If at first, Zhou Ze was deliberately suppressing his instinct to break through the illusion,

Now,

He had truly forgotten.

The illusion created by Lawyer An, combined with the memories of this "regiment commander" military spirit on his body, began to merge and echo each other;

In short,

As time passed, the sense of immersion was becoming stronger and stronger, and Zhou Ze slowly began to lose track of who he really was.

It was like watching a movie,

With complete dedication.

Every move of the characters in the movie tugged at his heartstrings,

Sharing their joys and sorrows,

Equating to their happiness and grief,

Seeing what they saw,

Hearing what they heard.

This damned rain,

This damned rain!

Zhou Ze had never hated rainy days so much.

The mud on the ground, the damp cold on his body,

Every step he took required his utmost effort. One slip, and he would fall directly to the ground, making it even more difficult to stand up again.

This didn't feel like marching,

It felt more like enduring torture.

Zhou Ze had a messenger, who spoke with a Sichuan accent, and wasn't very old, probably only sixteen or seventeen.

Although Zhou Ze felt that this was a bit too young to be a soldier, he also wondered what else someone this age should be doing if not serving in the army.

He was often conflicted,

And felt that his thoughts were somewhat disordered.

Each instance of disorder brought with it unbearable pain, blurred vision, and buzzing in his ears.

The messenger said the regimental commander was sick,

And insisted on finding a medic.

But they had been in the mountains for five days already, and the formation of the unit had long been disrupted. Not only had they not seen any sign of a medic, but even if they did find one, in the current circumstances, there probably wouldn't be any medicine left anyway.

Too many people were getting sick.

Zhou Ze knew that his unit was among the last to enter the mountains. Other units had already passed before him, and he had seen far too many corpses lying on the ground along the way.

Malaria and other diseases were spreading rapidly through the ranks, like a human meat grinder, ruthlessly harvesting the lives of those who passed through.

He told the messenger not to go, in case he got lost.

But Little Sichuan insisted on going.

He left,

And then the flash flood came.

Zhou Ze sat beneath a large tree,

And watched helplessly as the flood swept through the slope below him,

Washing away many soldiers.

Among them,

Was Little Sichuan.

Zhou Ze's eyes widened, and he pounded the muddy ground in fury, splashing up streaks of filth.

He hated it,

He was resentful.

Even dying in battle,

Even dying in a desperate charge against the Japanese,

Wouldn't feel as stifling as this!

Soldiers had their awareness, and they had their preparations. Being wrapped in a horse hide wasn't a good end, but it was an end that everyone could accept.

But now,

Along the way,

He had seen wounded soldiers who, not wanting to burden the unit and unwilling to be taken prisoner, directly burned themselves with gasoline.

He had seen corpses lying on the road,

He had seen the young faces of those sitting by the roadside, wailing from illness and hunger,

And he had seen the thick silt left behind by the sudden flash flood.

Why was this happening?

Even if they were going to die,

Why did they have to die here!

Why!

Seemingly infected by the angry emotions, he threw himself completely into the experience, and the persistent headache actually began to weaken.

Zhou Ze climbed back to his feet, found a wooden stick, and continued walking.

His heart was filled with resentment and anger,

But as a soldier, he couldn't allow himself to just sit here and wait for death. Although he had seen many soldiers along the way commit suicide by shooting themselves due to mental breakdowns, he wouldn't do that.

His orders were to cross the Savage Mountain and return to the country.

So, he

Would walk back!

He stumbled onward, the road still treacherous, and the damned rain showed no sign of stopping.

As night fell,

Zhou Ze saw a shed ahead. The Savage Mountain range was known as the "Devil's Forbidden Land" by the local Burmese, so naturally there were no villages or houses. And because of the movement of the troops, tents and the like were rarely seen along the way.

He was utterly exhausted, and unbearably cold.

Zhou Ze shakily entered the tent,

And found several other soldiers already inside.

He didn't bother reporting his rank or status. At this point, rank and status were worthless. No one knew if they would make it out alive. To put on airs now would be idiotic.

Finding the last empty corner, Zhou Ze lay down.

He slept soundly,

No longer would the rain lash down on him. The dual exhaustion of body and spirit washed over him again and again, eventually being covered by sleep.

When he woke up,

Zhou Ze suddenly felt a sharp pain in his right leg.

He lifted his leg and saw that it had become swollen from being soaked.

Because he had been sleeping on the outer edge of the shed, one of his legs had slipped outside and into a puddle while he was asleep. He was too tired to notice.

"Hiss..."

Zhou Ze leaned on the wooden stick and struggled to stand up.

Looking back,

His body suddenly trembled.

Besides himself, there were four soldiers lying inside, but they were completely still.

In the darkness, he couldn't see clearly and had assumed they were asleep when he came in. Now he realized something was wrong.

Zhou Ze immediately bent down and turned over two of the soldiers on the ground, only to find that they were dead, and many insects were crawling beneath them.

"Ugh!"

A wave of nausea rose in his chest.

He wanted to vomit, but there was nothing to bring up.

They had been without food for a long time,

Eating tree bark had twisted his stomach. What could he possibly vomit?

He didn't have the strength to dig graves for them.

Too many people had died along the way. He couldn't dig them all.

Zhou Ze silently gave a military salute to his "roommates" from the night before,

Leaning on his wooden stick,

And walked out of the tent.

"Ahhh!!!"

He hadn't gone far when he saw two soldiers lying on the ground, clutching their stomachs and crying out in pain. Several mushrooms were scattered around them.

By the time Zhou Ze approached, these men could no longer cry out. White foam was constantly spilling from their mouths, and their faces were beginning to turn purple.

Beside them were, seemingly, companions of these two men, who were silently watching. Finally, unable to bear seeing their comrades suffer any longer, they picked up knives and stabbed them in the chest, giving them a swift release.

They didn't use guns because Japanese pursuit troops were likely nearby, and gunfire could expose them.

The faces of the two poisoned soldiers wore expressions of relief in death.

As if they had been liberated.

Yes,

Dead, they wouldn't feel hungry anymore. Dead, they wouldn't have to keep walking.

Here, death was the simplest thing, and even a beautiful thing.

Zhou Ze continued to walk forward, not knowing how much farther he had to go, just numbly taking one step after another.

This was purgatory.

And the soldiers traversing it

Were like dried bones walking through purgatory.

His shoes wore out and fell apart.

He continued to walk barefoot.

His feet were blistered, and at first it hurt a lot, but later they became numb.

Corpses,

Corpses,

Everywhere were corpses.

And swarming around the corpses were often groups of leeches and other insects. These terrifying little creatures of the tropical rainforest could slowly turn a living person into a skeleton in just a few hours, stripping them clean.

Zhou Ze saw three soldiers sitting by the roadside.

As Zhou Ze walked past,

They were looking at him.

One of them seemed to have noticed the difference in Zhou Ze's uniform,

And even saluted him.

Zhou Ze nodded, but didn't return the salute.

It wasn't that he didn't want to.

It was just that several leeches had bitten his left arm. He hadn't noticed at first, but when he stopped and slapped it, several of the engorged creatures, as thick as two finger joints, fell off.

His left arm was still numb, and his right hand was supporting himself with the wooden stick.

He was afraid that if he raised his hand to salute, he would fall down, and if he fell down, he wouldn't be able to get up again.

As he continued walking,

Three gunshots rang out behind him.

Soldiers who were also marching nearby turned to look,

The three soldiers had shot themselves.

Everyone began to subconsciously pick up their pace. Although they were still moving slowly, they were moving a little faster than before, because the survivors knew that the gunshots could attract the pursuing Japanese.

Actually,

At first,

The Japanese were really pursuing them,

Just as they had been chasing the British in Burma.

But the Savage Mountain was fair.

As time passed, and as everyone went deeper, fewer and fewer of the pursuing Japanese remained.

He didn't know how many days had passed,

Nor did he know how much farther he had continued to walk.

Human potential could be great,

But man's triumph over nature couldn't be taken seriously.

Zhou Ze knew he had a fever, and had probably contracted malaria.

He persevered for another day.

Finally,

He really couldn't walk anymore.

He leaned against a large tree,

And sat down.

He knew,

That once he sat down,

He would never be able to stand up again.

He looked up.

Now he was very calm.

He felt no fear of death,

And even craved for death to come quickly,

To end all his suffering.

Beside him, a soldier with a Hunan accent was hoarsely calling out to a soldier who wasn't moving at all:

"Get up... Get up... Don't fool me. We agreed to go home together, go home, go home..."

Go home...

Go home...

Images of Tongcheng began to flash through Zhou Ze's mind: the bookstore, South Street, the sofa. But soon, they turned into a rural scene of mountains and clear waters, familiar, yet also unfamiliar.

Which,

Was home?

"I can't do it anymore."

Zhou Ze was stunned for a moment, and asked in a hoarse, weak voice:

"Who are you?"

"I really can't do it anymore. I can't get out. Many, many people couldn't get out either."

"Who are you? Who is talking to me?"

"We're so cold, so cold..."

"My head hurts so much..." Zhou Ze was in great pain. His head hurt so much.

"We want to go home, go home..."

"Ahhh!!!"

Zhou Ze screamed.

"Please, take me, take us,

Take everyone,

Home."