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

Lushun Railway Station.

This Russian-style train station, built by the White Bear people, is shrouded in the morning mist of early winter.

The pointed-roofed waiting hall resembled a silent castle in the hazy sky, with the railway tracks stretching northward and disappearing into the end of the morning mist.

On the platform, a special train is already on fire and ready to depart.

The engine spewed out white steam, which quickly condensed into frost flowers in the cold air, falling onto the bluestone slabs of the platform, and then being trampled into mud by the soldiers' boots.

There was no grand farewell ceremony today, no military band, no honor guard.

There were only two brothers.

Zhang Xueming was wearing a dark gray wool coat with the collar turned up, covering half of his face.

He stood on the platform, looking at his older brother in front of him, and suddenly felt that he had a lot to say, but when the words reached his lips, he couldn't utter a single word.

This journey south is long and arduous, fraught with challenges.

Although Jiangnan is beautiful, it is not my homeland.

The Zhang family's roots are in Northeast China, in Fengtian, on this black soil where the ground is frozen solid.

From this day forward, Zhang Xueliang will go alone to that unfamiliar land of water and marshland to become the King of Jiangnan.

The two brothers are separated for the rest of their lives, and no one knows when they will meet again.

"Big brother."

Zhang Xueming spoke, his voice a little hoarse, "Have a safe journey."

There are only four characters.

He wanted to say more.

Once you arrive in Hucheng, be careful of the Chairman's men. Keep Zhanlang's team with you at all times, and send a telegram back if you encounter any indecisive situations.

But when he brought the words to his lips, he found he couldn't say anything.

Zhang Xueming, the iron-blooded general who had fought his way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, suddenly found that his throat felt like it was blocked by something.

Although he looked down on Zhang Xueliang when he first transmigrated, the two brothers fought side by side in the most dangerous places for so long.

The person who accompanied him the longest after he traveled through time was Zhang Xueliang.

Now that Zhang Xueliang is leaving, Zhang Xueming is ultimately reluctant to part with him.

Zhang Xueliang looked at him and smiled.

"Second brother."

He took a step forward and placed his hand on Zhang Xueming's shoulder.

"The spring breeze may not reach you, but mountains and rivers will make way for you."

Zhang Xueliang's voice was very calm, as if he were talking about something that had been destined long ago.

May we, brothers, each strive to reach the summit and meet again.

He paused, and something indescribable welled up in his eyes, as if he had remembered many things in that instant.

My childhood in the Marshal's Mansion in Fengtian, the loud noise at Huanggutun that day, the gunshots in the theater on the night of September 18th, and the blunt knife in front of Wan Zhong's tomb in Lushun.

"My second brother..."

He took a deep breath and smiled, revealing his teeth.

"Invincible under heaven."

Four words, as light as an ordinary farewell, yet as heavy as the weight of an entire era.

Zhang Xueming remained silent.

He opened his arms and hugged his elder brother tightly.

The two brothers embraced on the platform, surrounded by heavily armed guards and rows of soldiers about to head south, but no one uttered a sound.

Everyone watched this scene in silence, as if afraid of disturbing something.

A moment later, the two separated.

Zhang Xueliang turned around and strode towards the carriage.

He didn't turn around.

Because he feared that if he turned back, he would never be able to leave the black soil that gave him birth and nurtured him.

The sound of the train doors closing echoed across the empty platform.

With a long whistle, the train's wheels began to turn, the iron wheels rolling over the rails with a dull thud.

The special train gradually accelerated through the morning mist, with black carriages passing by Zhang Xueming one by one.

Zhang Xueliang's figure flashed past the car window. He stood in front of the window, his hand on the glass, facing the direction of Lushun.

Then the train pulled away from the platform, into the morning mist, and headed towards that unknown Jiangnan region.

Zhang Xueming stood on the platform, staring motionless in the direction the train had disappeared.

The morning breeze blew from the end of the railway tracks, filling his coat collar with a chilling cold.

Yuan Lang stood three steps behind him, his hands behind his back, without saying a word.

He knew that any comfort would be superfluous at this moment, and all he could do was stand there like a statue, making sure that no one could disturb the commander-in-chief's moment.

As Zhang Xueming gazed in the direction the railway tracks stretched out, a new image suddenly appeared in his memory.

That year he was just a child, and his father took him and his older brother to Tieling to hunt.

Three people rode horses across the frozen Liao River, the horses' hooves making a crunching sound on the ice.

Dad was in the front, he was in the middle, and the eldest brother was chasing behind, shouting, "Second brother, slow down!"

Father looked back, burst into laughter, and his laughter startled the crows on the riverbank, which fluttered and flew all over the sky.

That was the best winter in his memory.

Later, my father died in Huanggu Village on his way home.

Now the two brothers have completely separated, one in the south and the other in the north.

Zhang Xueming was indeed behind the Executive Yuan election, and he learned about the treaty negotiations through secret channels.

Since learning about the treaty, Zhang Xueming had been plotting a series of events with the aim of pushing Zhang Xueliang to power.

It's impossible for both brothers to be in Northeast China. Two tigers cannot share one mountain. Even if Zhang Xueliang was incompetent, he still had a group of loyal brothers under his command.

Zhang Xueming did not want to turn the sword against his own people. If he wanted to become the warlord, he had to deal with Zhang Xueliang properly.

After much thought, he realized that the south was the most suitable place for him.

After all, as long as Zhang Xueliang can secure his position in the south and has his support in the north, he will definitely be able to completely suppress Chiang Kai-shek.

Now the two brothers are separated by thousands of mountains and rivers, the Yellow River and the Yangtze River, numerous passes and mountains, and battlefields filled with gunfire.

Between North and South lies the uncertainty of whether we will ever meet again.

Looking at the commander's back, Yuan Lang suddenly felt that the iron-blooded commander who was decisive on the battlefield was actually somewhat lonely standing on the platform in the morning mist.

The special train sped along the tracks.

The stove inside the carriage was burning brightly, the iron stove glowing slightly red, and the heat filled the carriage.

Zhang Xueliang sat by the window, where a thin layer of frost had formed on the glass. He ran his finger across the frost, revealing a transparent crack.

Through that gap, he saw Lushun receding into the distance.

He suddenly remembered his father.

"father........."

Zhang Xueliang's voice was very soft, so soft that only he could hear it.

"Don't blame your son. He's leaving Northeast China, but he hasn't let you down."

He lowered his head and buried his face in his palms.

After a long time, he finally raised his head again, his eyes slightly red, but his gaze had returned to calm.

He watched the northeastern land gradually disappear into the morning mist outside the car window, a smile appearing on his lips.

Second brother, you must protect this black soil.

My elder brother has made a name for himself in Jiangnan.

We brothers will meet at the summit.

Zhang Xueliang was filled with ambition, and a surge of heroic spirit arose spontaneously.

On his journey to Jiangnan, he was determined to make his mark and show his second brother that he was no useless older brother.

Just as Zhang Xueming was still full of high spirits, a piece of bad news came directly from Nanjing to his special train.

The Japanese have made their move in Tojo!