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

Early morning, Fengtian City, Zang Mansion.

This mansion, converted from a former Qing Dynasty prince's residence, is brightly lit tonight.

The vermilion gate was wide open, and two rows of large red lanterns hung from the entrance all the way to the main hall, illuminating the entire street in a crimson glow.

The hitching posts outside the mansion gate were full of tall horses and black cars. Drivers and guards squatted in twos and threes in the corners of the walls smoking, the embers of their cigarettes flickering in the darkness.

The sounds of string and wind instruments and the urging of toasts emanating from the main hall could be heard across two streets.

Inside the main hall, three large round tables were lined up in a row, and the tables were laden with delicacies from land and sea.

The crystal pork knuckle gleamed with oil, the braised deer tendon steamed with heat, and the large carp from the Liao River weighed a full three pounds, drizzled with a thick sauce and sprinkled with bright green scallions.

On each table were two jars of aged Laolongkou liquor, the aroma of which mingled with the smell of meat.

Zang Shiyi sat at the head of the main table in the very center.

Today he was wearing a brand new khaki wool coat, his hair was combed slicked back, revealing his full forehead.

He leaned back in his armchair, holding a glass of liquor in his hand, a smug smile on his face.

He had waited for this day for far too long.

When Zhang Zuolin was alive, he was a member of the Liaoning Provincial Government, a nominal position with little real power. His daily work consisted of stamping official documents, and even transferring a company of troops required approval from his superiors.

When Zhang Zuolin died, Zhang Xueliang came to power. He had finally climbed to the position of provincial chairman and thought it was finally his turn to show his skills.

And what was the result? Zhang Xueliang barely even glanced at him, firmly holding onto military power, while Zang Shiyi remained merely a tool for issuing official seals.

Then Zhang Xueming emerged out of nowhere, even more ruthless, directly undermining the entire military and political system in Northeast China.

Although Zang Shiyi managed to retain his position as provincial chairman by sheer luck, the power he wielded was even less than during Zhang Zuolin's time.

But it's different now.

Zhang Xueming led the main force to Fengcheng, Fengtian.

That madman surnamed Zhang actually went and clashed head-on with the Kwantung Army; it was a godsend.

All he needed was a forged letter and the title of "By Imperial Order of the Young Marshal" to bring all those who were dissatisfied with Zhang Xueming under his command.

And he did it.

The first person sitting to his left was his most favored henchman, Zhang Haipeng.

Zhang Haipeng was originally the garrison commander and garrison commander of Taonan. He was not a high-ranking officer in the Northeast Army, and his troops numbered only about one brigade.

Stationed in Taonan, that godforsaken place, they could only come to Fengtian City a few times a year.

But this person has one trait: greed.

Greedy for money, power, and life.

After Zhang Xueming seized power in a coup, Zhang Haipeng was almost included in the purge list because he had corresponded with several traitors who had been executed.

Although he escaped death, he lived in constant fear.

When Zang Shiyi was plotting his uprising, the first person he approached was him.

Zang Shiyi promised him that after the matter was accomplished, he would become the Commander-in-Chief of the Fengtian Garrison, in charge of all the troops stationed inside and outside Fengtian City, second only to the emperor.

Zhang Haipeng immediately knelt down and kowtowed three times.

Now, this former commander of the Taonan garrison is standing in front of Zang Shiyi, holding a wine glass, bending over, and smiling broadly.

He has already toasted Zang Shiyi no less than ten times tonight.

"Lord Zang,"

Zhang Haipeng held his glass with both hands, the rim of his glass pressing down slightly lower than Zang Shiyi's.

"I've lived most of my life and seen my fair share of heroes and great men, but I've never met anyone as decisive and strategic as Lord Zang!"

"I dare say, if it weren't for Lord Zang stepping forward, our 300,000 brothers in the three northeastern provinces would have been dragged into the fire by that madman Zhang Xueming sooner or later!"

Yu Chonghan, sitting opposite him, immediately took over the conversation.

Yu Chonghan was a wealthy landowner in Fengtian who had influence in both political and business circles, but he defected to the Japanese early on.

"Commander Zhang is absolutely right! Do you think the Japanese are so easy to defeat?"

"Zhang Xueming has a personal grudge against the Japanese for killing his father! If he's so brave as to fight the Japanese, why shouldn't he go fight them himself? Why drag 300,000 of our Northeast Army brothers into being his cannon fodder?"

"Exactly! Exactly!"

Sitting on the other side, Yuan Jinkai slapped the table in agreement.

He held his wine glass, spitting all over the tablecloth:

"We're not like Zhang Xueming; we have no grudge against the Japanese!"

"If the Japanese want the rights in South Manchuria, just give them to them. South Manchuria isn't our private property."

"But Zhang Xueming, on the other hand, insists on trying to fight a losing battle. Isn't that just courting death?"

"Mr. Yuan is right."

Yu Chonghan then joined in, and the two of them sang in harmony, like they were performing a crosstalk routine.

"That madman Zhang Xueming killed so many Japanese civilians; didn't he just stir up a hornet's nest?"

"Do you think the Kwantung Army is so easy to deal with? What will happen to us when the Japanese army is pressing in, and Zhang Xueming can't win and just runs away? What will happen to the people of Fengtian?"

"Lord Zang's actions were called restoring order and correcting past wrongs; he saved the lives of 30 million people in Northeast China!"

The others at the table echoed this sentiment.

Some people slammed their fists on the table, some tapped their wine glasses, and some stood up to bow to Zang Shiyi. The cacophony of compliments drowned out the music.

"Lord Zang is truly wise!"

"Without Lord Zang, our Northeast would be finished!"

"Zhang Xueming's perverse actions will surely lead to his demise sooner or later!"

As Zang Shiyi listened to these compliments, his smile deepened, and his eyes narrowed into slits.

He enjoyed this feeling, being surrounded and flattered, having the power to decide life and death, and to determine someone's future with a single word.

This is the treatment he deserves.

Zang Shiyi had spent twenty years in the political arena of Northeast China, kowtowing to Zhang Zuolin, flattering Zhang Xueliang, and acting like a grandson to Zhang Xueming. Now it was finally others' turn to kowtow to him.

He stood up and gestured with his hands to indicate that everyone should be quiet.

The noise in the main hall gradually subsided, and everyone's eyes were focused on him.

Zang Shiyi cleared his throat and raised his glass:

"What you all just said is both right and wrong."

The crowd looked at each other, wondering what he meant.

Zang Shiyi smiled slightly, took a sip of wine, and then said unhurriedly:

"Zhang Xueming deserves to die, that's for sure, but we started this uprising not to escape, not to surrender, and certainly not to kowtow to the Japanese."

"We are doing this for the people of Northeast China! So that they can live in peace and stability!"

He emphasized the words "Northeastern people" very heavily, and slammed his wine glass down on the table with a dull thud.

"I have reached an agreement with the Kwantung Army Headquarters through secret channels."

Zang Shiyi's voice was smug. "Both sides agreed to keep to themselves."

"The Kwantung Army respects our military and political power in Fengtian and will not advance a single soldier into Fengtian."

"At the same time, the Kwantung Army's existing rights and interests along the South Manchurian Railway remain unchanged, as do its garrison rights in Lushun and Dalian, and its administrative rights in the South Manchurian Railway-affiliated areas."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, then emphasized his words:

"In other words, what the Japanese want is only some benefits in southern Manchuria, which has nothing to do with us."

"Nothing has happened to us! Fengtian is still our Fengtian, and Northeast China is still our Northeast China!"

"As long as the people are safe and sound, we can continue playing music and dancing!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a deafening cheer erupted in the main hall.

Zhang Haipeng was the first to stand up and applaud, clapping his big hands so loudly it sounded like he was going to smash them.

Yuan Jinkai stood up abruptly, raised his wine glass high, and shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Lord Zang's strategy is comparable to Zhuge Liang's decisive victory in the Three Kingdoms period, even before he left his thatched cottage! We are willing to follow Lord Zang, even unto death!"

"I'd go through fire and water for you!"

Everyone echoed in agreement, clinking glasses and spilling wine all over the floor.

Just as everyone was toasting and the atmosphere was at its peak, a telegram arrived.

"Chairman Zang..."

The confidential secretary's voice trembled, and the telegram in his hand rattled under the light. "Just received by the Fengtian Telegraph Office, a clear telegram, broadcast nationwide, signed...yes..."

"Who is it?" Zang Shiyi frowned and asked impatiently.

"Zhang Xueliang, Marshal Zhang."

The confidential secretary swallowed hard and finally uttered the name.

The air in the main hall seemed to have been suddenly sucked away, freezing instantly.

Everyone's glasses froze in mid-air, their smiles stiffened, and their eyes were all fixed on the telegram in the confidential secretary's hand.

Zhang Xueliang! The Great Marshal!

The banner they waved, the person they claimed to be loyal to.

What did he say?

"read."

Zang Shiyi's voice remained steady, but the fingers holding the wine glass tightened slightly.

The confidential secretary unfolded the telegram and read it aloud in a trembling voice.

The telegram was short, but every word felt like a red-hot branding iron, searing the faces of everyone present.

In the telegram, Zhang Xueliang, in his capacity as Commander-in-Chief of the Northeast Army, denounced Zang Shiyi for forging military orders, deceiving the world and stealing fame, and selling out the country for personal gain. He announced that Zang would be expelled from the Northeast Army, stripped of his citizenship, and identified as a first-class traitor, and sent the telegram to the whole country.

At the same time, it is solemnly declared that anyone who conspires with Zang Shiyi to rebel will be treated as a traitor and collaborator, and will be dealt with without any leniency.

The telegram was finished being read.

The main hall erupted in chaos.