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

As dawn broke and the sun climbed above the walls of Fengtian, Zhang Haipeng's three thousand men marched in a grand procession to the northern suburbs.

The team had been drinking all night, and many of them were still groggy from the hangover. The marching column wobbled and dragged itself for half a mile.

The flags were carried askew, and the rifles swayed on their shoulders. They didn't look like they were going to war; they looked more like a group of peddlers going to a market.

Zhang Haipeng rode his horse in the middle of the procession.

"Brothers, get your spirits up!"

"The airport's full of good stuff. Whoever rushes in first, I'll give them a hundred silver dollars!"

A few scattered responses came from the group, weak and feeble.

Zhang Haipeng didn't care, since he had no intention of actually paying out that hundred silver dollars anyway.

The team advanced along the frozen dirt road, and after turning through a grove of dead trees, the outline of the airport came into view in the distance.

The runway gleamed with a grayish-white light in the morning glow. At the end of the runway were rows of canvas tents and temporary hangars. Further in, the wings of several airplanes could be vaguely seen, reflecting a dull metallic sheen in the morning light.

Zhang Haipeng's eyes lit up immediately.

He drew his Browning pistol from his waist, raised it to the sky, and was about to yell "Charge!" when the line suddenly stopped.

The line in front seemed to have hit an invisible wall, and their steps came to a sudden halt.

The soldiers in the back row couldn't stop themselves and bumped into the backs of those in front, causing the ranks to scramble together.

Some people were whispering, some were craning their necks to look ahead, and some had even dropped their guns on the ground, but no one bent down to pick them up.

Zhang Haipeng's horse was blocked by soldiers who had stopped in front of it, and the horse pawed at the ground in frustration.

He cursed, shoved his pistol into its holster, and turned to dismount.

"Damn it, who the hell dares to block my way? Are they tired of living?"

Just as he was about to lash out, he saw someone.

The face was exceptionally clear in the morning light, its features distinct.

Zhang Haipeng's smile froze on his face, and the color drained from his face at a visible speed.

His lips began to tremble, the flesh on his cheeks shook uncontrollably, and the riding whip in his hand fell to the ground with a thud.

His body felt as if his bones had been removed, and he fell hard onto the frozen ground.

He tried to get up, but his legs wouldn't obey him; his knees buckled as soon as he managed to push himself up.

"Impossible...impossible..."

His voice sounded like it was being squeezed out of his throat:

"Weren't you in Fengcheng? How did you get here? How could you possibly be here...?"

The visitor was none other than Zhang Xueliang.

At this moment, he was wearing a crisp Northeast Army general's uniform, the gold stars on his epaulets gleaming coldly in the morning light.

He stood on the earthen slope, hands behind his back, looking down at Zhang Haipeng, who was lying paralyzed on the ground, his eyes as cold as ice.

"Zhang Haipeng".

"You beast, you've got some nerve!"

These words struck Zhang Haipeng like a thunderclap.

He shuddered and scrambled to his feet, crawling a few steps on his knees. In a very short time, the expression on his face shifted from terror to fawning.

He forced a smile that looked more like a grimace, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and bowed and scraped before Zhang Xueliang.

"General! General, you're back!"

Zhang Haipeng's voice was trembling with tears, it was hard to tell whether he was genuinely excited or frightened.

"That's wonderful! That's wonderful! Your Excellency is safe and sound! I've been worried sick about you day and night, unable to eat or sleep!"

As he spoke, his eyes actually reddened, and tears streamed down his face.

"You have no idea, ever since you were taken hostage by Zhang Xueming, the brothers have been feeling incredibly aggrieved."

"Fortunately, Elder Zang made a timely decision and successfully regained control of the three northeastern provinces. Now all the brothers are waiting for you to return and take command of the Northeast Army again."

He spoke with tears streaming down his face, and if those present hadn't known who he was, they might have been fooled by his performance.

Zhang Xueliang looked at him coldly, his eyes filled with undisguised disgust.

After Zhang Haipeng finished speaking, he managed to squeeze out a few words through gritted teeth.

"Zhang Haipeng, you bunch of beasts."

"They staged a mutiny behind my back, defected to the Japanese devils, and even dared to use my name. They deserve to die."

"I'm going to personally deal with you beasts today!"

The smile on Zhang Haipeng's face gradually disappeared.

He knelt on the ground, looking up at Zhang Xueliang. The flattery in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a desperate resentment.

His gaze swept around behind Zhang Xueliang. There was only Zhang Xueliang on the earthen slope. There were no guards, no adjutants, and not even an orderly.

Zhang Xueliang came alone.

A person.

If we can acquire his table, then Elder Zang will truly be able to control the emperor and command the feudal lords!

A sinister glint flashed in Zhang Haipeng's eyes.

He slowly stood up from the ground, the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched twice, and then he suddenly grinned.

"General, since you've put it this way, I won't pretend anymore."

He brushed the dirt off his knees, his voice suddenly rising eight octaves, "Guards! Take the Commander back to the Zang residence!"

"Whoever is the first to help the commander-in-chief mount his horse will be rewarded with a thousand silver dollars!"

As soon as he finished speaking, hardly anyone moved.

Of the three thousand men, only a handful were his original subordinates from Taonan; the rest were opportunists.

They stood there, looking at each other, none of them daring to move.

They did indeed defect to Zang Shiyi, but they did so under the guise of the Young Marshal.

The young marshal himself was standing right in front of them, his eyes coldly staring at them. Who would be so foolish as to go up and tie up their own marshal?

"A bunch of cowards!"

Seeing this, Zhang Haipeng became furious and snatched a rifle from a nearby soldier. Just as he was about to step forward himself, he heard a voice.

"Boss, I told you before, why waste your breath on this kind of beast?"

The voice came from below the earthen slope behind Zhang Xueliang, unhurried and carrying a chilling aura, like the wind blowing from an ice cellar in the dead of winter, sending shivers down one's spine.

Zhang Haipeng's movements froze instantly.

He stared wide-eyed at the figure that slowly rose behind Zhang Xueliang.

Zhang Xueming! He's actually back!

At this moment, Zhang Xueming was wearing a dark gray combat uniform without any markings, with a black leather overcoat over it, and his leather boots made a crunching sound as they stepped on the frozen ground.

He was holding a pistol, the muzzle still hanging down, not raised, but his eyes were already locked on Zhang Haipeng, as if looking at a dead man.

Zhang Haipeng almost dropped the rifle from his hand.

When he saw Zhang Xueliang, he only felt guilty, but when he saw Zhang Xueming, he felt a chill run down his spine, and an overwhelming fear spread throughout his body.

Everyone in Fengtian City knew about Zhang Xueming's methods.

The heads of the overseas Chinese who were executed at the gate of Fengtian are still hanging on the gate for public display, dried out and resembling a string of wrinkled cured meat.

He's standing right in front of me now, holding a gun.

"Second...Second Commander..."

Zhang Haipeng's voice sounded like someone was choking him, "Let me explain... I was forced into it... It's all that old bastard Zang Shiyi's fault..."

"Bang!"

Gunshots.

A perfectly round bullet hole exploded right in the center of Zhang Haipeng's forehead.

His mouth was still open, still in the shape of his lips as he spoke, but the sound was now stuck in his throat forever.

His body swayed stiffly twice before he fell backward, crashing onto the frozen ground with a dull thud.

His eyes were still open, his pupils dilating rapidly. Before his last shred of consciousness faded, a thought flashed through his mind.

He served in the army for most of his life. Although he wasn't a towering hero, he was still a man of honor.

He guarded that harsh and cold place of Taonan for seven whole years; even if he didn't achieve anything great, he certainly put in a lot of hard work.

How did I end up on this path? How could I have been so bewitched as to listen to Zang Shiyi's words?

The benefits the Japanese promised him—the promised ministerial position in Manchukuo, the promised riches and honors—have all turned into the bullet hole between his eyebrows, gushing blood.

If he had known he would die, if he had known he would die by Zhang Xueming's gun, he would never have become a traitor.

Unfortunately, there's no going back.

His pupils dilated completely, and the lingering fear and resentment froze on his distorted face.

The gunshot had faded, but the echo still reverberated in the air.

The three thousand guards brought by Zhang Haipeng stood frozen in place, as if they had been frozen in place by a spell, and remained completely silent.

Sudden--

"He killed the commander!"

A voice roared from the crowd, filled with a tearing rage, "Brothers, avenge the Commander!"

Dozens of people simultaneously raised their guns, all pointing them at Zhang Xueming on the earthen slope.

Some were pulling the bolt, while others were aiming.

Zhang Xueming didn't even blink.

Behind him, on the ridge of the earthen slope, countless gun muzzles rose silently, like ghosts.

Then they quickly deployed and surrounded the entire Fengtian City garrison.

An entire infantry division, totaling over eight thousand men, appeared as if they had sprung up from the ground, forming a semi-circular encirclement on the earthen slope behind Zhang Xueming.

This is a new force that Zhang Xueming summoned from the system.

In order to completely eliminate these traitors in Fengtian City, he spent 8,000 points to pull out this standard suicide squad from the system.

Those former Taonan soldiers who were about to rush forward to avenge Zhang Haipeng stopped in their tracks upon seeing this scene.

They held their guns, pointing them in Zhang Xueming's direction, but their fingers just couldn't pull the triggers.

Before them was not Zhang Xueliang alone, but a full eight thousand fully armed, menacing soldiers, with heavy machine guns pointed at their chests.

The garrison completely collapsed.

Those soldiers who had hesitated just moments before about whether to tie up Zhang Xueliang were now throwing their guns away faster than anyone else.

The sounds of guns being discarded echoed across the dirt road, some soldiers even taking off their ammunition pouches and throwing them on the ground, afraid of showing any sign of non-cooperation.

In less than three minutes, the entire group of three thousand people knelt on the ground, their hands covering their heads, trembling.

They were originally a motley crew, mostly thugs temporarily recruited from the streets and conscripted men.

Following Zhang Haipeng to make a living is fine, but if you ask them to fight a regular army, they wouldn't dare even if they had ten lives.

Those dozens of former subordinates from Taonan fared even worse.

Before they could react, the guards behind them swarmed forward and pinned them to the ground.

Those "comrades" who were bowing and scraping to them yesterday, serving them tea and water, are now forcing them to bang their heads against the frozen ground, making a loud thud.

They were afraid that they wouldn't be ruthless enough and that their new master would doubt their loyalty.

Zhang Xueming's eyes were cold as he pointed to the former Taonan troops who were bound hand and foot on the ground and said two words expressionlessly.

"Kill him."

The gunshots rang out again, crisp and swift.

After dozens of gunshots, Zhang Haipeng's last remaining confidants also followed him in death.

Zhang Xueming holstered his pistol, stepped over the still slightly twitching corpses on the ground, and walked towards the north gate of Fengtian City.

Behind them, eight thousand newly summoned troops followed in orderly steps.

After taking a few steps, he stopped and looked back at the guard prisoners who were still kneeling on the ground, trembling.

"Take away their guns and put them in a labor camp."

"After the war, he worked on repairing city walls, digging irrigation ditches, and building barracks for three years before being released without charge."

"Anyone who slacks off or runs away will be executed without exception."

After he finished speaking, he turned around, his gaze passing over the low northern city wall of Fengtian City and landing on the cluster of gray-tiled mansions in the city center.

Zang Mansion.

Zhang Xueming narrowed his eyes, his gaze filled with boundless killing intent.

"Let's go, brother. It's time to settle the score with those beasts from the Zang family."