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

Zhang Xueliang stood a little further away, his expression more complex than anyone else's.

He looked at Li Changkong, watching him maintain a standard, almost rigid, military posture even as he trembled with excitement, and suddenly felt as if something was stuck in his throat.

He was the young marshal of the Northeast Army and the nominal heir to this black soil, but standing at the end of the runway and looking at this scene, he suddenly felt like an outsider.

Zhang Xueming took a step forward and placed his hands on Li Changkong's shoulders.

Li Changkong's shoulders were as hard as stone, his muscles were taut under the fabric of his flight suit, and his whole body was trembling slightly.

Zhang Xueming pressed his palm firmly on Li Changkong's shoulder, then released it, took a step back, and gave a proper military salute to Li Changkong and Zhu Wudi, who had just walked up to him.

The moment that military salute was given, the entire airport fell silent.

Zhang Xueming held the rank of lieutenant general, while Zhu Wudi and Li Changkong were his subordinates.

In the military, the rule has always been that subordinates salute their superiors first.

But at this moment, Zhang Xueming raised his right hand to his temple, his fingers together, palm down, his movements meticulous and solemn, as if he were facing the national flag at a flag-raising ceremony.

Zhu Wudi was taken aback for a moment, then stood at attention and returned the salute.

Li Changkong returned the greeting, but his hand movement was so fast and forceful that he almost hit his own forehead.

Zhang Xueming lowered his hand, looked at the two pilots in front of him who were covered in the smell of gunpowder, and suddenly smiled.

"Hahaha! Hahahaha!"

He laughed for a long time before stopping, then wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes with his sleeve, and patted Zhu Wudi and Li Changkong on the shoulders with both hands, making a loud thud.

"Good! Good! Good!"

"I've waited ninety years for this day, ninety years!"

"Now I've finally gotten what I wanted, or rather, I've only gotten a small amount of interest back."

Zhang Xueming said something that left everyone puzzled, and Zhang Zuoxiang, Tang Yulin, and others looked at him with confusion.

Zhang Xueming, however, didn't care at all and didn't want to explain. He simply continued speaking to himself:

"Zhu Wudi, Li Changkong, you two listen up."

"You are the top heroes of the Northeast Army in this battle, and the pillars of the Fengtian Air Force!"

"Three aircraft carriers, two battleships, and one heavy cruiser—these are the mainstays of the Japanese navy. Their navy has built up its strength over twenty years, and you smashed it to pieces in just one afternoon."

"I, Zhang Xueming, will remember this merit for the rest of my life, and the Northeast Army will remember it for the rest of its life!"

He turned around and waved to the staff officers and generals behind him, his voice so loud it could be heard throughout the entire airport:

"Listen up, all of you! Starting today, the food allowance and pay for the Fengtian Air Force will be doubled, and all leave applications will be approved as long as they do not interfere with training!"

"Anyone who's not happy about this, let them come find me, Zhang Xueming!"

Zhu Wudi had no objection to this; he was loyal only to Zhang Xueming. Even if he ate only coarse food every day, he could still kill Japanese soldiers.

When Li Changkong stood in front of Zhang Xueming, his eyes immediately turned red.

He was a veteran who had crawled out of piles of corpses, and he had experienced so much that he could write a book about it, but at this moment, being praised like this by a lieutenant general in front of the entire army, he still felt a lump in his throat.

He raised his hand in salute, his voice so low that only Zhang Xueming could hear it:

"Commander, this was achieved by all the pilots risking their lives, not by me alone."

Zhang Xueming glanced at him and punched him hard in the chest.

"Alright, alright, if your voice is hoarse, then talk less."

At this moment, Tang Yulin had already had two jars of liquor brought over. Once the mud seal was broken, the strong aroma of the liquor wafted dozens of meters away with the wind.

He poured two large bowls, handing one to Zhu Wudi and the other to Li Changkong. He then poured himself another bowl, picked it up, and shouted at the top of his lungs to everyone around him:

"Come on! Let's toast our air heroes! Anyone who doesn't drink is a coward!"

Zhu Wudi took the bowl of wine, tilted his head back and gulped it down. The strong liquor burned his way down to his stomach, dispelling all the chill he had brought from the plane.

Li Changkong also drank, but his alcohol tolerance was clearly poor. He choked on the first sip, tears streaming down his face, and he coughed for a long time, which made the group of staff officers around him burst into laughter.

Zhang Zuoxiang walked to Zhang Xueming's side with his cane, and only spoke in a low voice after the surrounding noise had subsided a little.

"Xueming, that was a well-fought battle, a brilliant one."

"But there's something we need to do right now, while the iron is hot."

Zhang Xueming's smile faded slightly, replaced by an expression of attentive listening.

Zhang Zuoxiang tapped the ground with his cane and said, word by word:

"Immediately draft a report of victory and announce it nationwide."

Seeing that Zhang Xueming was about to speak, he raised his hand to stop him and continued speaking:

"It's not just about informing the various warlords and the Nanjing government, but about informing all the people of China."

"Send a copy to all major newspapers, radio stations, and news agencies."

"We must let all of China know that the Japanese are not invincible, and that the Japanese navy is not invulnerable."

"Three aircraft carriers, we can sink them if we want."

"The publicity effect of this good news is greater than that of our expansion of two divisions."

He paused, then spoke with even greater emphasis:

"In addition, it is hereby announced that the Northeast Army Air Force is recruiting pilots nationwide."

"Regardless of place of origin, background, or political affiliation, as long as you can fly a plane or are willing to learn to fly, you will be given a formal position, military pay, and benefits."

"At the same time, you need to send a purchase list to foreign countries and buy another batch of fighter jets, the more the better."

"After this battle, we will not have enough pilots. We must expand the size of our flight schools and air force as soon as possible."

After listening, Zhang Xueming nodded without hesitation:

"Do as instructed."

He turned and called out into the crowd, "Wang Jiazhen!"

Wang Jiazhen, the chief clerk of the Northeast Army, squeezed out of the crowd, still clutching a pen in his hand, clearly having been on standby at any moment.

He was a well-known writer in the Northeast Army. He wrote the telegram announcing Zhang Zuolin's inauguration and the telegram announcing Zhang Xueliang's change of flag. Almost all the important documents of the Northeast Army came from his pen.

This man, in his early forties, wore round-framed glasses and stood out awkwardly among a group of military men in uniform.

But everyone knows that his pen is more powerful than his gun. Back then, one of his proclamations against the traitors was so well-received that even the veteran generals of the Fengtian clique applauded it.

"Commander, what are your orders?"

Wang Jiazhen pushed up his glasses; the cap of his pen was already unscrewed, ready to write on the paper at any moment.

Zhang Xueming pondered for a moment, then spoke, uttering words that would later be recorded in history.