070 A Soldier Must Possess Valor
Night gradually fell over all of North Africa, and aside from the sea breeze drifting in from the Mediterranean, there was no sign of life. The campfire painted Li Changjiang’s face a deep crimson as he brazenly went shirtless, gasping for air like a ploughing ox.
201!
202!
203!—
Damn, I can’t go on!
He muttered to himself, and hadn’t even reached 205 before his body collapsed with a thud, panting heavily. Push-ups were pure exertion—moreover, they tested one’s willpower to the extreme.
Li Changjiang had never imagined he could do more than two hundred push-ups in a single go. Once, that would have been unthinkable. But in this moment, apart from the burning ache in his arms, his entire body felt invigorated and alive.
It felt amazing.
A true warrior dares to face the campfire, dares to bare his chest and do two hundred push-ups.
He buried the fire under sand, then lay down beside it and slept until dawn. When he opened his eyes again, the sun was already bright and dazzling. Rising, he surveyed his surroundings. The spot he’d chosen was a patch of sand, well hidden and untouched by others.
A few miles away, in the direction of Labraca, columns of smoke were still visible—evidence the blaze had raged all day and night.
Li Changjiang had played his part in that inferno. Confronted with a field of corpses, the only thing he could do was set them alight, hoping that in the ashes, Libyans of future peaceful generations would remember this place.
The wounds of war might linger for years, or vanish in the currents of history.
But this was not Li Changjiang’s war.
So, though oppressed by the weight of it all, he had little time for sentiment.
He had guessed right.
The Americans had suffered a disaster—utterly and completely.
With Libya again plunged into chaos, the world’s attention swung back to this land ravaged by war.
Khamis had returned to Tripoli to command the government forces.
Gaddafi called on Libyans to rise and resist the Western powers to the end.
The American president gave another State of the Union address, declaring that Libya was now a grave threat to world peace and freedom.
The French government issued a statement promising another round of airstrikes on Libya soon.
And in the far north, the polar bear of Russia could not remain silent.
At a recent press conference, the Russian strongman reiterated his stance on Libya, condemning the Western coalition led by the US, Britain, and France for launching unauthorized attacks—a grave breach of peace and a provocation against humanity.
The Chinese government, for its part, maintained its customary restraint, issuing no statement about the recent upheaval in Libya.
Yet—
Just as the Western nations clamored to deal a heavy blow to Libya and Gaddafi himself, a video uploaded by an unknown user sent shockwaves through the world’s media, reverberating across the globe.
In this spectacle, the United States played the most disgraceful role.
Shit!
“Damn it! How could this happen? Michael, when did this come out?”
“Mr. President, it began circulating online this morning. The CIA is investigating its origin.”
Fuck!
The White House.
The moment the American president saw the footage, he realized the gravity of the crisis.
On the screen, over a dozen American soldiers were shown kneeling on the ground, their hands bound behind their backs. Even more chilling, more than twenty American corpses hung in the background.
The video was silent throughout, save for the gunshots. Yet the sight of bullets piercing skulls and blood spraying was enough to chill the soul.
At the end, a single line appeared:
“Americans, Libya does not welcome you!”
It was a threat. A warning.
As the US government hastily convened emergency meetings to address the crisis—
Within America, the video spread rapidly across the internet, sparking nationwide uproar.
Identities of the soldiers in the footage were quickly recognized.
Fathers.
Wives.
Brothers.
“Gentlemen of America! Please, save my son!”
A renowned newspaper carried the words of a soldier’s mother on its front page, making it the headline story picked up by media outlets across the country.
“Damn Libyans!”
“This is intimidation! Massacre!”
As demonstrations and protests erupted nationwide, the US government issued an official statement, strongly condemning the Libyan massacre and calling on the world to launch further military action against Libya.
Click. The satellite TV was switched off. The conference room fell into dead silence.
Too bloody.
“Let’s hear it—this time, the Americans are sure to use force; otherwise, how could they answer to their people?”
“Answer? What answer? This is war. The Americans are allowed to barge into someone else’s home, but others can’t do anything to them?”
“What kind of logic is that? Ridiculous!”
“Old Xiang, be careful what you say!”
“Where are Guan Hu and his team now? Has the mission target’s location been confirmed?”
The speaker was an elderly man, robust in stature and sharp of mind.
“It’s confirmed. The target is in Misurata. Here, take a look. Misurata is Libya’s third largest city, facing the Mediterranean to the north, with only a single southern entry point. If Guan Hu’s team wants to infiltrate, they must pass through here—Labraca.
But according to the message sent by Guan Hu last night, the Libyan government forces carried out a massacre here—nearly a thousand people in Labraca slaughtered, sheer carnage.
This incident indirectly confirms the authenticity of the video showing the murdered Americans. However, Guan Hu now suspects it wasn’t the government forces, but rather the rebels.”
Hu Dayou gave a summary of the situation, and the others nodded in agreement.
Given the current circumstances, Guan Hu’s suspicion seemed well founded.
“Yesterday, the Americans again lodged a diplomatic demand with our Foreign Ministry, still insisting that we hand over Li Changjiang.”
Bang!
A teacup on the table jumped with the force of the blow.
“Bastards! Who do they think we are? Libya? Iraq?”
“Calm down, Old Xiang. The Americans have always been domineering, but our immediate priority is to find Li Changjiang. For them to be so unusually insistent on a foreign national, that kid must have done something extraordinary.”
Hu Dayou tried to smooth things over.
But just then, the nameless elder spoke up.
“Notify Guan Hu immediately—their mission objectives must change. The first priority is to find this young man, Li Changjiang, and bring him back. Remember—bring him back alive!”
“Yes, sir!”
At his words, Xiang Guofang leapt to his feet.
The old man nodded, walked to the door, then turned abruptly.
“A soldier must have courage! Xiao Hu, you should learn from Xiang Guofang in this regard.”
Hu Dayou snapped to attention.
“Yes, Commander!”
(A soldier must have courage! Let this be a tribute to those warriors who once fell on the battlefield. Thank you for all you have done for our great era and our nation!)