Chapter 321: Gotta Pay Up
Su Yaoyang and Commander Chen walked side by side out of the warlord mansion’s gate. The afternoon sunlight shone on their bodies, dispelling the slightly oppressive atmosphere from earlier.
They had just exited the courtyard gate when more than a dozen guards immediately surrounded them, protecting them in the middle while vigilantly watching the surroundings.
It must be known that Taiyuan City had just been captured, and no one knew how many Japanese puppet remnants were hiding inside.
The two arrived on the highway outside. Although the streets had been cleaned, the scars of war were still shocking.
The buildings on both sides of the road were mostly ruined walls and rubble, with walls covered in bullet holes and scorch marks.
Patrol teams from the Jin-Sui Army and carts carrying corpses passed by from time to time. The air was filled with a complex smell of disinfectant, dust, and faint blood.
Even more heartbreaking were the common people carefully walking along the roadside. Most were dressed in rags, sallow and emaciated, their eyes filled with numbness, fear, and a dazed relief at having survived the catastrophe.
An old woman with gray hair, using a tree branch as a crutch, shuffled along, followed by her equally skinny little grandson. The child clutched half a piece of dirty steamed bun tightly in his hand, nervously glancing around, as if afraid someone would suddenly jump out and snatch it.
Looking at the devastated city and the struggling people, both fell into a long silence.
The political maneuvers and calculations with Yan Xishan in the restaurant earlier seemed so pale and insignificant at this moment.
After a long while, Su Yaoyang finally couldn’t hold back and let out a long, soft sigh.
“Rise, the people suffer; fall, the people suffer.”
He looked at the expressionless people passing by, his voice carrying a trace of emotion and sorrow. “Our Chinese people have truly suffered too much!”
This sigh came from the bottom of his heart.
As someone from a peaceful era, he understood the difference between this era and the future more than anyone in this time.
Those in the future who complain about being treated like oxen or horses and vent their anger online every day—if they were really brought to this era, they wouldn’t last a single day.
“There will be such a day.”
Commander Chen’s voice suddenly sounded beside him, his tone without the slightest hesitation.
He turned his head to look at Su Yaoyang, his weather-beaten eyes seeming to burn with a flame.
“As long as we work together to completely drive the Japanese invaders out of our country! As long as our 400 million compatriots can unite as one, think in the same direction, and exert strength together, we will surely build our China into a prosperous, powerful, and beautiful country!
Our people will surely live good days of being well-fed, warmly clothed, and free from bullying!”
His words were not ornate, but they rang with conviction, each word bursting from his chest.
Seeing Commander Chen’s extremely resolute gaze and hearing his words full of ideals and faith, Su Yaoyang’s heart trembled fiercely.
He knew Commander Chen’s background; though not from great wealth, it was still a well-off family.
By his original life trajectory, he could have lived a safe, worry-free life with ample food and clothing. But at thirteen, he resolutely gave up his privileged life, left school to join the army, and threw himself into that deadly revolutionary torrent.
Su Yaoyang asked himself honestly—if it were him, he probably couldn’t have made such a resolute sacrifice of everything for an ideal.
From the Northern Expedition to the Long March, and now to the anti-Japanese battlefield, his life had almost entirely been a struggle for one ideal… that is, to overthrow the three big mountains pressing down on the Chinese people.
They were the true idealists, people who could devote everything to a distant and bright future.
Faced with such a person, Su Yaoyang couldn’t help but feel deep respect from the bottom of his heart.
In view of this, his tone became especially sincere.
“I believe in you; you will surely achieve it!”
He looked deeply at Commander Chen. This statement was both an affirmation of Commander Chen’s personal faith and, as a “person from the future,” a confirmation of historical inevitability.
His gaze swept over the surrounding ruined streets and the numb, dazed faces.
Perhaps the people now, including the steel-willed Commander Chen before him, could never imagine that in just a few decades, on this land scarred by suffering, a nation of what prosperity, wealth, and power would rise again.
That once unattainable “being well-fed and warmly clothed” would become the most basic life assurance.
This cognitive gap across time and space filled Su Yaoyang’s heart with complex emotions.
The two walked silently along the main street for a while, each digesting their earlier emotions. Jin-Sui Army soldiers on the streets stood at attention and saluted when they saw Commander Chen and Su Yaoyang passing by.
At a street corner, Commander Chen suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked at Su Yaoyang with a serious expression.
“Commander Su.”
He no longer talked about ideals but pulled the topic back to the most pressing reality at hand. “Taiyuan is located in the center of Shanxi. It is not just a city but the political and military command center of the entire Shanxi.
The Japanese will absolutely not willingly give up Taiyuan. I dare say they will soon organize a frenzied counterattack.”
He paused, then continued.
“In the current state of the Jin-Sui Army, guarding Taiyuan independently would be very difficult.
At that time, our Commander Yan will definitely ask for aid from you and from our Eighth Route Army. I wonder what you plan to do then?”
This question was more direct and realistic than Yan Xishan’s earlier “mutual aid alliance.”
Su Yaoyang was silent for a moment, as if seriously considering.
He had actually run through several simulations of this question with Pi Ruoyu when deciding to hand Taiyuan over to Yan Xishan.
“I’ve considered this issue.”
He met Commander Chen’s gaze frankly and said slowly, “Taiyuan was something we took back from the Japanese with tremendous effort.
To capture it, we not only expended massive manpower and resources but also sacrificed countless soldiers’ lives. So, no matter what, we absolutely cannot let the Japanese take it back.”
Hearing this, a hint of a smile appeared in Commander Chen’s eyes.
“I’ve thought it over. If Commander Yan really can’t hold out and asks me for aid, I will dispatch our air wing to assist him. Helping Commander Yan share some pressure is good, right?”
He deliberately emphasized the words “air wing.”
This was also an indirect statement of position: I can help, but if you want me to send ground troops again to fill this bottomless pit and act as cannon fodder for the Jin-Sui Army, that’s out of the question.
Immediately after, he added: “But the planes we send out aren’t free…”
Su Yaoyang extended a finger, pointed in the air, and said word by word, “Must… pay… money.”
When he said “must pay money,” he deliberately emphasized his tone.
“Pay money?”
Commander Chen suddenly raised his head, eyes wide, face full of disbelief. He clearly never expected such an extremely mercenary statement to come from Su Yaoyang’s mouth.
In his view, resisting Japan was a matter of national righteousness. Although various forces had their own agendas, talking about money in the common fight against the enemy seemed… too mercenary.
Su Yaoyang, however, acted as if it were perfectly natural and even began counting on his fingers to calculate the costs for Commander Chen.
“Of course, pay money!”
He said righteously, “Commander Chen, you may not know how much it costs to maintain our planes.
Let me put it this way: for one P-40 fighter sortie, just the visible costs of aviation fuel, oil consumption, and ammunition amount to at least 1,200 silver dollars. This doesn’t include engine wear and parts depreciation.”
He glanced at Commander Chen’s stunned expression and continued to add more.
“If it’s a twin-engine B-25 bomber, it’s even more outrageous. One flight dropping a belly full of bombs costs at least four or five thousand silver dollars.
Calculate it: if we dispatch an air wing—sixty fighters escorting a squadron of bombers—for an air battle over Taiyuan, the direct cost for that one mission would head toward 100,000 silver dollars!
And that’s not even counting our airport’s daily operations, wages and food for hundreds of pilots and ground crew, training costs, and so on…”
Su Yaoyang spread his hands with an “I’m in a tough spot” expression.
“Spending so much real gold and silver, it can’t all come out of my pocket, right?
There’s no such reason in the world. Our militia is not wealthy and can’t afford such tossing.”
“This…”
Commander Chen was completely dumbfounded by Su Yaoyang’s “cost accounting” and was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to respond.
Although he hadn’t calculated as precisely as Su Yaoyang, he was worldly and knew well that the air force was an unadulterated money-devouring beast.
He certainly knew Su Yaoyang wasn’t exaggerating or alarmist. Maintaining an air force required astronomical amounts of manpower, resources, and money.
Otherwise, before the war broke out, with China’s national strength at the time—tightening belts—they had barely assembled an air force of over 300 planes, most of which were outdated models with poor performance.
The daily expenses of Su Yaoyang’s large-scale, advanced air wing were unimaginably terrifying.
From the perspective of national righteousness, Su Yaoyang’s demand seemed a bit “unscrupulous.”
But from the perspective of practical interests, his words held a certain “reason.”
Commander Chen fell into deep silence. He found himself increasingly unable to see through this young man before him.
After a long silence, a wry smile suddenly appeared on Commander Chen’s serious face.
“Forget it… forget it.”
He let out a long breath, looking at Su Yaoyang with a complex expression. “Your business dealings with Commander Yan, our Eighth Route Army won’t get involved in.
Our 386th Division achieved notable results in attacking Taiyuan this time, but our own casualties were not small. I need to lead the team back to the base area for rest soon. See you later!”
He no longer dwelled on Su Yaoyang’s shocking commercial theory and simply brushed it aside.
“Take care, sir!” Su Yaoyang also solemnly saluted.
“Take care!”
Commander Chen returned the salute firmly.
After bidding each other farewell, the two walked in different directions.
Commander Chen headed toward several Eighth Route Army cadres waiting for him at the street corner, while Su Yaoyang walked toward a military jeep parked not far away.
The sunset’s afterglow stretched their shadows long on the ruined street.
……
Three days later, dust rolled along the winding dirt road.
The massive Shanxi Militia convoy, after three days of marching, finally returned to their main base… Wutaian County.
There were no welcoming flowers, no thunderous applause.
What greeted them were only the orderly logistics personnel in the base and the hot meals already prepared.
The soldiers jumping down from the trucks were all covered in dust, their faces showing fatigue from the great battle and relief at surviving.
That evening, in the militia’s temporary command post, Su Yaoyang gathered all officers above battalion level.
He did not give any passionate victory speech but directly issued a series of commands that invigorated all the officers.
“Brothers, you’ve worked hard.” Su Yaoyang looked at the tired yet excited faces before him and said calmly, “Starting tomorrow, all units that participated in the Battle of Taiyuan will have half a month off.
Pay will be issued as usual, and in addition, every soldier will receive an extra 30 silver dollars as wartime bonus. Officers will get increases based on rank.”
At these words, suppressed cheers erupted in the conference room.
“For the fallen brothers, raise the pension to 500 silver dollars. It must be personally delivered to their families by dedicated personnel, with no deductions allowed! All wounded brothers will be sent to Dean Song’s field hospital, to receive the best medicine and the best treatment.”
Su Yaoyang stood up and finally announced: “We’ve fought this battle and won it. Now it’s time to rest well. Go back and tell the brothers: for this half month, sleep well and eat well!”
After announcing all this, Su Yaoyang finally returned home escorted by Xu Dadeng and a group of guards.
Song Mei and Little Dew, his two wives, had been waiting at home. After a delightful bath and a sumptuous dinner served by his two wives, the three chatted idly in the room while drinking tea.
But as soon as Little Dew opened her mouth, she dropped a bombshell: “Young master… I have good news for you. Sister Mei is pregnant.”
“What… Sister Mei is pregnant?”
This news instantly jolted Su Yaoyang up from his chair. He rushed to Song Mei’s side and grabbed her arm: “When did this happen? How many months?”
“It’s been over two months already. But you’ve been at the front lines fighting this whole time, so I didn’t tell you, afraid you’d be distracted. Now that the battle is over, I’m telling you.”
