Chapter 274: Deal
Su Yaoyang leisurely leaned on the sofa, looking at the two military bigwigs opposite him who were usually majestic and imposing but now excited like they had won the lottery; his heart held no great waves, instead exceptionally calm.
Giving roses to others leaves a lingering fragrance on one’s hand.
Of course, he was no bleeding-heart do-gooder.
The reason for making this decision, leaving such a massive batch of excellent equipment including heavy weapons at a near half-price “second-hand” rate to the Fifth War Zone, was after deep consideration.
He knew very well in his heart that now was the most difficult and darkest time of the entire War of Resistance.
And the Fifth War Zone, as the core war zone guarding the great southwest rear area and directly facing the main Japanese forces, its importance went without saying.
But the Fifth War Zone’s foundation was truly too thin.
Except for a few Central Army direct lineages, most troops were “miscellaneous brand armies” composed of various local forces, with equipment all over the place and logistics supplies stretched thin.
As the leading big brother of the Fifth War Zone, Li Zongren, who came from the Guangxi warlord clique, was notoriously poor.
Although the Guangxi Army as their foundation was brave and good at fighting, weapons and equipment had always been a major problem, often with several people sharing one old Hanyang-made rifle.
In the original history, they used such rudimentary equipment, relying on flesh and blood, to block the Japanese forces armed to the teeth time and again in Taierzhuang, Suizao, and Yichang, paying an extremely heavy price.
And now, he had come to this time and space.
He was no longer that weak traverser who had just crossed over, needing to be cautious and step by step, meticulously calculating even for a bit of supplies.
Possessing the heaven-defying golden finger of the material converter, along with a stable Shanxi base and a elite troop initially taking shape, he already had preliminary self-preservation ability, even the capital to stir up winds and clouds.
Since that was the case, what was wrong with appropriately helping these friendly forces who were truly resisting Japan and close to him?
This was not just simple aid.
Arming the Fifth War Zone was equivalent to nailing a harder, sharper nail for the Japanese in the middle Yangtze River reaches.
The longer the Fifth War Zone held out for one more day, the less pressure on his Shanxi base.
The more Japanese soldiers the Fifth War Zone eliminated, the fewer enemies he would face in the future.
This “investment,” from a strategic perspective, was a sure win with no loss.
What’s more, what kind of people were Li Zongren and Bai Chongxi?
They were the leaders of the Guangxi clique, heavyweights with significant influence in the National Government.
The favor given today could exchange for things far more precious than this steel and gunpowder in the future.
Therefore, Su Yaoyang’s face always carried that faint, breezy smile.
In his view, this was just a mutually beneficial transaction, a win-win layout.
He gave the other side the much-needed power, and the other side would become his most solid ally on the future chessboard.
What kind of people were Li Zongren and Bai Chongxi?
They were feudal lords who had killed their way out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood in the great dyeing vat of the Republic of China with its ever-changing fortunes, old foxes who had floated in the official sea for most of their lives.
Su Yaoyang’s lame excuse of “insufficient transport capacity,” they wouldn’t believe even a punctuation mark of it.
They had it crystal clear in their hearts: this was simply Su Yaoyang clearing out and dumping the active excellent weapons of his troops to them like a big sale.
Although they couldn’t figure out why Su Yaoyang was doing this, the heavy, pure goodwill behind it they felt immediately, as real as a branding iron on their hearts.
Facing such a huge favor from a friend, they naturally wouldn’t pretentiously refuse.
Having floated in the official sea for most of their lives, they had long understood a truth: favors owed sometimes hold more value than real gold and silver.
Appropriately owing a favor, especially from a young man with unlimited potential like Su Yaoyang, was absolutely not a bad thing.
What’s more, the “favor’s” attached goods were thousands of trucks, hundreds of heavy guns, and tens of thousands of excellent rifles!
These weapons could instantly boost the combat power of their poorly equipped Guangxi clique troops under their command by several levels!
At this moment of national peril, anything that could strengthen the anti-Japanese forces was ten thousand times more important than so-called face!
Having figured this out, Bai Chongxi was the first to calm down from his excitement.
He stood up again, walked to Su Yaoyang’s side, solemnly extended his hand, and forcefully patted the young man’s shoulder.
This action was full of strength and full of gratitude.
“Mingxi!”
Bai Chongxi’s voice returned to its usual steadiness, but the emotion contained within was even deeper than before, “Your good intentions, De Lin and I accept them. From now on, De Lin and I both owe you a favor.”
He said no extra words, but all the meaning had already been expressed thoroughly through that forceful pat and solemn promise.
Su Yaoyang felt the force transmitted to his shoulder, also smiled, his smile sincere and open: “All for resisting Japan, as long as we can kill more Japanese, this is nothing.”
Li Zongren at the side also slowly nodded. He picked up the teacup on the table, used tea in place of wine, toasted virtually toward Su Yaoyang, then drank it all in one go.
“They say great kindness goes without thanks.”
He put down the teacup, looking at Su Yaoyang with eyes full of the appreciation and closeness of an elder toward an outstanding junior, “Your good intentions, Jian Sheng and I have noted.
If there’s anything in the future that needs us two old men to help with, just say it. As long as it’s within our power, we certainly won’t refuse.”
…………
The night passed without incident.
When Wuta County was still shrouded in the last tranquility before dawn, the encampment of the Shanxi Militia outside the city had already awakened first.
The edge of the sun had just peeked out from behind the eastern mountains, casting a touch of golden light on the earth, dispelling the morning mist.
Captain Liang Shaobin of the Shanxi Militia Logistics Department had already finished his morning exercise.
He wore a pair of faded military shorts and a fitted army green T-shirt, outlining the solid and well-proportioned muscle lines from years of exercise. A pair of rubber shoes stained with morning dew on his feet showed he had just completed a not-short distance.
Sweat soaked his forehead hair, sliding down his cheeks, his breathing even and powerful.
He did not head straight back to camp, but instead turned familiarly into an unremarkable alley south of Wuta County.
Deep in the alley, a small breakfast shop had already raised wisps of cooking smoke, the aroma of noodle soup and charcoal fire mixed, especially enticing in this chilly morning.
The shop owner was a man in his thirties, with an honest appearance, always wearing a friendly smile on his face.
He was busy kneading dough, and upon seeing Liang Shaobin, immediately grinned, greeting him enthusiastically in heavily accented Mandarin.
“Captain Liang, you’re here! The usual today?”
Liang Shaobin wiped sweat with the towel around his neck, shook his head, and answered in a loud voice:
“No… today I want to change it up. Give me two bowls of daoxiang noodles, large bowls, extra meat sauce.
Also three donkey meat huoshao, grilled a bit crispier. Oh right, and two tea eggs.”
The boss’s honest smile didn’t change at all, just a faint glint flashed in his eyes, unnoticeable; he swiftly grabbed the dough while joking: “Yo… Captain Liang has such a good appetite today? So much stuff, can you eat it all alone?”
“If I can’t finish it, no problem.”
Liang Shaobin waved his hand nonchalantly, “I’ll take it back, save it for lunch.”
“Got it!”
The boss nodded, no more words. His hands moved extremely nimbly, picking up a special tile-shaped knife, wrist flipping, pieces of dough thick in the middle and thin on the sides, shaped like willow leaves, leaping precisely into the boiling pot like flying fish entering water.
On the other side, he clamped out golden crispy huoshao from the stove, split them open, stuffed full of richly sauced donkey meat, aroma overflowing.
Soon, two bowls of steaming hot daoxiang noodles, three crispy fragrant huoshao, and two dark brown tea eggs were ready. The boss didn’t use bowls, but took an exquisite bamboo food box, layered all the food neatly, and handed it to Liang Shaobin.
“Captain Liang, take it. Bring the box back tomorrow when you jog.”
“Mm.”
Liang Shaobin nodded, casually pulled a stack of crumpled legal tender from his shorts pocket, slapped it on the counter without counting, then picked up the food box and turned to leave.
“Take care, sir!” the boss called out enthusiastically.
The entire process, from conversation to transaction, whether in speech, behavior, or facial expressions, seemed utterly natural, just like any ordinary morning, everyday interaction between a regular customer and the shopkeeper, with nothing noteworthy at all.
But in the instant Liang Shaobin turned to leave and the boss lowered his head to collect the stack of legal tender on the counter, his fingers tapped lightly on the stack in a specific, highly rhythmic way several times.
And Liang Shaobin, already at the alley mouth, had his steps pause almost imperceptibly for half a second, as if responding to that silent signal.
After Liang Shaobin left, the boss called the shop assistant and clutched his stomach, leaving the stove.
He hurried to the backyard, pushed open an unremarkable door, moved a wooden rack to reveal a hidden door, and after pushing open the hidden door, went through a small passage to a spacious secret room.
This secret room was brightly lit, with dozens of men dressed in ordinary civilian clothes inside the room; some were meditating with eyes closed, some snoring away.
Seeing the boss enter, a man in his forties frowned: “Fujino-kun, what happened outside?”
The boss held up a note in his hand: “Our undercover sent intelligence: that China war ghost will lead the main force back tomorrow.
If you want to act, you need to speed up.”
“Banzai… he’s finally coming!” The man brightened at this, then showed a ferocious look, “Since he’s back, enjoy the last moments well!”
