the Japanese occupied the county town and the organization was scattered.

He brought not only news of the county's fall, but also a spark of resistance.

Such observations and reflections are largely thanks to later films and television series, as well as the fact that Chen Yuan grew up under the Party's education for many years.

Just by smelling it, I knew it was right.

At this moment, Wen Shizhou's gaze seemed to casually sweep over Chen Yuan on the periphery of the crowd, lingering for a very brief moment on the long, cloth-wrapped object on Chen Yuan's back, before naturally shifting away and continuing to talk with the villagers.

But Chen Yuan keenly caught that glance; besides curiosity, there seemed to be a hint of inquiry in that gaze.

Chen Yuan didn't go up to speak; he had more pressing matters to attend to.

He quietly pulled aside Old Man Han, who had calmed down a bit, and whispered, "Old Man Han, it's great news that Brother Shitou is back safe and sound. I've gotten a good iron pipe and I'm thinking of making a firearm for self-defense, but I don't know much about it. I'd like to see Old Man Zhao's old gun and learn from it."

Old Han had a good impression of Chen Yuan at this moment, and nodded, saying, "Alright, that old thing is hanging on the wall of Old Zhao's house. I'll take you to find him. But young Chen, you heard what Mr. Wen said earlier. In this world... you need some self-defense tools. You know how to handle ironware; if you can actually make something useful, that would be a good thing."

The two left the crowd and went to find Zhao Laoshuan.

On the way, Old Han sighed and said in a low voice, "Young Chen, to be honest, after hearing what Shi Tou and Mr. Wen said, my heart... feels like it's being fried in oil. Those Japanese devils are really bastards! Mr. Wen is right, we can't just sit here and wait. You're a capable man, if... if you can really help our village get some sturdy and useful equipment, I'll thank you on behalf of the whole village."

Chen Yuan said solemnly, "Uncle Han, don't worry, I've eaten from the same pot in this village too. I'll definitely do what I can to help."

At Zhao Laoshuan's house, Chen Yuan carefully observed the old matchlock gun, inquired about the entire process of loading powder, filling bullets, aiming, and firing, and had a clearer blueprint in his mind for making a more reliable flintlock gun.

Since mercury fulminate is unavailable, firearms with fixed cartridge cases cannot be manufactured directly, so this method is the only option.

Chen Yuan only knew this much; a dedicated weapons enthusiast might be able to think of other methods.

Even so, he felt it was acceptable.

He politely declined Old Han's invitation to stay for a meal and left in a hurry.

As we left the village, dusk had already fallen.

Chen Yuan looked back and saw that the village lights seemed to be on earlier than usual, and there was a tense and restless atmosphere in the air.

Wen Shizhou's arrival was like a stone thrown into a calm pond, and the ripples it created were spreading.

He knew that, starting tonight, things would begin to change in Gouzi Village, and even in this entire mountainous region.

He carried the heavy steel pipe on his back and strode quickly toward his ravine.

The sense of urgency I already felt became more concrete because of Wen Shizhou's appearance and those words.

Time is even less.

The enemy is getting closer.

Besides the "flint" that cannot directly manufacture guns, there seems to be something else that can be relied upon, weak yet firm—the flame of defiance awakened in people's hearts.

He has to be faster.

They built muskets, explored the mines, accumulated electricity, and moved the platform.

Then... perhaps we can see what role we can play in this gathering force of "self-defense," and what kind of weight we can add to this force with "flint."

A biting mountain wind blows as the first stars begin to appear.

Chen Yuan's footsteps were firm on the rugged mountain path.

The road ahead was uncertain, but the flame of hope that had been lit in the village behind him seemed to cast a faint but warm light on his journey through the darkness.