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

"Zhang Xueliang, you are truly a useless piece of trash."

These four words were like four bullets, hitting Zhang Xueliang's skull one after another.

Zhang Xueliang froze for a full three seconds.

Three seconds later, a stream of black blood shot straight to the top of his head, and his neck, cheeks and forehead turned as red as a branding iron that had been heated through.

His eyes bulged outwards, the blood vessels in the whites of his eyes popped open one by one, his nostrils flared violently, his mustache bobbed up and down, and a clump of white saliva piled up at the corner of his mouth.

"What the hell did you say?!"

He roared, then clenched his fist, swung his right arm in a wide arc, and punched Zhang Xueming in the face.

The force of the punches was so strong it made a whooshing sound.

Just as the fist was about to smash into Zhang Xueming's face, Zhang Xueming suddenly moved.

He took a half step back with his left foot and slightly turned his body to the side. Zhang Xueliang's fist grazed his nose and missed.

In his rage, Zhang Xueliang threw a punch that he couldn't stop, and his momentum caused him to stumble forward half a step.

In that split second, Zhang Xueming's right hand had already swiftly seized his right wrist.

At the same time, he grabbed his upper arm with his left hand, inserted his right foot between his legs, twisted his waist and hips, and used all his strength to move from his feet through his waist, shoulders and arms in one smooth motion.

Over-the-shoulder throw.

Zhang Xueliang's body, weighing over 140 pounds, was lifted off the ground, flipped halfway through the air, and then slammed backward onto the blue brick floor of the side hall.

"Bang!"

With a dull thud, the dust in the cracks of the blue bricks was shaken up, sending a wisp of white smoke rising.

Zhang Xueliang landed on his back, the impact forcing most of the air out of his lungs. He opened his mouth and let out a muffled groan, like a fish thrown ashore.

He saw stars, and the chandelier on the ceiling suddenly appeared as four, swaying and spinning in his field of vision.

His arm was twisted behind his back by Zhang Xueming, and a dull pain came from his shoulder joint, making it impossible for him to move his entire upper body.

The confidential staff around them were all dumbfounded.

Secretary Hong's mouth was agape, and the pen in his hand fell onto the telegram paper, staining it with ink. The fingers of the two confidential staff members remained on the send key, forgetting to change the paper even after it had run out.

"You're useless. Your body has long been ruined by alcohol, women, and opium."

Zhang Xueming looked down at Zhang Xueliang, who lay on the ground with his eyes rolled back, with disdain. "The dignified young marshal of the Northeast Army couldn't even withstand one of my moves."

"A man like you is a million miles behind the old marshal. Do you really think you can subdue those 300,000 arrogant and fierce soldiers of the Northeast Army?"

He released Zhang Xueliang's arm, straightened up, and patted non-existent dust off his hands.

"Wolf Warrior"

"arrive!"

"Help Commander Zhang to a chair, pour him a cup of tea, and let him sober up."

"Keep an eye on him, don't let him make another move. He can't beat me, I'm afraid he'll hurt himself."

"yes!"

Zhan Lang waved his hand, and two soldiers stepped forward, one supporting Zhang Xueliang's arm and helping him up from the ground to sit down in a nearby armchair.

Zhang Xueliang slumped in his chair, a large bump on the back of his head, and his back bones were still aching.

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, and his eyes were filled with venom as he stared at Zhang Xueming, a deep sense of dread hidden in them.

In his memory, his second brother was a timid and useless good-for-nothing, a spineless coward whom even his father, Zhang Zuolin, couldn't be bothered to look at.

But that over-the-shoulder throw just now was clean, precise, and powerful—something the Zhang Xueming he knew could never have pulled off.

When exactly did his brother become this kind of person?

Zhang Xueming stopped looking at him.

He turned around and walked back to the table, took the still-dripping fountain pen from Secretary Hong's hand, picked up a blank telegram, and the pen tip fell on the paper, making a rapid, scratching sound.

"Send to Zhang Zuoxiang in Jinzhou."

"Your Excellency, Commander-in-Chief: The Japanese pirates will surely attack Fengtian tonight. The situation is urgent. I earnestly request that you depart immediately and return to Fengtian tonight to take charge of the overall situation."

"The city of Fengtian has been ordered to send a telegram to Liu Duoquan to deploy defenses, and all units outside the city have been ordered to return to reinforce. The safety of the overall situation rests on the shoulders of the Commander-in-Chief. Xueliang bows deeply."

Zhang Zuoxiang, a sworn brother of Zhang Zuolin, is now the pillar of the Northeast Army.

Originally, Zhang Xueliang had arranged for Zhang Zuoxiang to be stationed in Fengtian after entering the pass, but because someone in Zhang Zuoxiang's family passed away, he had to return to Jinzhou to handle the funeral.

The situation was urgent, and Zhang Xueming, disregarding the fact that Zhang Zuoxiang's family had not yet finished their funeral, requested that he immediately return to Fengtian to take charge of the war.

Zhang Xueming tore off a piece of telegram paper and handed it to the confidential clerk, then spread out a new sheet of paper.

"Send to Jilin, 23rd Independent Brigade, Li Guilin."

"Your unit is ordered to immediately move into Changchun and take control of the Jilin Provincial Military Headquarters. Xi Qia, the Chief of Staff of the Jilin Provincial Military Headquarters, has secretly defected to the Japanese invaders; the evidence against him is irrefutable."

"Arrest Xi Qia immediately, torture him severely, and make sure to capture all those who are colluding with the enemy within the Jilin Provincial Military Headquarters, leaving no one behind."

"After capturing Xiqia, you will temporarily take charge of military affairs in Jilin Province and await further instructions from the Assistant Commander."

He wrote this telegram with extraordinary force, the tip of his pen almost piercing the paper.

He remembered very clearly that during the September 18 Incident in history, the Japanese were able to occupy the entire Northeast in just four months. In addition to Zhang Xueliang's order of non-resistance, there was another fatal reason: there was a traitor within the Northeast Army.

Xi Qia, the chief of staff of the Jilin Provincial Military Headquarters, not only failed to organize resistance when the Japanese attacked Jilin, but also opened the city gates to welcome the Japanese invaders, thus handing over Jilin to them.

It was precisely because of the rapid fall of Jilin that Harbin lost its flank protection, and the entire northern Manchurian defense line collapsed one after another like dominoes.

He wanted to stab the traitor in the heart before the Japanese could even make a move.

Of course, the biggest reason for this was that Zhang Xueliang could not control the Northeast Army. Killing Yang Yuting would only discourage his men and ultimately lead to him being bought off by the Japanese.

Zhang Xueming tore off the telegram and then spread out the last sheet of paper.

The pen tip paused on the paper, and the ink smudged, leaving a small black dot.

He took a deep breath and began to write.

"Send this to Heihe, Ma Zhanshan."

"General Ma Zhanshan: The Japanese pirates will soon invade Heilongjiang. The Nenjiang Bridge is the gateway to Qiqihar. Guarding this bridge can stop the enemy from advancing north."

"I order you to immediately assemble your troops, move into the Nenjiang Bridge position, construct fortifications, and defend the bridgehead to the death."

"This battle must be fought to the death. We will not allow the Japanese pirates to cross the Nenjiang River even a step. Reinforcements will arrive soon. - Zhang Xueliang"

Telegrams flew out of the telegraph machine one after another, the clicking of the telegraph key echoing in the side hall like the urgent and determined beating of a heart.

The paper tape was ejected from the machine and piled up on the table, forming a small mountain.

The two cipher officers' fingers were already sore and numb, but no one stopped.

Zhang Xueming stood by the window, looking out at the night sky through the gaps in the carved window frame.

The autumn night in Beiping was deep and still. The moon hung obliquely above the eaves, its pale light spilling onto the gray tiles, giving off a cold and eerie glow.

A few rickshaw bells rang in the distance, but were quickly swallowed up by the night wind.

He didn't know what time it was.

Maybe it's past ten o'clock, or maybe it's not.

According to historical patterns, the Japanese will bomb the Liutiaohu section of the South Manchurian Railway at 10:20 PM tonight, and then launch an attack on Beidaying at midnight.

That will be the first shot fired in the September 18 Incident.

Judging from the course of history, there is probably not much time left.

He has done everything he could: mobilized all available troops, blocked all available information, and ordered the arrest of any traitors who needed to be apprehended.

As for whether the telegrams could be delivered in time, whether the generals who received the orders could carry them out, and whether the soldiers guarding Fengtian City could withstand the first wave of Japanese attacks.

These things are beyond his control at this moment.

It's all up to fate.

He turned around, walked back to the table, and his gaze fell on Zhang Xueliang, who was slumped in the armchair, still rubbing his shoulders.

"Send it to Beiping Airport immediately."

His voice was hoarse, but still steady. "Prepare three planes immediately, fill them with fuel, and get all takeoff preparations complete before dawn."

"After dawn, Marshal Zhang will fly back to Fengtian."

Secretary Hong paused for a moment, then spoke cautiously:

"Second Master, Beiping Airport is under the jurisdiction of the Northeast Army's Aviation Department, which is directly under the command of..."

"Don't you understand who's in charge now?" Zhang Xueming said without turning his head.

Secretary Hong swallowed hard, lowered his head, and pressed the send button again.

Zhang Xueming walked up to Zhang Xueliang and looked down at him.

Zhang Xueliang rubbed his shoulder, raised his head, and the two brothers' eyes met in mid-air.

Zhang Xueliang's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he did not speak.

"Big brother."

Zhang Xueming's tone suddenly became extremely heavy, "After dawn, you have to come back to Fengtian with me."

Zhang Xueliang did not answer.

"The Japanese are going to attack Fengtian. As the commander of the Northeast Army, you must stand at the front line."

He paused, then lowered his voice even further.

"If you don't go back, Dad's grave will really fall into the hands of the Japanese devils."

Zhang Xueliang's shoulders trembled slightly.

Zhang Xueming straightened up and stopped looking at him.

He turned around, walked back to the window, and looked up at the deep night sky again.

After daybreak, he would take this historically dissolute son back to Fengtian to fight the Japanese to the death.