Comrade, your ingredients are too complicated.

In the exchange and discussion of technology, time always slips away silently.

In the blink of an eye, more than an hour had passed.

The profound expertise Huanghe has demonstrated in the aviation field, coupled with its exceptional technical prowess, has earned the deep admiration of designers throughout northern China.

After compiling the materials that needed to be reported to Lengfeng City, the team leader from the Yakovlev Design Bureau sighed, then said with great regret:
"Failure to retain a top scientist like Huang is an irreparable regret for us in the North. If you hadn't left back then, the war situation would certainly not be so bad now."

"Well, at least there's a solution to the problem. It's never too late to mend the fence after the sheep are lost."

Hearing the leader of the allied team's sentiments, Huang He's thoughts suddenly returned to the days and nights he spent working and studying at the Second Special Design Bureau a few years ago.

During that unforgettable period, he and several foreign scientists received unreserved guidance and care, which allowed him to truly experience the nobility and warmth of the spirit of internationalism.

Thinking of this, Huang He turned his gaze to the representative of the Lavochkin Design Bureau and then asked tactfully:
"Comrade Smirnov, I remember that the Second Special Design Bureau and your bureau have always cooperated very closely. After the outbreak of war, have you seen my teachers and friends? How are they now?"

"After the war ends, if I have the chance, I will definitely go and see them again."

The engineers from the Lavochkin Design Bureau were slightly surprised by these words.

Because their collaboration with the Second Special Design Bureau began in 1941 and was highly classified, their allies should not have known this intelligence.

However, considering the other party's previous work experience and the repeated instructions from his superiors before the team set off, he finally revealed what he knew.

"Comrades are all doing well now, and everyone is safe and sound."

"Because of the special nature of the technology and its wartime contributions, Comrade SDL even personally signed the supplementary clauses to Order No. 227, which explicitly prohibited the arrest of any senior aviation industry engineers in the bureau."

During World War II, OKB-2 was one of the few departments where no high-ranking officers were executed. All officers performed their duties normally during the war and there is no record of them suddenly disappearing.

However, what this representative did not know was that the NKVD resident special envoy of the bureau had been sent to the front line by the bearded man at the end of 1941.

There was nothing he could do; he was the only one who wasn't related to anyone by blood.

Comrade SDL's obsession level accidentally exceeded 25, and someone has to take responsibility.

Upon learning that his mentor and close friend were both safe and sound, Huang He unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. However, the team leader, clearly aware of some inside information, quickly changed the subject:
"Comrades, let's reminisce another day. We have more important tasks to deal with right now."

"Director Huang, could you arrange a test flight demonstration for us? Although the performance data you provided is convincing, it's best to be more rigorous as this is a key matter that needs to be reported to Leng Fengcheng."

"The test pilot we brought on this trip is an ace from the Eastern Front. I believe he will be able to complete the combat evaluation of the Storm and Grudge fighters efficiently."

Upon hearing this, Huang He's expression turned serious, and he immediately composed himself.

He gestured to Captain Wang Hai, who was waiting in the side. This strongest soldier in the Eighth Route Army Air Force was the best candidate to entertain the Russian test pilot.

"Captain Wang, I'm leaving the rest to you."

"If conditions permit, you can take your allies to the battlefield to find the Japanese. They are all ace pilots, and using the North China Area Army Aviation to practice would be a good choice."

"See you later, I'll be waiting for your good news."

······
After watching the VVS delegation's convoy drive towards Wanquan Field Airfield, Huang He immediately returned to the reception room. As soon as he opened the door, several fierce gazes locked onto him like searchlights.

Looking around at the room full of eager engineers, Huang He skipped all the formalities and simply pulled a brown paper bag from his briefcase.

"Boom!"

The thick bag slammed onto the conference table with a dull thud. But in the next second, the design drawings inside were swept clean by the Russians.

"Go away, what are you crowding for? Don't join the fun! This weight and caliber, is it a tractor or a heavy tank blueprint? Can you OKB-183 even understand this?"

"Give it to me, give it to me! Look closely at the weapon number. T-3485, the medium tank project is under our jurisdiction! The blueprints for the self-propelled gun are on my left, don't tear them!"

"Mine, mine, move aside! This open-style fighting compartment with heavy artillery is clearly our department's business."

After a near-gangty "spoils-dividing" ceremony, the Russians finally managed to distribute the data according to the design bureau's affiliation.

But after only five minutes, the rustling of pages turning in the conference room suddenly fell silent. Everyone looked up in unison, their eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment as they stared at Huang He.

His expression and his demeanor were exactly the same as when the British delegation visited Wusu Airport a year ago.

Ah, no! Who exactly is the Soviet?
Am I a stand-in? Your medium and heavy tanks look rather rough and unrefined. And how come many of their designs coincide with our ideas?

It means that the waves of the Yangtze River keep pushing the previous waves forward, while the previous waves die on the beach.
Faced with the bewildered yet inquisitive gazes of the Russians, even the seasoned Huang He felt a little embarrassed.

But it's not a big problem, we're thick-skinned.

Huang cleared his throat tactically, then calmly delivered a carefully prepared technical explanation:
"As we all know, the armored forces of the People's Republic of China were initially a hodgepodge of equipment from various countries. Our Eighth Route Army, however, combined the strengths of many and developed a series of new tanks based on Soviet tanks."

"As for those heavy tanks, they were originally secret weapons prepared for the Japanese Kwantung Army."

"However, we found that we did not need heavy tanks to deal with the Japanese, so we took out these blueprints to support our allies who were deeply involved in the war."

Clearly, Huang He's explanation was not convincing. However, the Russians didn't care about that; they were only concerned with two key indicators of the new equipment: performance parameters and combat data.

With the battle at a critical juncture, who would care about unimportant details?

Seemingly sensing his ally's urgency, Huang He pulled out several telegrams from his briefcase, detailing the T-3485's engagements with Leopard tanks in North Africa and the exchange ratios.

When the Russians saw the damage ratio of 1:1.3 to 1.5, the entire conference room erupted in cheers, with almost everyone exclaiming in disbelief.

The reason is simple: the T-34 equipped with a 76mm gun could only deliver a ratio of 3.5 to 4.2 to 1, while the data provided by their allies was something they wouldn't even dare to dream of.

Adhering to the principle of striking while the iron is hot, Huang He waved the blueprints for WZ-596, WZ-693, and WZ-813 in his hand and continued to promote them in an enticing tone:
"Let's leave T-3485 for now. Seeing is believing, and you comrades will be able to observe it up close later, or even drive it around yourself a few times."

"However, this tank can only help you deal with the Panther crisis. To take down the Tiger, you still need the WZ-693. Even if the Germans upgrade the intensity of armor-piercing shells, this heavy tank will not become obsolete." "As for the WZ-596 and WZ-813, these two tanks will basically have no rivals for the next three to five years."

"As long as Lengfeng City agrees, our Eighth Route Army will immediately expand and build new production lines to send a steady stream of armored equipment to the eastern front."

While the Russians were engrossed in the data bombardment, the Yellow River quietly moved to the side of the middle-aged handsome man.

The moment their eyes met, a smile involuntarily curved their lips—a shared joy born of perfect understanding.

After taking a large gulp of water from his enamel mug, Huang patted his older brother on the shoulder, then whispered in his ear:

"I won't participate in the rest of the negotiations, and I'll take Makarov with me. How much territory we can recover this time depends entirely on your performance, brother!"

"Some opportunities only come once in a generation. Today's discussions should pave the way for a peaceful future!"

······
The following day, a certain large northern country.

The golden-red morning light flowed across the dome like molten copper. The red star at the spire was the first to ignite, like a revolutionary flame suspended in the mortal world.

In the shadow of this splendor, an unrecorded trial is quietly unfolding as the sun rises.

Inside the underground special interrogation room, an unshaded light bulb hung above the iron table, its flickering light casting shadows on the pipe in the bearded man's hand.

In the corner, two NKVD army envoys remained silent, but their eyes were fixed on the person being interrogated: Major General Shumilov, commander of the 64th Army.

After a moment of silence, the bearded man slowly rose from behind the table, the sound of his boots tapping on the concrete floor like the ticking of a second hand. He stopped in front of Shumilov and suddenly used the stem of his pipe to lift the man's chin:
“Mikhail Stepanovich Shumilov, the Germans crushed your army group in just five days. Was that also a tactical mistake?”

"I also heard that you didn't even blow up the bridge during your retreat. Did you forget about it, or did you leave it for Paulus on purpose?"

Shumilov, his voice hoarse, defended himself: "Comrade SDL, the troops were short of food and clothing. We hadn't received any supplies for three days when we retreated, and..."

Before he could finish speaking, the bearded man slammed his hand on the table, knocking over the ink bottle, and the red liquid splattered across the interrogation record.

"Lack of supplies? Then why was the 62nd Army, which also lacked supplies, able to hold its ground? And you, Major General, you almost turned Stalingrad into the enemy's parade ground."

"We had a chance to capture Paulus alive, but now we have almost lost the battle!"

Seeing his boss's obsession spiraling out of control, Old Man Bei quickly whispered a reminder: "The military court should take a look first."

The bearded man suddenly sprang to his feet, kicking over a chair. "Court? We need bullets now!" He ripped a military map from the wall, pointing at the signs of defeat and roaring, "These are all evidence of his treason! Execute him!"

"Fear is my last tactic! Either hold off the enemy, or die before them!"

Just as the bearded man was writing the word "execution" on the verdict and adding the note "no pardon," an NKVD soldier suddenly burst in.

The moment he stepped inside, two murderous gazes fell upon him.

Under immense pressure, he managed to speak with difficulty in his defense:
"Comrade SDL, a call from the Far East. Our colleagues at various design bureaus have verified the performance of our allied weapons and have now transmitted all the data and information back."

"In addition, the Flying Fox also sent a telegram. They expressed their concern for the Battle of Stalingrad and also mentioned matters related to the Soviet air corps."

"Please decide how to return the call."

Upon hearing this, the bearded man was momentarily at a loss for words to describe his feelings.

On the one hand, I'm happy that the CCP's bill, though free and without requiring resource exchange, is like a knife to my heart.

On the one hand, it's unpleasant; on the other hand, this is the only stable and powerful aid available at this stage that can solve the immediate crisis and is the only way to suppress the German offensive.

However, after hesitating for only a short while, the bearded man made his decision in a fit of rage. His voice was as cold as the Siberian permafrost, each word carrying a bloodthirsty murderous intent.

"Immediately send a telegram back to the Fox in Desperate Situation, saying that we will resolutely fulfill the historic agreement reached between Comrade Abram Adolf Abrahamich and the Chinese comrades."

"However, given the urgent needs of the current anti-fascist war, some ports will still need to handle the transshipment of Allied aid supplies. We will begin implementing these measures immediately after the war is won."

"The specific details of this decision will be elaborated in editorials published simultaneously in Pravda, Red Star and Labour, and will especially pay high proletarian tribute to the Chinese comrades for their heroic contributions in the anti-fascist struggle."

Indeed, the bearded man eventually compromised, because Stalingrad could not be lost.

This city not only bears his name, but is also the lifeline of the entire southern battlefield.

Once the Caucasus oil fields fall, they will fall completely into German hands, and the massive steel industry will be reduced to scrap metal due to fuel depletion.

Even more terrifying is that a defeat in the battle would allow the German Army Groups A and B to complete their encirclement, cutting their own Southern and Central Fronts in half.

By then, Coldwind City's flank will be wide open, and the entire eastern front will collapse completely.

A political catastrophe might be more devastating than a military defeat.

The fall of a city named after a leader will inevitably trigger a power earthquake at the highest levels. Those long-dormant opposition groups, separatist forces, and even certain "loyal comrades" will likely become restless.

He simply can't afford to lose.

As soon as the order was given, the bearded man turned around abruptly, the sound of his military boots hitting the ground and the violent thud of the door frame echoing for a long time in the underground interrogation room.

After he had completely disappeared without a trace, a high-ranking NKVD officer looked at his boss and muttered, somewhat bewildered:

“Abram Adolf Abrahamevich? Isn’t that a Trotskyist? Why would Comrade SDL suddenly mention his name?”

Upon hearing this, Bei Laohei rolled his eyes.

In that instant, he even wanted to strangle the army group's special envoy in front of him.

"You know nothing! Comrade SDL is just carrying out the legacy of the great mentor. What does it have to do with Trotskyists! If it weren't for the fact that you've followed me for so many years, believe me, I'd send you to debate with the Ice Axe God right now!" (End of Chapter)