You are ordered to support the War of Resistance against Japan; China enters Level 1 combat readines

"Snapped!"

"Snapped!"

Guan Xue remained expressionless, slapping the man seven or eight times in total.

The captain's cheeks swelled up at a visible speed, and blood from his nose dripped down the corner of his mouth, staining his uniform in a glaring way.

But he didn't dare to dodge, didn't dare to block, and didn't even dare to groan. He could only endure the beating with his back straight.

The courtyard was so quiet that only the sound of slaps could be heard.

The other Japanese officers all stood solemnly, even their breathing was extremely soft.

No one dared to show the slightest contempt anymore.

They all realized that this stunningly beautiful new superior was not some pretty face who rose to power based on her looks.

This is a ruthless character. He immediately took action against the captain to establish his authority, and his moves were precise and ruthless, showing no mercy whatsoever.

She is truly beautiful, and she is also truly ruthless.

Guan Xue stopped when her palms started to feel slightly numb.

She took out a snow-white handkerchief from her pocket, slowly wiped her fingertips as if they were dirty, and then casually threw the handkerchief on the ground.

"Meeting."

With those two simple words, she turned and walked towards the conference room, her military boots clicking firmly on the bluestone slabs.

The Japanese officers behind him responded in unison and filed in.

In the conference room, everyone stood ramrod straight; no one dared to sit down, nor did anyone dare to look up or wander off.

The lingering force of those dozen or so slaps still lingered, and no one dared to question the master of the Snow Agency anymore.

Guan Xue sat in the main seat, her fingertips lightly tapping the table, her gaze sweeping across the room.

She knew that from this day forward, this snow-covered organization would truly belong to the Guan family.

The meeting started quickly and ended quickly.

With his authority established, no one dared to show the slightest disrespect.

Guan Xue gave a brief self-introduction and then asked the commanders of each squad to report their organizational structure and areas of responsibility in turn, which took no more than fifteen minutes.

In the end, she only set three ironclad rules: intelligence must not be left unresolved overnight, execution must be carried out without compromise, and those who leak secrets will be executed!

There were no unnecessary pleasantries; the meeting ended abruptly after the words were spoken.

A group of Japanese officers filed out, and as they passed the head of the table, they all instinctively lowered their heads, none daring to look directly into those beautiful yet cold eyes.

The sound of slaps in the courtyard just now seemed to be etched in everyone's minds. Everyone knew that this female officer, though seemingly charming, was ruthless and decisive.

……

Headquarters of the North China Area Army.

The adjutant stood bowing in front of the desk and gave a detailed report on the activities of the Snow Agency that morning, including how many times Guan Xue had slapped him and the captain's injuries.

Upon hearing this, Okamura not only didn't get angry, but leaned back in his chair and chuckled softly, his fingertips tracing the edge of the teacup: "Heh, indeed, the most poisonous heart is that of a woman."

In his opinion, this was no big deal at all.

Imperial Army officers were meant to be molded.

What's wrong with slapping a subordinate who is disobedient and insubordinate?

If she were just a pretty face who only knew how to speak softly, he wouldn't dare hand over the Snow Machine.

Guan Xue's move to establish her authority actually suited his wishes.

Only those with skill and sharpness are worthy of being the sharpest dagger thrust into the Eighth Route Army.

"Pass on my orders."

Okamura's smile faded, and he said calmly, "From now on, the personnel, equipment, funding, and intelligence support needed by the Snow Agency will be approved with priority, as long as they are within a reasonable range, without having to report to higher levels."

"Hey!"

The adjutant bowed and accepted the order, but was secretly surprised.

The commander has given Guan Xue almost complete trust, a treatment that even many veteran colonels have not received.

……

In the office of the Snow Agency, Guan Xue sat alone at her desk, with a thick stack of top-secret files spread out in front of her.

The warm yellow light of the desk lamp fell on the pages of paper. Her fingertips traced lines of intelligence, her brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

"Sixty million catties of rice, forty million catties of wheat flour, twenty million catties of cabbage, twenty million catties of potatoes, and ten million catties of cured meat..."

She read the numbers aloud, her voice trailing off with disbelief.

This is hardly the reserve capacity of a county town in Jiaodong.

Even Tokyo's civilian war reserve food depots might not be able to store this many supplies.

The Eighth Route Army was blocked year after year, and the base areas even had difficulty getting enough to eat. How could they possibly conjure up hundreds of millions of kilograms of grain out of thin air?

Absurd, utterly absurd!

Guan Xue continued flipping through the files; the latter half contained scattered records about a single person.

He had no name, no photo, and not even an accurate age; the intelligence only referred to him as "Mr. Shen".

"Origin unknown..."

"Extremely powerful..."

"A master of counter-espionage..."

Guan Xue's fingertip paused on the three words "Mr. Shen," and her eyes slightly lifted, showing interest.

When Gangcun summoned her before, he explicitly stated that there were two things to discuss. The first was to destroy the grain in Jiaodong City, but he did not mention the second thing at all.

Could it be related to this person?

Guan Xue shook her head, suppressing these thoughts for the time being.

Eat your food one bite at a time, and do things one step at a time.

Destroying the grain was her pledge of allegiance. If she couldn't even pass the first test, let alone the second mission, she would probably have to slink back to Tokyo and never have a chance to rise again.

Guan Xue frowned again. Destroying tens of millions of kilograms of grain was no easy task!

Guan Xue picked up her teacup, took a sip, and her gaze fell on the old locust tree outside the window.

A gust of north wind blew by, and the last few withered leaves fell from the branches, swirling and drifting down to the courtyard wall.

Then she laughed.

A bold plan gradually took shape in his mind.

……

Jiaodong City.

Wu Lao Er squatted on the earthen slope of the grain depot construction site, holding an enamel bowl and shoveling rice into his mouth.

The bowl contained freshly received white rice, topped with a spoonful of stewed radish until it was mushy, glistening with oil under the sun.

He chewed every grain of rice thoroughly before swallowing, and wiped the last bit of soup at the bottom of the bowl clean with the cornbread.

He had eaten dried sweet potatoes mixed with acorn flour for forty years of his life, and this was the first time he had ever tasted sweet rice.

A month ago, he was a tenant farmer in Lijia'ao, barely making ends meet by counting grains of rice. His biggest wish was to cook an egg for each of his three sons during the Lunar New Year.

Later, the Eighth Route Army arrived and said they needed to repair the granary and were recruiting laborers. They promised to provide two meals a day and an extra three kilograms of grain.

He didn't believe it at first; what kind of good thing could there be these days?

It wasn't until his neighbor, Wang Laosan, had worked for three days and brought back a large bag of flour that he finally packed a pair of cloth shoes with open toes and went to the construction site before dawn to sign up.

It's not an easy job.

Building a granary requires ramming earth, lifting stones, raising beams, and laying tiles. He wielded a sledgehammer his whole life, and the calluses on his hands were so thick they could be used to sharpen knives.

But the construction site provided plenty of food. In the morning, the cornmeal porridge was so thick that you could stick chopsticks in it. At noon, there was white rice with stewed vegetables, and every few days there were bits of meat.

After working for ten days, he actually gained a roll of fat around his waist.

What made Wu Lao Er feel like he was dreaming was his own wife.

She worked in a clothing factory making cotton-padded clothes, and she received two kilograms of grain a day.

The couple together consumes five jin (2.5 kg) a day.

The three or five children no longer had to huddle together on the kang (a heated brick bed) complaining of hunger, and even the youngest girl's face regained some color.

After finishing work in the evening, Wu Lao Er patted the dirt off his backside and carried the three jin of rice he had just received that day home.

While the other migrant workers in the shed were chatting idly, someone asked him why he ran so fast every day. Without turning his head, he threw down a sentence: "Going home to see my wife."

Laughter and curses filled the shed.

He moved with lightning speed, already planning in his mind to have his wife cut two ounces of cured meat and stew it with potatoes that evening, so that his three sons could eat an extra bowl of rice.