Siheyuan: Hang Jia Dongxu, smash Banggeng to death!

The police station's phone kept ringing.

Huang Jinrong lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. He had spent his whole life struggling in Shanghai and had seen all sorts of storms.

"Don't panic!"

He roared, and the office fell silent. "Get back to work. When the army enters the city, someone needs to maintain order. This is the army of China."

But he wasn't sure himself.

The Shanghai consulate was brightly lit.

The head of the Special Higher Police, Ichiro Yamamoto, was on the phone, his face as gloomy as the sky before a storm.

The person on the other end of the phone was a spy who had infiltrated Lu Yongxiang's unit; his voice was trembling.

"Lord Yamamoto, that unit is extremely well-equipped; their tanks and armored vehicles are models we've never seen before. They are more advanced than any of the Empire's war machines."

"Baka!"

Ichiro Yamamoto slammed down the phone.

He stood up and paced back and forth in his office. He had been working undercover in Shanghai for many years, gathering intelligence, assassinating important figures, and turning warlords against their cause.

This was unprecedented. Overnight, a well-equipped army appeared out of nowhere, intending to take over Shanghai, without any warning or intelligence.

"You idiots! What are you doing? Send men to investigate! Find out the origins of this unit!"

"Hi!"

The empire's plans in Shanghai will not be disrupted by the sudden appearance of a single army.

He didn't believe that the army could turn the tide.

The news also reached Ding Li's mansion.

Ding Li was out socializing until very late last night and was sleeping soundly.

When the butler woke him up, he was still groggy.

"What is it?"

"Mr. Ding, a lot of troops have arrived outside the city, saying they want to take over Shanghai."

Ding Li sobered up instantly, sat up, and looked at the butler: "What army?"

"I heard it's the Chinese Independent Brigade, with several hundred tanks and artillery."

Ding Li remained silent for a moment, then lit a cigarette. Having spent so many years in Shanghai, he had dealt with all sorts of people.

Warlords, foreigners, Japanese, police—never has an army been so high-profile.

The key tank, that thing is not something that ordinary people or warlords can have.

"Where are Stephen Chow and the others?"

"Still sleeping."

"Don't call them anymore." Ding Li put on his clothes. "Let's see how things go first."

Stephen Chow was sleeping soundly in his hotel room when he had a dream in which he returned to Hong Kong and met Uncle Tat.

Uncle Da was still the same as always, smiling, holding a bowl of instant noodles. He reached out to take the noodles when suddenly a cannon went off.

He woke up with a start, sat up in bed, gasping for breath, his heart pounding.

"Grandson, what's wrong?"

"fine."

"By the way, what's all the commotion outside?"

Zhou Dafu said, "I heard that an army has arrived, and the maids say it seems like there's a war going on."

Stephen Chow slowly said, "I'll go take a look. You stay here and don't move."

Zhou Dafu nodded and then shrank back into the quilt.

When Stephen Chow walked out of the mansion, the outside was in complete chaos. Some people were running, some were shouting, and some were packing their luggage.

He walked against the flow of people towards the city outskirts.

Stephen Chow stood by the roadside, watching the slowly approaching steel behemoths, and a voice in his heart said, "History is about to be rewritten."

Lu Yongxiang's troops have already withdrawn, leaving completely cleanly without firing a single shot.

The soldiers, carrying their guns, walked dejectedly down the road, like a pack of stray dogs driven from their home.

Lu Yongxiang sat in the jeep, clutching the crumpled telegram in his hand, his old face long and drawn.

The adjutant asked cautiously, "Commander, are we just leaving like this?"

Lu Yongxiang glared at him: "Not leaving? Do you think you can defeat those tanks? The other side doesn't want to join either."

The adjutant lowered his head.

Lu Yongxiang sighed, "I've been running my business in Shanghai for so many years, and I never thought I'd be defeated by a kid."

He remembered the child standing next to the tank, wearing a little suit, shiny leather shoes, and with a cold look in his eyes.

He couldn't understand why Brigade Commander Chen would listen to a child's orders.

Whose young master is he?

That's awesome?

The jeep turned onto a side road and headed towards Hangzhou.

Lu Yongxiang took one last look back at the Shanghai skyline, where wisps of smoke rose and the first rays of dawn shone.

He looked away, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

Goodbye, Shanghai.

A mighty torrent of steel swept into Shanghai.

The tracks of the 99A tank rolled over the asphalt road, producing a dull rumble, like muffled thunder rolling in from afar.

The turrets of the 04A infantry fighting vehicle slowly rotated in the morning light, like vigilant eyes.

The antenna on top of the radar vehicle rotated continuously, emitting a faint buzzing sound, while the soldiers, fully armed, marched in unison.

Stephen Chow stood by the roadside, watching the futuristic army drive past him, his mouth agape so wide it could fit an egg, his jaw almost dropping to the ground.

It's not that he's unsophisticated.

In Hong Kong, he had witnessed the extraordinary abilities of the army; he had seen the military parade after the liberation of China, but compared to what was before him, those were nothing.

He didn't recognize any of these tanks or armored vehicles.

They don't even belong to this era, not to the 1960s before he traveled there.

He had taken history classes, covering topics from the Opium War to the Xinhai Revolution, from the Northern Expedition to the War of Resistance against Japan, and from the War of Liberation to the founding of the People's Republic of China.

This army is not recorded in textbooks, nor is it mentioned in any historical materials.

"Could it be that my arrival in this world caused a butterfly effect?"

Stephen Chow muttered to himself.

Zhou Dafu, who had secretly followed him, stood next to him, also looking dazed. He didn't know anything about tanks or armored vehicles, but those lumps of iron looked intimidating.

"Grandson, where did those people come from?"

Stephen Chow shook his head.

The line suddenly stopped.

The lead 99A tank turned its gun and aimed it at a building on the side of the road—the Japanese Consulate in Shanghai.

The Japanese flag was hanging on the roof, and soldiers jumped off their tanks and quickly surrounded the building.

Lin Tian got out of the command vehicle, walked to the consulate entrance, and looked up at the Japanese flag.

"I don't like looking up!"

"Let's begin."

Soldiers stormed into the consulate, and gunfire erupted.

Screams, curses, and pleas for mercy mingled together.

A middle-aged man in a suit rushed out of the building, raising his hands and shouting:

"We are diplomats from the Little Days Empire, you cannot..."

Before he could finish speaking, a gunshot rang out.

He collapsed on the steps, blood flowing down them.

Zhou Xingxing's pupils contracted. He hadn't expected this unfamiliar army to take direct action, storming into the consulate and shooting down diplomats. This was a declaration of war.

How will international public opinion view this?

How will the Ugly Eagle, France, and Germany react?

The gunfire stopped. Soldiers emerged from the consulate, and the leading officer saluted Lin Tian.

"Reporting to the commander, all thirty-seven people inside the consulate have been killed."

Lin Tian nodded: "What about the Chamber of Commerce?"

"We've already sent someone."

"Where are the Japanese in the French Concession?"

"Cleaning in progress."

"By the way, some police officers tried to stop them, but we shot a few dead, and the rest escaped."

A slow smile crept onto Lin Tian's lips as he said calmly, "Continue. Leave no one alive."

Those who help the poor are all traitors!

Kill!

……