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

The Japanese positions were in complete chaos.

The survivors scattered in all directions. Some ran north and ran into the Fengtian Army rushing from the east, while others ran south and stepped on bullets fired from the west.

No one organized a defensive line, no one gave orders, and even Kawashima Masashi himself had drawn his sword and joined the melee.

His saber cleaved open the chest of a Fengtian soldier, and before he could withdraw it, another bayonet pierced his shoulder blade.

He grunted and with a backhand slash, sliced ​​off half of the Fengtian Army soldier's hand, but as blood spurted out, a third bayonet pierced his abdomen.

He looked down at the tip of the knife protruding from his stomach, with a piece of yellow cloth from his military uniform still hanging on it.

He opened his mouth to shout "Long live His Majesty the Emperor," but only a stream of foamy blood came out of his mouth.

Finally, his legs gave way and he knelt on the ground. The military knife slipped from his loosened fingers, the tip of the blade embedded in the soil, and the blade was still trembling slightly.

The battle ended in less than fifteen minutes.

The sorghum field was turned into an open-air slaughterhouse.

One hundred and eighty Japanese soldiers, not one of them escaped.

The corpses lay scattered across the sorghum field, some lying face up with their eyes staring at the sky.

Some were lying on the ground, their hands still in the position of crawling forward.

Some were several people piled together, making it impossible to tell whose arm or whose leg it was.

Blood seeped from beneath the pile of corpses, slowly flowing along cracks in the frozen soil, forming dark red streams.

The fishy smell was so strong that even the northwest wind couldn't dispel it; it was mixed with the smell of gunpowder smoke and gunpowder residue, making people want to vomit.

All four Type 92 infantry guns were captured, their bodies riddled with bullet holes.

Dozens of Type 38 rifles and two Type 96 machine guns were picked up from the pile of corpses by Northeast Army soldiers and piled together, with ammunition boxes stacked next to them, like a small mountain.

Lieutenant Zhao Zhenfan stood at the edge of the sorghum field, looking at the scene of corpses strewn across the land, a trace of lingering fear still lingering in his eyes.

He had fought tough battles, personally killing no fewer than ten enemies during the Zhili-Fengtian War, but he had never killed so many Japanese soldiers in one night.

An entire squadron, 180 men, were wiped out in this sorghum field within fifteen minutes.

He turned his head, looked at Wang Yizhe who was cleaning his gun, and after a long pause, finally managed to squeeze out a complete sentence:

"Commander, we've killed so many Japanese soldiers. What if they turn against us and things escalate? Won't our superiors blame us?"

Wang Yizhe put down his pistol, took out a neatly folded telegram from his pocket, and slapped it directly onto Zhao Zhenfan's chest.

"have a look."

Zhao Zhenfan took the telegram and unfolded it.

The text printed by the telegraph machine was somewhat blurred, but every line of text was still clear.

"...If the Japanese invaders attack, we will immediately and resolutely fight back, not yielding an inch of land, and defend Beidaying to the death...This order is issued by Zhang Xueliang."

"See that? This is the commander-in-chief's order."

Wang Yizhe pointed to a few words on the telegram with his finger: "The commander-in-chief told us not to waste any words and to take action immediately."

"See? We're just following orders."

He put the telegram back in his pocket and patted his chest.

"Who dares to blame me? Who has the right to blame me? I have the commander-in-chief's order in my hands. This battle will be fought fairly and squarely."

"Even if you complain to the Military Commission or the League of Nations, I'm not afraid."

Zhao Zhenfan looked at Wang Yizhe for a long while, then slowly nodded.

"Alright, stop standing there."

Wang Yizhe put the Mauser pistol back into its case, waved his hand, and said, "Quickly clean up the battlefield and take everything usable back to the camp."

"The bodies should be burned on the spot, and the area must be cleaned up before dawn."

He looked up at the direction of the Kwantung Army headquarters, his gaze darkening.

"The Japanese devils won't let this go. If a company dies today, a regiment will come tomorrow."

"I killed someone's dog, they won't just let it go."

Zhao Zhenfan stood at attention and saluted, then turned to direct the soldiers to clean up the battlefield. As he walked, he shouted:

"Hurry! Tow the cannon back! Load all the shells onto the truck!"

Wang Yizhe stood at the edge of the sorghum field, taking one last look at the land soaked in blood.

The moon was already setting in the west, and its cool light shone on the corpses that hadn't yet been carried away, making the expressions on their faces exceptionally clear.

Wang Yizhe stared at the corpse's face for three seconds, then turned around and strode towards the North Camp.

"Messenger!"

"arrive!"

"Send telegrams immediately to Beiping, to Fengtian, to Nanjing, and to the whole country!"

His voice was strong and clear: "The telegram is as follows: The 4th Company of the 2nd Independent Garrison Battalion of the Japanese Kwantung Army launched an armed attack on our positions at Beidaying at 22:30 tonight without declaring war."

"Our Independent 7th Brigade, following orders from higher command, resolutely retaliated."

"After fierce fighting, 180 enemy soldiers were annihilated, and four infantry guns and a number of guns and ammunition were captured."

"The Japanese pirates' wolfish ambitions and their intention to invade our Northeast territory are now crystal clear."

"All officers and soldiers of the Northeast Army swear to fight the Japanese invaders to the bitter end! We hope that our compatriots across the country will unite in hatred against the enemy and jointly resist foreign aggression! Wang Yizhe, Commander of the Independent 7th Brigade."

The messenger scribbled quickly, his pencil scratching rapidly across the paper.

"Send it out."

Wang Yizhe waved his hand, "Not a single word is allowed to be changed."

........

After the telegram was sent from the Beidaying radio station, it spread throughout Fengtian in less than half an hour, and then from Fengtian to Jinzhou, Changchun, Harbin, Beiping, Tianjin and Nanjing.

Telegraph operators in various cities were rapidly copying the telegram, with paper tapes pouring out of the receivers like a waterfall.

Upon receiving the telegram, Liu Duoquan, the commander of the Fengtian city defense, did not wait for further instructions from his superiors and directly ordered the Public Security Corps to open the armory and distribute all the stored rifles and ammunition to the police and militia in the city.

The city gates were closed, sandbags were piled up on the city walls, and machine guns were mounted on the city towers.

All Japanese expatriates in Fengtian City were brought under control, the consulate was surrounded, and the telephone lines were cut.

Zhang Tingshu, commander of the 12th Independent Brigade in Jinzhou, was asleep when he received the telegram. After reading it, he threw off the covers, stepped barefoot onto the cold floor tiles, and shouted towards the door:

"All troops assemble! Forced march! Towards Fengtian!"

In less than an hour, all three thousand officers and soldiers of the Independent Twelfth Brigade had lined up on the parade ground, with rifles on their shoulders, bullets at their waists, and bayonets gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

In Changchun, Zhang Zuozhou, commander of the 25th Independent Brigade, immediately dispatched troops to surround the Jilin Provincial Military Headquarters upon receiving the telegram.

Chief of Staff Xi Qia had just been dragged out of bed and hadn't even had a chance to ask what had happened when a rifle butt smashed into the back of his head, knocking him to the ground.

Zhang Zuozhou stepped on Xi Qia's back, pressing his fat face firmly into the brick floor, and coldly said:

"By order of the commander-in-chief, arrest the traitor Xi Qia who colluded with the enemy."

Xi Qia's screams echoed through the corridors of the Jilin Provincial Military Headquarters, but no one came to his rescue.

All of his trusted confidants, whom he had placed in the military headquarters, were arrested at the same time, without missing a single one.

Zhang Zuozhou interrogated Xi Qia overnight, and the screams from the interrogation room lasted for the entire night.

The moment the telegram arrived in Fengtian, Liu Duoquan, the commander of the Fengtian city defense, ordered his messengers to quickly copy the telegram and post it on the bulletin boards of the four city gates of Fengtian.

In the early hours of the morning, the city gate was crowded with people. Some held torches, some carried lanterns, and those who could read read to those who couldn't. Each sentence was met with a burst of voices from the crowd.

"Annihilate all 180 invading enemy soldiers!"

"Four infantry guns captured!"

"We swear to fight the Japanese pirates to the bitter end!"

Some people threw their hats into the air, while others raised their arms and shouted:

"Well played!"

An old man with a white beard stood in the crowd, leaning on a cane. Two lines of tears streamed down his cloudy old eyes. He wiped the tears with his sleeve and muttered in a trembling voice:

"If the old marshal is watching from heaven, look, look, the young marshal has finally stood up for himself!"