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

The Nationalist officer paused for a moment, then glanced at his watch: "It's almost dark now, and the provincial government offices have already closed for the day."

The first mate shrugged, looking helpless. "Then we'll just have to wait until tomorrow. Anyway, our ship arrived ahead of schedule, and the original plan was to unload the cargo tomorrow."

The Nationalist army officers were used to being arrogant, and their instincts were to swear.

But seeing the arrogant attitude of these foreigners, he ultimately said nothing and turned to disembark.

He stood on the dock, looking up at the cargo ship quietly moored on the water in the twilight, the Stars and Stripes fluttering gently in the evening breeze.

He had a vague feeling of unease, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong.

Oh well, the ship has already arrived, and the cargo is on board. We can unload it tomorrow, it's the same thing.

The night is getting darker.

Outside Ningde City, the Red Army soldiers who had been wielding sickles in the rice paddies during the day had now put down their sickles and picked up their guns.

Under the cover of darkness, one team after another silently converged and assembled.

Strangely, Ningde City was calm and peaceful that night, with no unusual occurrences except for the occasional barking of dogs.

The following afternoon, in the meeting room on the second floor of HSBC Bank in Fuzhou.

The reception room was small, but it was very well-maintained.

Two leather sofas were placed opposite each other, with a low table in between, on which sat a set of white porcelain teaware.

Mayer leaned back on the sofa, legs crossed, in a relaxed posture, revealing the unmistakable behavior of a spoiled brat.

Sitting opposite him was a middle-aged man in a dark blue Zhongshan suit, his hair was neatly combed, his collar was buttoned up tightly, and his face had the fair complexion that someone who sits in an office all year round had.

"Director Guo, you're not even forty yet? To hold such a high position in the finances of a province at such a young age, your future is truly limitless."

Director Guo waved his hand and smiled politely: "Haha, how can I compare to Mr. Mayer's youth and talent?"

"I'm forty years old by the traditional Chinese age reckoning. Next month, on the fifteenth, will be my fortieth birthday. Mr. Mair must grace my humble abode with his presence then, so that we may also bask in the glory of this foreign gentleman."

"Definitely, definitely, I'll share in the good fortune too." Mayer replied with a smile, thinking to himself: With this matter coming up, the loss of over a million dollars, you'll be either shot or dismissed.

If you still have the ability to celebrate your birthday, I, Mayier, am willing to call you a hero.

Just then, the door to the reception room was gently pushed open. A middle-aged man in a dark gray suit walked in.

He held a telegram in his hand, walked leisurely to the low table, stood down, and gave a slight bow.

"Mr. Guo, Mr. Mair."

Director Guo looked up, his gaze falling on the man's face: "Mr. Robert, are the formalities complete?"

Robert nodded and gently placed the telegram on the low table: "It has been confirmed in Shanghai that the Fujian Provincial Government's payment has been fully transferred to the account designated by Mr. Mayer. This is a copy of the telegraphic transfer voucher; please take a look."

Director Guo reached for the telegram, quickly scanned it, and then turned to look at Mayer:

"Now that the payment has been settled, Mr. Mayer, could you please inform Ningde to arrange for unloading? The Nationalist soldiers are waiting for this batch of new equipment."

Mayer put down his teacup, stood up, and straightened his suit collar. "Of course. From this moment on, this shipment belongs to you. I'll send a telegram to Ningde right away to arrange for its release."

He picked up the copy of the telegram, glanced at it again, then folded it and put it in his suit pocket, extending his hand to Director Guo:

"Mr. Guo, it's getting late. I have an appointment with the daughter of the French ambassador to see a movie, so I'll have to excuse myself for now."

Director Guo stood up, shook hands with him, and shook his head with a smile: "Young man, it's understandable that you need to take care of your personal life while you're busy with your career."

Mayer nodded to Robert, then turned and left the meeting room.

Director Guo watched his figure disappear through the door, then picked up the now-cold tea and took a sip.

He turned to look at Robert beside him, his tone slightly mocking: "Are all you foreigners this direct in your dealings? You finish the business and leave without any formalities."

Robert shrugged. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do. We know a little about Chinese etiquette, but... he's still quite young."

Inside the division headquarters, Wu Chengren was changing clothes behind a screen.

He took off his crisp general's uniform and draped it over the back of the chair, then changed into a drab, gray soldier's uniform.

Her collar was buttoned up tightly. She stood in front of the mirror, examined herself, and then reached out to ruffle her hair a little.

"Commander, why are you doing this?" Adjutant Zhao Wenrui frowned. "This batch of munitions is certainly important, but if you're worried, you can just let me go and keep an eye on it. Why go yourself? There are Red Army troops everywhere outside the city; it's too dangerous."

Wu Chengren didn't turn around, and while tying his cloth belt, he said, "Seeing is believing, hearing is deceiving. Brother, don't you have any idea what kind of people we have under our command? Do you think I can manage without keeping an eye on them?"

He turned around and patted his adjutant on the shoulder: "It's alright. We'll bring a battalion from the east of the city. We'll blend into the crowd; he'll be just a lowly soldier, nobody will recognize him."

Zhao Wenrui opened his mouth, but ultimately swallowed his words and turned to arrange manpower.

Outside the city, deep in a dense forest.

The soldiers of the Mindong Independent Division had been lying in wait for most of the day, without moving an inch.

Ye Fei squatted behind an old camphor tree, clutching his pocket watch, glancing at it every now and then. His gaze remained fixed on the dirt road leading to the port outside the woods.

A light footstep echoed through the woods. A young man wearing a tattered shirt and a straw hat emerged from the bushes.

"Political Commissar!" he called out in a low voice.

Ye Fei immediately went over: "How is it?"

"Look closely, the cargo ship has docked and they're unloading it. There are quite a few people on the dock, including Nationalist soldiers and civilians; I estimate there are several hundred of them. Weapon crates are piled up all over the ground in front of the warehouse."

Ye Fei nodded, then turned and waved to the several regimental commanders behind him. The men gathered around and squatted in a circle.

"When the time is right, act immediately. Be ruthless and swift. Avoid firing bullets at the ammunition boxes; don't blow up the cargo."

Regiment Commander Liu Tiezhu chuckled: "Political Commissar, don't worry. This time we've picked veterans. We're experienced in robbing arms; we wouldn't even bother hitting ammunition boxes with our eyes closed."

Ye Fei glared at him: "Close your eyes? Open them wide! If this shipment explodes, I'll hold you responsible."

Liu Tiezhu quickly stopped laughing and nodded seriously: "Yes! I guarantee I will complete the mission."

Everyone nodded in unison and then hunched over and dispersed.

At another hidden location, Zhou Zeyuan was also conducting a similar mobilization with the men of the Minbei Independent Division.

Either we don't fight, or we fight to the death; once the gunfire starts, it's a general offensive.

At the port, Wu Chengren had already arrived at the dock with his adjutant and several divisional clerks.