Southern guerrilla warfare: I led the Red Seventh Army Corps to amassed a million troops.

Wearing a well-tailored dark gray suit, Mayer moved through the crowd, exchanging greetings with guests from all walks of life.

He had a youthful appearance, spoke fluent English and Mandarin with a slight accent but clear enough, and was well-mannered with a perfectly timed smile.

Wherever he goes, he receives an enthusiastic response.

In a corner of the banquet hall, an elderly gentleman in his fifties was sipping a glass of whiskey and chatting with several local businessmen.

He is Mr. Jason, the U.S. Consul in Fuzhou.

Jansen saw Mayer emerge from the crowd from afar and smiled and waved to him.

Mayer understood and quickly walked over with a glass of champagne in hand.

Jason clinked glasses with him, then lowered his voice and said, "Chairman Chen is over there. I'll take you there to meet him."

Mayer followed Jason through the crowd and came to Chen Yi.

Chen Yi was in his early fifties, dressed in a dark blue Zhongshan suit. He had a lean face, a calm gaze, and the composure characteristic of someone who had long held a high position.

Seeing Jason leading a young man over, he put down his teacup and nodded slightly in greeting.

Jason gave a brief introduction in English, and then Chen Yi extended his hand: "Mr. Mayer, you are young and promising, I have long admired you."

Mayer grasped Chen Yi's hands with both of his, bowed slightly, his posture humble yet confident.

"Chairman Chen, you're too kind. I'm new to Fuzhou and hope you'll take good care of me in the future."

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Mayer seized the opportunity and casually said, "Chairman Chen, I have a business opportunity here. I wonder if you would be interested in hearing about it?"

Chen Yi's gaze sharpened slightly, but his expression remained unchanged: "Please speak."

Mayer put down his glass. "They ordered a batch of American weapons from Southeast Asia, but they backed out halfway through. The goods are almost at the Far East now; we can't just send them back."

"I heard that the Nationalist Army and the Red Army just had a fierce battle, with both sides suffering victories and defeats, and the losses must have been considerable. I wonder if they have any need for American weapons?"

Chen Yi had only intended to go through the motions of polite conversation, but upon hearing the word "arms," ​​his expression became slightly more serious.

He pondered for a moment, "American weapons? Our National Revolutionary Army mainly uses 7.92mm caliber bullets, which are not compatible with the American 7.62mm bullets. This might not be very convenient."

Mayer immediately chimed in, "Chairman Chen's considerations are indeed thorough. However, the goods are already close to the Far East; if we turn them back to the United States now, the losses could be substantial."

"I was thinking that rather than losing money for nothing, it would be better to find a buyer who would actually use it, and we could negotiate the price."

He added casually, "If Chairman Chen is interested, it can be shipped to a port in Fujian and arrive in five days at most."

Chen Yi was about to politely decline when she heard the words "at most five days," and she swallowed the words back.

He quickly calculated in his mind that the armories in Ningde and Fu'an had been bombed not long ago, resulting in heavy losses of ammunition reserves, and the front-line troops were in dire need of help.

Wei Lihuang urged him several times to help procure ammunition, but the provincial government's stockpile was already stretched thin, and they simply couldn't gather enough in a short time.

If this batch of American arms can really be delivered to Fuzhou Port within five days, even if the calibers are not compatible, it will at least solve the immediate problem.

He feigned hesitation for a moment, then pressed on, "What if it's transported to Ningde? The fighting there is fierce, and ammunition losses are high. We urgently need to replenish it."

Without hesitation, Mayer blurted out, "Oh, that's great! It can be delivered in four days. The water depth at Ningde Port is sufficient to accommodate medium-sized cargo ships, and unloading will be convenient."

Chen Yi's brow relaxed slightly. "Alright, Mr. Mayer. As long as you can guarantee timely delivery, our Nationalist government is quite interested in this order. Let our subordinates discuss the specific details."

He raised his glass. "Let's enjoy this dinner tonight. Mr. Mair, congratulations on becoming a director of the trading company."

The two clinked glasses and each took a sip.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Chen Yi was escorted by the other officials to the other side of the banquet hall.

Mayer stood there, watching his figure disappear into the crowd, his smile still polite and gentle.

He looked down at the half-empty champagne glass in his hand, swirled it gently, and the amber liquid shimmered under the light.

Logically speaking, even if the plan is successfully implemented, he can only earn an extra 30% of the deposit.

But Zhou Zeyuan's words moved him. According to this new plan, the money earned from the Kuomintang would be clean money that could be made openly and honestly.

Otherwise, given his current extravagant spending habits, someone with a keen eye would notice sooner or later.

Then his identity as an arms smuggler won't be able to be hidden for long.

On his way back to the Danyang command post from the front lines, Zhou Zeyuan rode a warhorse captured from the Nationalist army, traversing mountains and rivers.

This is a chestnut-colored Mongolian horse. It has a small frame but excellent stamina and a steady gait when it runs.

He rode his horse along the mountain road for more than two hours, and suddenly realized that the road was in much better condition than he remembered.

Part of the road surface was widened, potholes were filled with gravel, and the roadside drainage ditches were re-dug.

He couldn't help but admire Zeng Hongyi in his heart: Zeng Hongyi is indeed quite capable.

Just then, I turned right at an intersection ahead and saw a military post.

Those were rows of barracks built of bricks and stones, with a red flag flying at the entrance, fluttering in the autumn wind.

As a key road connecting the two major areas of the Min-Dong Soviet Area, it was natural to establish a military post here.

They served as both armed guards and stockpiled military supplies to provide for the troops and personnel traveling to and from the area.

A middle-aged man stood at the entrance of the outpost, dressed in a gray military uniform with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, explaining something to a sentry.

That person was none other than Zeng Hongyi, the chief designer of this mountain road.

Zeng Hongyi didn't pay attention at first, but after seeing the face on horseback, he immediately trotted over to meet him.

Zhou Zeyuan dismounted, tossed the reins to Xiao Zhong behind him, and looked Zeng Hongyi up and down, his tone tinged with concern:

"Old Zeng, how have you been lately? You seem to have lost some weight. You need to pay more attention to your diet. Didn't I tell you, it's just a change of position, consider it a bit of training at the grassroots level?"

Zeng Hongyi quickly waved his hand, his smile perfectly balanced—neither overly obsequious nor overly distant.

"No, no. I've been eating well and sleeping soundly lately. I've just been working more at the construction site, and all the extra weight I used to gain from sitting in the office has fallen off. I've lost some weight, but I feel much better."