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

"Did you manage to ask?"

"No, he's a tough nut to crack; he's very stubborn!"

"What...do you want to know...just...ask away..."

The air in the woodshed froze instantly.

Zhang Xueliang's eyes widened, and he suddenly turned to look at Zang Shiyi, who was tied to the armchair.

The Liaoning Provincial Chairman, who had been tortured for twenty minutes and whose body was covered in sore flesh, was using his last bit of strength to lift his head.

In those eyes, blurred by tears, a hint of inexplicable grievance and anger was revealed.

After he finished speaking, he coughed violently, and the saliva he coughed up was tinged with blood, dripping down his chin onto his chest.

Zhang Xueliang turned his head, looked at the Wolf Warrior, and his face showed disbelief.

He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something but swallowed it back, then opened his mouth again and finally managed to utter a sentence.

"You...you didn't ask?"

Wolf Warrior's hand froze in mid-air.

For the first time, embarrassment appeared on that perpetually icy face.

He looked down at the copper skewer still stained with blood and flesh in his hand, then at the dying Zang Shiyi, and his lips twitched.

Just now, all I could think about was how to torture this traitorous dog to vent my anger.

From the moment he tied Zang Shiyi to the armchair, his attention was entirely focused on how to make this traitor feel the greatest pain.

From what angle should the needle be inserted, how deep should it be (in millimeters), which acupoints are most sensitive, and which techniques can maximize the pain?

He rehearsed the entire process in his mind countless times, but forgot the most basic step.

He forgot to ask a question.

Seeing the awkward expression on Zhan Lang's face, Zhang Xueliang remained silent for a moment, then took a deep breath.

Then, he walked up to Zang Shiyi, bent down slightly, and said in a clear voice:

"Zang Shiyi, listen carefully."

"First, a list of all those involved in the rebellion."

"Second, all your channels of communication and secret codes with the Japanese."

"Third, the exact route and timeline of the Kwantung Army's 2nd Division's northward march."

"Speak up, and I'll give you some dignity."

Zang Shiyi was panting heavily, his chest heaving violently.

Suddenly, a glimmer of light appeared in his lifeless eyes.

"You...let me go first..."

"Let me go... I'll tell you... you promised not to kill me..."

He didn't finish his sentence.

The door to the woodshed was kicked open.

The door slammed against the wall with a loud bang, causing the kerosene lamp flame to flicker violently and almost go out.

Zhang Xueming stepped over the threshold, his military boots thumping heavily on the blue brick floor.

He walked up to Zang Shiyi, glanced down at the Liaoning Provincial Chairman who was half-dead from the torture, then looked at Zhan Lang beside him, who looked embarrassed, and his lips curled slightly.

"It seems that wasn't cruel enough just now."

The moment Zang Shiyi saw Zhang Xueming, his body involuntarily trembled.

But he gritted his teeth and squeezed out a few words in his hoarse voice:

"You...you can't kill me...the League of Nations...the League of Nations will punish you...killing prisoners of war...killing prisoners of war is ominous..."

Zhang Xueming ignored him.

He turned his head and said something to Zhanlang.

"Go, catch a few snakes."

"It's hibernation time now, and snakes will crawl into all the warm holes and stuff a few into his crotch."

"Let him know what cruelty is!"

Zang Shiyi's eyes were wide open, as if they were about to pop out of their sockets.

Soon, the guards caught several small blue snakes.

A snake, no more than the thickness of a chopstick, was held in Zhan Lang's hand. It was blue all over, and its scales gleamed with a sticky, dark light under the kerosene lamp.

It had just been dug out of hibernation, and its body still carried the smell of mud and the chill of the earth.

After being pinched by Zhanlang's fingers at its vital spot, the snake's head twisted wildly, its long, thin tongue flicking in and out of the air, making a faint hissing sound.

The snake's tail coiled around Zhanlang's wrist, tightening round and round, but Zhanlang's hand remained as steady as a vise, not moving an inch.

Zhan Lang squatted down in front of Zang Shiyi.

His movements were unhurried; he aimed the snake's head at Zang Shiyi's trouser leg and then loosened his grip by one finger.

The snake's head slithered into the trouser leg.

Zang Shiyi's body stiffened abruptly as if he had been electrocuted, and the four legs of the armchair scraped wildly against the blue brick floor, emitting a piercing screech.

The snake's cold scales brushed against his calf, carrying a chilling, damp scent from its hibernation burrow, and crawled up his calf, along his knee, and over his thigh.

He could feel the snake's body coiling around his legs, a cool, slippery sensation, like a dead man's hand slowly caressing his skin.

"I'll tell you! I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything!"

Zang Shiyi's voice was shrill, "Take the snake away! Please take the snake away! I'll tell you everything! I'll tell you everything!"

Zhang Xueming slightly raised his chin.

Zhan Lang reached out and grabbed the snake's tail, pulling it out of Zang Shiyi's thigh.

The snake's body swung in an arc through the air before being casually tossed into a covered bamboo basket in the corner.

Zang Shiyi slumped in the armchair, panting heavily, his chest heaving like a bellows.

The lingering coolness of the snake crawling through his trousers caused him to twitch every few seconds.

He was genuinely scared.

The torment of the past twenty minutes had left him in agony, but the snake was different. The cold, sticky sensation of it crawling into his crotch was even more unbearable than the pain.

That kind of fear goes straight to humanity's most primal instincts, and cannot be resisted by willpower.

"List...list..."

"Liaoyang... Sun Qichang, the brigade commander of the Liaoyang garrison... He contacted me and said that he would open the city gates as soon as the Imperial Army arrived in Liaoyang..."

"Ma Wenbin, the commander of the Fushun Garrison Regiment... he's my cousin's nephew. I told him to start an uprising, and he did..."

"Zhao Jingshan, the county magistrate of Tieling, Qian, the head of the security regiment... Han Yunjie, the advisor of the Jilin Military Governor's Office, was a spy planted by the Japanese. He was the one who facilitated all the communications with the Kwantung Army..."

"Qiqihar... Cheng Zhiyuan, deputy brigade commander of the Qiqihar Infantry Brigade..."

One name after another rolled out from Zang Shiyi's chapped lips.

Some names were followed by their job titles and troop strength, some by their contact information and secret codes, and some by details of how many yen they had received and what official positions they had been promised.

Zang Shiyi served as an official for twenty years, and his network of connections in the Northeast officialdom was intricate and complex. From provincial governors to county magistrates, from generals to regimental commanders, he knew exactly who was on his side and who was on the Japanese side.

He originally intended to keep this ledger until after the establishment of Manchukuo, to be used for rewarding meritorious service, but now he has poured it all out.

As he spoke, his voice grew softer and hoarseer.

"And...and..."

A faint sound escaped his throat, "And Rong Zhen... Rong Zhen is one of the masterminds..."

"He promised me that he would surrender if the uprising succeeded..."

"He was the chief of staff of the Northeast Army... He had a map of the Northeast Army's troop deployment in the three provinces, and also..."

Zhang Xueming's eyebrows twitched.

Rongzhen.

The chief of staff of the Northeast Army, a veteran of Zhang Zuolin's era, had always felt that this person was suspicious since he transmigrated, but because Rong Zhen was too cautious, he had never been able to find any solid evidence.

Now this name has come out of Zang Shiyi's mouth.

He took the list from Zhan Lang and turned to hand it to Zhang Zuoxiang, who was standing at the door.

Zhang Zuoxiang was rescued from the basement of the provincial government by the "Wolf Warriors" (a group of people known for their aggressive and sometimes disruptive tactics).

After being placed under house arrest for a day and a night, this veteran of the Northeast Army still had dust and mold from the basement on his uniform, his hair was a little messy, and his complexion was not good.

He was tricked by Zang Shiyi into going to the provincial government under the pretext of a "meeting," and then locked in the basement without any water until the Wolf Warriors broke down the basement door.

At this moment, he stood at the door of the woodshed, looking at Zang Shiyi, who was slumped unconscious in the armchair. His old face was expressionless, only a dark anger surging in his eyes.

Zhang Xueming handed the list to him, his tone icy:

"Assistant Commander, I don't want the people on this list to see the sun rise tomorrow."

Zhang Zuoxiang lowered his head, his gaze sweeping across the list.

Rong Zhen, Sun Qichang, Ma Wenbin, Han Yunjie, Cheng Zhiyuan...

He recognized every single one of them. Several of them had shaken hands and exchanged pleasantries with him in his office just a few days ago, patting their chests with righteous indignation and declaring that they would fight the Japanese to the bitter end.

His fingers tightened slightly around the list, and the edges of the paper wrinkled at his fingertips.

"Rest assured, Commander."

His tone carried a murderous edge: "None of them will escape."

Tang Yulin, standing behind Zhang Zuoxiang, also nodded.

The veteran known as "Tang Erhu" looked even more unwell than Zhang Zuoxiang at this moment.

He already had a fiery temper, and being locked up by Zang Shiyi for a day and a night only fueled his pent-up anger. Since coming out of the basement, he had been clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

He gritted his teeth, his voice trembling with suppressed anger:

"Commander, what should we do with that bastard Zang Shiyi?"

When Zang Shiyi heard his name mentioned, he shuddered and struggled to lift his head from the armchair.

He watched Zhang Xueming's retreating figure, his lips trembling, and with his last ounce of strength, he managed to squeeze out a few words:

"Commander... Commander, spare me... I was once an officer in the Northeast Army..."

"I bled for you... I helped you... So, I guess I did some good..."

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

With a sea of ​​blood pressing down in his eyes, Zhang Xueming announced his final fate, word by word.

"Drag him to the gates of Fengtian and execute him by slow slicing!"

"Let all the men, young and old, in Northeast China see this clearly: this is what happens when you're a dog for the Japanese devils, this is what happens when you become a traitor!"