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

Hucheng, Japanese Concession, East China Garrison Headquarters.

This is a three-story red brick building located at the intersection of Disiwei Road and North Sichuan Road in Hongkou District.

A flagpole stood on the rooftop, the Rising Sun Flag drooping limply in the early winter wind, like a dried rag.

Sandbags and barbed wire were piled up in front of the building, and Marine Corps sentries, holding Type 38 rifles with bayonets fixed, paced back and forth behind the sandbags.

In the operations room on the second floor, Matsui Iwane sat behind a large teak desk.

He was wearing the uniform of an army lieutenant general, with his collar buttoned up meticulously.

A large map of Hucheng City was hanging on the wall, covered with dense red markings, which showed the Japanese troop deployments, warehouse locations, and ship berthing points in Hucheng.

There were three people standing opposite, two men and one woman.

The woman stood at the front, wearing a well-tailored dark green cheongsam with a black woolen overcoat. Her hair was styled into an elegant bun and secured with a silver hairpin.

Her features weren't exactly stunningly beautiful, but her eyes were like two deep wells, revealing neither joy nor anger, nor any depth or complexity.

She was Yoshiko Kawashima, a spy raised by the Japanese imperial family, a ghost on the land of China.

"Yoshiko."

Matsui Iwane flicked his cigarette ash and said in a low voice, "You've heard about Ambassador Nakamura's matter."

"I've heard about it."

Yoshiko Kawashima's voice was calm. "It was Zhang Xueming's men who did it."

"The technique was clean and deadly, and the retreat route was flawless. He was a master."

Matsui Iwane stubbed out his cigarette butt in the ashtray and crushed it twice. "Nakamura's death is unimportant."

"But he died in Hucheng, in my defense zone, and that is my responsibility."

"The headquarters has issued an order to capture Hucheng before Zhang Xueliang arrives in Nanjing."

He stood up, walked to the map, and drew a circle around the location of the Hongkou Concession with his finger.

"I will be in charge of the military offensive, but before that, I need a reason."

"A reason that makes the whole world think that the empire is forced to retaliate."

He turned around and looked at Yoshiko Kawashima.

"Your mission is to create a conflict in Hucheng within three days."

"The nature of the matter must be serious enough for the Imperial government to lodge a formal protest with the Chinese authorities, and at the same time, it must make the international community feel that the Empire is protecting its overseas citizens."

"There are temples and monks in the Japanese concession. Let them cause trouble for the Chinese. You arrange it so that a fight breaks out and the Chinese seriously injure our monks, or better yet, kill a few of them."

A faint smile appeared on Yoshiko Kawashima's lips.

"Three days? That's too many."

She put her hands in her coat pockets. "One day is enough."

"The Japanese monk owned a piece of land on the edge of the concession, right next to the shantytowns inhabited by Chinese people."

"Tomorrow at noon, the Japanese monks will forcibly cultivate that land. The Chinese will come to stop them, and then they will take action."

"General Matsui only needs to deliver the ultimatum to the Chinese people's table by tomorrow night."

Matsui Iwane looked at her, remained silent for two seconds, and then nodded.

"Go do it."

"Hai!"

........

The next day at noon, on the south side of Baoxing Road, at the boundary of the Japanese concession in Hongkou.

The winter sun hung in the sky, as pale as a dead person's face.

On the south side of Baoxing Road is a vacant lot of about two acres, overgrown with withered yellow weeds, and under the roots of the weeds is black soil frozen solid.

To the east of the open space was the barbed wire fence of the Japanese concession, and to the west was a low-lying shantytown, which was a makeshift shelter built by refugees who had fled famine from northern Jiangsu. The shelter had reed mats for walls and tarpaulin for roofs, housing two or three hundred families.

Thirteen Japanese monks appeared in the open space.

They were dressed in black monks' robes, had shaved heads, and each held a brand-new shovel.

The leading Japanese monk, whose Buddhist name was Enjaku, was the abbot of Higashi Honganji Temple in the Japanese concession. He had a round face and a lot of fat on his body. He didn't look like a vegetarian monk at all, but rather like a butcher who slaughtered pigs.

He had close ties with Yoshiko Kawashima and received a substantial monthly stipend from the Special Higher Police.

"This is it."

With a shovel, Yuanji drew a line on the frozen ground beneath his feet, saying, "From here to that old locust tree, it's all temple property."

"Turn the soil today, so we can plant vegetables next spring."

The shovel sank into the frozen soil, making a harsh, creaking sound.

The clods of earth that were shoveled up were frozen solid, like stones, and were left aside.

The people in the shantytown quickly noticed the commotion.

A man surnamed Wang emerged from the shack, wearing a cotton-padded coat with more than a dozen patches, his eyes wide like copper bells.

"What are you doing? That's our land!"

Without raising his head, Yuanji continued to drive the shovel into the ground. "This land belongs to Higashi Honganji Temple, as evidenced by the land deed of the Consulate General of the Japanese Empire in Tojo."

"You Chinese have been illegally building shacks and occupying temple property for many days. Today we are taking them back. You must move out immediately."

The man surnamed Wang rushed over and grabbed the handle of the shovel that had been laid to rest. "What temple property!"

"I've lived here for five years! This land has always been an abandoned wasteland! You Japanese monks shouldn't push your luck!"

More and more people emerged from the shantytown behind them.

Some carried shoulder poles, some held hammers, and some were empty-handed, but the anger on their faces was enough to show their attitude.

They have lived here for several years. No matter how hard life is or how dilapidated the shack is, this is still their home.

Now a group of Japanese monks are carrying shovels and want to raze their homes to the ground. There's no such logic in the world.

"Move away?"

Someone in the crowd shouted, "This is Chinese territory! If anyone should leave, it's you!"

Yuanji slammed the shovel on the ground, a disdainful smile on his face. "You Chinese, you won't listen to reason, so you'll have to suffer the consequences."

"If we don't move out soon, the consulate police will come and arrest us."

"Who the hell are you calling a 'Chinaman'?!"

A young man rushed up and punched Yuanji in the face.

The punch was very heavy, and blood spurted from Yuanji's nose, splattering onto his black monk's robe.

He staggered back two steps, covered his nose, and stared in disbelief at the blood on his hands.

"They're hitting people! The Chinese are hitting people!"

The twelve Japanese monks behind him simultaneously raised their shovels and charged towards the crowd.

The shovel struck a person with a dull thud. An old man's forehead was cut open by the shovel blade, and blood flowed down his cheek, staining his gray beard red.

But the thirteen Japanese monks were facing two or three hundred angry shantytown residents.

In no time, Yuanji was pinned to the ground, his brand-new shovel was snatched away, snapped in two with a snap, and thrown at his face.

The other Japanese monks fared no better; they were all kicked to the ground, curling up like shrimp with their heads in their hands.

Yoshiko Kawashima stood at the window of a two-story building across the street, holding a glass of sake, quietly watching everything.

She saw Yuanji lying motionless on the ground, his face covered in blood. She smiled, put down her wine glass, and picked up the phone on the table.

The voice on the other end of the phone was that of Matsui Iwane.

"General, the matter has been taken care of."

"The abbot of Higashi Honganji Temple, Master Enjaku, and twelve Japanese monks were attacked by a mob on Baoxing Road in the Chinese-controlled area. Master Enjaku was killed and the other Japanese monks were seriously injured."

Matsui Iwane's deep voice came through the microphone, "Alright, go to the military police headquarters right now and have them write a more detailed injury report and take clearer photos."

"Tonight, this report, along with the Empire's ultimatum, will be delivered to the Chinese people's desks."

At 7:20 p.m. that evening, the first secretary of the Japanese consulate general in Toshiro, carrying an ultimatum signed by Matsui Iwane, drove to the Toshiro municipal government.

The ultimatum contained four points:

First, all anti-Japanese groups must be immediately banned, and no further anti-Japanese remarks or actions are permitted.

Second, the Chinese garrison must withdraw ten kilometers from the line of Hucheng Zhabei, Jiangwan, and Wusong, handing over the defense zone to the Imperial Marines for "temporary management".

Third, compensation will be paid for the Japanese monk's medical expenses and all losses incurred in the Japanese concession, totaling one million silver dollars.

Fourth, the city government of Hucheng must respond within 24 hours, otherwise the Empire will take all necessary measures.

At the same time the ultimatum was delivered, the headquarters of the 19th Route Army also received the news.

Zhabei, the headquarters of the 19th Route Army.

This is a two-story brick and wood structure building, which was originally the office building of a yarn factory in Zhabei. After the yarn factory went bankrupt, it was requisitioned by the military.

Upstairs in the operations room, Cai Tingkai, the commander-in-chief of the 19th Route Army, sat on a worn-out rattan chair, clutching the ultimatum sent by the Japanese in his hand, his veins bulging on his face.