On the eve of the fall of Liaodong, he led his troops in a remonstrance against the young marshal.

The charcoal fire crackled softly in the tin stove, sparks flew onto the stove walls and quickly went out.

"At that time, I'll be the Premier, and you'll be the King of Northeast China. Who will listen to whom?"

Zhang Xueming did not answer immediately.

He sat there, holding the black iron tongs in his hand, the tips of the tongs gently scraping across the charcoal, making a rustling sound.

The firelight reflected on his face, dividing his expression into two halves: one half a warm orange-red, the other a deep shadow.

He raised his head and looked at Zhang Xueliang.

His gaze was calm, as calm as a stagnant pool, without even a ripple.

What do you think?

There are only three words.

The three words, seemingly light and airy, landed in this study with its charcoal fire burning, yet felt colder than the minus twenty-degree wind outside the window.

Zhang Xueliang was stunned.

He stood there, still clutching the telegram that had filled him with ecstasy, his smile freezing on his lips before it could fully bloom.

What do you think?

It's not "Of course you listen to me," not "Let's discuss it," and not even a perfunctory "We'll talk about it later."

It means "What do you think?"

The real meaning of these two words is that the answer is already there; think about it yourself, and then talk to me.

Zhang Xueliang's mind raced at that moment.

He recalled how readily Zhang Xueming had agreed to give him the Wolf Warriors team, without even blinking.

That was a team of special forces soldiers who could take on a hundred men each, and Zhang Xueming just gave it to them like that?

At the time, he felt that he had gotten the better deal.

Only now did he realize that it wasn't a bargain at all.

That group of people were Zhang Xueming's eyes.

It was an invisible rope tied around his own neck.

Two hundred thousand troops allowed Zhang Xueliang to gain a foothold in Jiangnan and to stand tall in front of Chiang Kai-shek, but they could not free him from Zhang Xueming's control.

Because the food, ammunition, and supplies for this 200,000-strong army all had to be transported from the Northeast.

And the Northeast belongs to Zhang Xueming.

Although Yu Xuezhong was his old subordinate, Yu Xuezhong's family was in Fengtian, under the control of Zhang Xueming.

The same goes for the Wolf Warrior team.

They were indeed protecting his safety, but at the same time, they were also monitoring his every move and word.

What he said, whom he met, and what documents he signed in Hucheng today will be on Zhang Xueming's desk within three days.

He is the Premier of the Executive Yuan, the nominal highest administrative official of China.

In reality, he was merely Zhang Xueming's spokesperson in Jiangnan.

Thinking of this, Zhang Xueliang felt a surge of indescribable emotion welling up in his chest.

It would be a lie to say I wasn't angry.

He is the elder brother, and he is the rightful commander of the Northeast Army. He has just been elected Premier of the Executive Yuan, reaching the pinnacle of power and bringing glory to his ancestors.

In the end, he still had to listen to the second son.

But that anger only lingered in his chest for a few seconds before being suppressed by another, stronger emotion.

During this time, he witnessed firsthand what Zhang Xueming had done.

When the Japanese attacked, it was Zhang Xueming who led his men to hold them off.

When beheading people at Wan Zhong's tomb, Zhang Xueming was the one who beheaded the most and the most ruthlessly, until the blade became dull and his eyes turned red.

Lushun was captured by Zhang Xueming, and the Battle of Fengcheng was also won by Zhang Xueming.

What about yourself?

He listened to operas, smoked opium, and offered no resistance...

Thinking of this, Zhang Xueliang suddenly felt his face burning.

He had to admit a fact:

The second child is indeed better than me.

They are better at fighting than me, better at making decisions than me, and better at winning people's respect than me.

Now, everyone in the Northeast Army is completely convinced by Zhang Xueming.

They call him "General" only because he shares the surname Zhang.

But the way they looked at Zhang Xueming was the kind of burning gaze one would give to a true commander; they firmly believed that Zhang Xueming was the one who could truly lead the Northeast Army to survival.

Zhang Xueliang suddenly felt relieved.

Since they are brothers, what is there to fight about?

Blood is thicker than water.

The chairman would harm him, and those old fogies in the parliament would scheme against him, but the second-in-command would never harm him.

If the second brother wanted him dead, he would have left him long ago. Why wait until now?

Zhang Xueliang closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When I opened my eyes again, most of the gloom had dissipated.

"OK."

He nodded, his tone carrying a sense of relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

"Second brother, I'll listen to you. You tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

In just a few seconds, Zhang Xueliang gave himself a psychological pep talk.

Zhang Xueming looked at him, and a genuine smile finally appeared on his lips.

There was no mockery or smugness in that smile; it even carried a warmth that only brothers share.

"Don't worry, big brother."

He placed the fire tongs on the edge of the stove, stood up, and patted Zhang Xueliang on the shoulder.

"I won't hurt you. We were born of the same father and raised by the same mother. Even if our bones are broken, our tendons are still connected."

"Sending you to Jiangnan is giving you a way out, and it's also the most crucial step for our Northeast Army to save the country."

Zhang Xueliang grinned, a smile that contained both relief and self-deprecation.

"Alright, alright, I'm not a three-year-old, you don't need to comfort me."

He waved his hand, turned around and walked back to his tiger-skin recliner, plopped down, and nestled into the soft tiger skin, looking up at the beam on the ceiling.

"Let's get ready."

Zhang Xueming said:

"I have already sent someone to inform them that all the major generals of the Northeast Army will arrive in Lushun first thing tomorrow morning."

"Since it's the Premier of the Executive Yuan taking office, the ceremony shouldn't be small. Let everyone come and see you off."

Zhang Xueliang grunted in acknowledgment, then suddenly sat up, looked at Zhang Xueming, and slowly said:

"Perfect timing, I should hand over some things to you now."