Chapter 279: A Big Gift
When the door of the ward was gently closed by the last officer, the tangible killing intent gathered from dozens of senior generals was also isolated outside.
The ward, which had just seemed overcrowded, instantly became spacious and quiet.
Su Yaoyang leaned on the soft pillow and slowly closed his eyes.
After the resoluteness and ruthlessness when issuing the revenge order faded, what replaced it was a deeper, icy fear and anger.
It could be said that this attack had woken him up.
As a modern man from a peaceful era, although he had grown accustomed to the brutality of war after arriving in this time and space, deep in his subconscious, he still held a trace of the “sense of rules” belonging to modern civilization toward “war.”
But reality had ruthlessly slapped him across the face.
In his mind, that moment kept flashing back… the sharp whistle of bullets tearing through the air, the resolute look in the guard’s eyes as he lunged toward him, and then the bloody mess exploding across his entire back after being hit by the bullet.
Japanese… such despicable, vile, and utterly shameless opponents would use every means imaginable—or unimaginable—to take your life. Assassination, bribery, using civilians… in their eyes, no morality or righteousness existed.
Fighting such enemies required the utmost caution. Any slightest negligence could lead to eternal damnation.
“You bastard… are you really trying to scare me to death?”
A familiar voice tinged with sobs and anger rang in his ear. A warm, soft hand gently touched his forehead, testing the temperature.
Su Yaoyang opened his eyes and saw Song Mei’s pretty face, a mix of lingering fear, heartache, and playful anger.
She was wearing a clean white dean’s coat, her plump, mature body curves particularly alluring under the fitted uniform, especially now as she cried like a pear blossom in rain, making her all the more pitiable.
“Young master… are you okay? Eat… eat some fruit…”
Another timid voice came, as Xiao Lu approached with a white porcelain plate, on which were apples she had peeled with a small knife and cut into small pieces.
Tear stains still lingered on her delicate little face, her big eyes swollen red like a rabbit’s, and her hands holding the plate trembled slightly.
This aunt, who had grown up with him since childhood as a maid, was clearly frightened.
Looking at these two tear-streaked faces before him, filled with worry for him, a warm current surged in Su Yaoyang’s heart, but following it was a chilling question.
What if… what if I really died today?
What would happen to Song Mei? What would happen to Xiao Lu? What fate would befall them?
He suddenly realized with crystal clarity a problem he had deliberately ignored in daily life… the Shanxi Militia, this powerful force he had single-handedly built, was far too dependent on him!
Success from this, ruin from this.
Because of him, because of that magical matter converter, the militia could possess weapons and equipment that crushed the era, endless logistical supplies, and attract talents like Pi Ruoyu and Li Gaoyuan. He held god-like absolute control over this force.
But precisely because of this, once this “god” was gone, the entire system would collapse in the shortest time.
Pi Ruoyu had talent, Li Gaoyuan could fight, but who could conjure tanks and cannons out of thin air? Who could make all the arrogant soldiers submit wholeheartedly?
At that time, internal power struggles, external forces nibbling away… this elite force that made the Japanese tremble in fear would likely turn to dust in history instantly.
Although he clearly realized this fatal problem, he sadly discovered that he… had no solution for it.
This was a dead knot.
A military group built on personal worship and supernatural abilities had unstable foundations from the start.
To solve it, unless he could find another transmigrator or make the matter converter’s secret public—both impossible.
But he quickly figured it out.
Since this problem couldn’t be solved, the only option was… to ensure he never fell.
“I’m fine.”
Su Yaoyang reached out, one hand grasping Song Mei’s warm, soft palm, the other taking a piece of apple from the plate and putting it in his mouth. “Don’t worry, a few Japanese scum can’t kill me.”
…………
Under the doctors’ and nurses’ careful care, the wound on Su Yaoyang’s head recovered quickly.
Three days later, Song Mei personally removed the thick bandages that made him look like a rice dumpling, leaving only a small scar on his temple covered with gauze, reminding everyone of the thrilling assassination a few days ago.
After removing the bandages, Song Mei, in her dual capacity as field hospital dean and Su’s wife, issued an order.
“From today on, you stay home obediently!
Rest for at least half a month; until the wound fully heals, you’re not allowed back at the command post for any official business!”
However, the days of recuperating at home weren’t so hard to bear.
Song Mei and Xiao Lu seemed to have planned it, temporarily setting aside hospital and household work—one no longer patrolling wards, the other no longer going to work—devoting themselves fully to accompanying him every day.
In the mornings, the three ate breakfast prepared by Xiao Lu in the sunlit courtyard.
In the mornings… Song Mei would accompany him on walks in the back garden, breathing fresh air.
In the afternoons… it was leisurely time for reading and newspapers, with Xiao Lu quietly sitting nearby, brewing a pot of good tea for him.
In the evenings… the three played a threesome, days passing very leisurely.
This warm and serene little life gradually soothed Su Yaoyang’s heart, which had become tense and violent from the assassination.
It felt like a fierce tiger licking its wounds on the battlefield had returned to its safest den, gently soothed by its closest companions.
However, these leisurely days didn’t last long.
This afternoon, as Su Yaoyang lay on the rattan chair in the courtyard enjoying the rare afternoon sun, a guard came to report that several “distinguished guests” had arrived.
Su Yaoyang went to the living room somewhat puzzled, and upon seeing the visitors, he was greatly surprised.
In the main seat of the living room sat a middle-aged general in a crisp military uniform, thin-faced but with eyes sharp as a hawk.
Though he just sat there quietly, the aura of a veteran battlefield commander in a high position made the entire living room feel somewhat oppressive.
The visitor was none other than the Deputy Chief of Staff of the National Government’s Military Affairs Commission, the second-in-command of the Gui Clique warlord faction, “Little Zhuge” Bai Chongxi!
“Healthy Duke… why have you come?”
Su Yaoyang hurried forward and saluted in surprise.
Behind Bai Chongxi stood several equally capable aide-de-camp attendants.
Bai Chongxi looked up at him, seeing that though he still had a scar on his forehead, his spirit was hale and he moved freely. A flash of relief passed in his eyes, but he said grumpily, “Could I not come? If I didn’t, your Shanxi Militia would probably change name and ownership!”
He picked up the teacup for a sip, then continued in a tone that seemed displeased but was actually full of concern: “Do you know what your assassination news has turned into out there?
In Chongqing, some newspapers directly published your obituary, saying you were assassinated by the Japanese!
Those guys in the Military and Political Department smelled blood and pounced; old He Jingzhi has already drafted a report, planning to send people to ‘take over’ your Shanxi Militia and then ‘reorganize’ it!”
Bai Chongxi paused, his tone softening a bit: “De Lin found out and was so anxious he couldn’t sleep for days. If I hadn’t stopped him, he might have come personally to Wutaixian to check if you were dead or alive!”
Hearing this, a wave of warmth and guilt surged in Su Yaoyang’s heart.
He scratched his head somewhat embarrassedly: “Sigh… I never thought this minor matter of mine would alarm Virtuous Duke and Healthy Duke, making you two commanders worry. Yaoyang feels truly apologetic.”
Bai Chongxi waved his hand, signaling Su Yaoyang to sit, his sharp eyes fixed on him as if seeing right through him.
“Spare the pleasantries. You and I are soldiers; let’s get to business.”
He picked up the fresh tea Xiao Lu had just served but didn’t drink, instead gently skimming the foam with the lid. “Tell me honestly, what exactly happened with this assassination? The intelligence I received is all over the place, but all say you suffered heavy losses.”
Su Yaoyang took a deep breath and recounted the entire incident to Bai Chongxi without omission—from Liang Shaobin’s betrayal, to the “Chrysanthemum Agency” agents’ ambush, to his guards’ desperate resistance.
He didn’t exaggerate his own peril or dramatize the guards’ sacrifices, just stating the facts in a nearly cold, calm tone.
Yet, the calmer it was, the more Bai Chongxi felt the suppressed raging fury beneath.
After listening, Bai Chongxi was silent for a moment, then heavily set the teacup on the table with a thud.
“What a Xiao Tsukasa Yoshio! What a Chrysanthemum Agency! The Japanese truly harbor murderous intent toward us!” He snorted coldly, then asked, “So how do you plan to handle this? Just let it go?”
“Let it go?”
Su Yaoyang laughed, but the smile held no warmth, only icy killing intent. “Healthy Duke, I’m no big shot, Su Yaoyang, but I’m no soft persimmon to be pinched. He, Xiao Tsukasa Yoshio, dared to touch me, so I’ll shatter every tooth in his mouth!”
With that, he no longer concealed it and laid out the large-scale sea-air-land integrated revenge plan he had already ordered Pi Ruoyu to formulate, targeting the entire Japanese First Army in Shanxi, especially its capital Taiyuan.
As Su Yaoyang spoke, Bai Chongxi’s expression shifted from grave, to surprised, to shocked, finally becoming a complex mix of excitement and caution.
After Su Yaoyang finished outlining the plan’s framework, Bai Chongxi didn’t respond immediately but stood and walked to the huge Shanxi military map on the wall, hands behind his back, silent for a long time.
Just as Su Yaoyang thought he would oppose this overly risky plan, Bai Chongxi suddenly turned, tapping several points on the map with his finger.
“Your plan has great ambition and resolve. But there are a few flaws; if not addressed, they’ll cause big trouble.”
He bluntly pointed out, “First, setting the main attack on Taiyuan’s front gives the Japanese maximum pressure but directly hits their strongest fortress cluster.
Second, though your air force is elite, it’s only for bombing, without considering seizing air superiority in the theater or providing sustained fire support coordination for ground troops.
Third, your armored troops’ penetration routes are too optimistic, ignoring Shanxi’s complex terrain and possible Japanese anti-tank traps…”
The name “Little Zhuge” was well-deserved. After hearing it once, he precisely identified the key oversights in Pi Ruoyu’s hastily formulated plan.
A few words made Su Yaoyang feel why the old are still the spiciest; he stepped forward humbly: “Healthy Duke speaks truly; Yaoyang is enlightened!”
Looking at this big shot who left a resounding name in Chinese military history, a bold idea arose in Su Yaoyang’s mind.
“Healthy Duke!”
Su Yaoyang’s tone became extremely sincere. “Yaoyang has an presumptuous request.
This revenge operation is set in stone and must proceed.
Though my forces are strong, we lack a commander who can strategize from the tent and win battles from afar.
I earnestly request Healthy Duke to condescend to stay and serve as deputy overall commander for this operation, commanding alongside me, and personally revise the operational plan for us!”
At these words, the air in the entire living room seemed to freeze.
Bai Chongxi whipped his head around, eyes flashing sharply, staring fixedly at Su Yaoyang.
Admittedly, Su Yaoyang had hit his itch spot.
Such an opportunity was the dream of any general in today’s China! This was no mere battle, but a classic case worthy of world military history!
Bai Chongxi’s heart pounded uncontrollably.
His military mind instantly activated fully; countless tactical concepts of infiltration, detours, air-ground coordination that he had only dared imagine before—thwarted by the National Army’s weakness—now swirled in his mind.
He weighed it repeatedly, balancing military value and political risk. Ultimately, the soldier’s thirst for the art of war overrode all concerns.
He slowly extended his hand and gripped Su Yaoyang’s tightly.
“Good!”
Bai Chongxi’s voice was hoarse with excitement: “I’ll take this deputy overall commander! Let’s together give Xiao Tsukasa Yoshio a grand gift!”
