How is it more brilliant?

Gu Ruiyu's clear eyes carried a hint of curiosity as she stepped forward, her voice soft.

"Battalion Commander Zhang, you just said... sorry to Eldest Brother?"

This careless remark snapped Zhang Xueming back to reality.

He looked at the face before him—exquisite and otherworldly—and for a moment, he was lost.

That face bore a faint resemblance to one buried deep in his memory.

But quickly, he reined in his emotions, the dimness in his eyes fleeting, and returned to his usual polite detachment.

"Nothing."

He replied flatly.

"Just remembered an old acquaintance."

Gu Ruiyu wanted to ask more, but was blocked by Zhang Xueming's aura that kept people at arm's length.

She could only lower her head and murmur an "oh," though her mind churned with questions.

What kind of old acquaintance could make a hardened, decisive battlefield officer show such a complicated expression?

The atmosphere grew awkward again.

Just then, Zhang Shoufang swayed in from outside, a smug grin on her face.

"Done!"

She clapped her hands, breaking the silence in the room.

"That old fox Yamada agreed."

"Time: tomorrow, seven in the evening. Place: Fushun Tower."

Zhang Xueming's spirits lifted, and he stood up at once.

"Sister, thanks."

"Don't stand on ceremony with me." Zhang Shoufang shot him a look. "That adjutant of yours, Dai Xiansheng, is still waiting outside, standing there like a Guardian God."

"Then I'll take my leave. There's still work to prepare." Zhang Xueming nodded, then gave Gu Ruiyu a polite nod. "Miss Gu, farewell."

With that, he turned and strode out of Liyuan in long, swift steps.

Gu Ruiyu watched his tall, straight back disappear through the doorway, her gaze lingering long after he was gone, the teacup in her hand nearly cold.

"He's long gone, still staring?"

Zhang Shoufang walked up beside her, nudging her lightly with an elbow, teasing.

"Has my little brother stolen your soul?"

Gu Ruiyu's face flushed bright red, like a ripe apple.

"Sister Fang, you... you're talking nonsense!"

She stomped her foot, turned, and ran backstage, leaving Zhang Shoufang chuckling alone in place.

Fengtian, Marshal's Mansion.

In the study, Feng Army Marshal Zhang Yuting held a telegram, his expression shifting between dark and uncertain.

Standing across from him was the Feng Army Chief of Staff, Zhang Zuoxiang.

"Scoundrel!"

Zhang Yuting slammed the telegram onto the desk with a dull thud.

"That brat is getting more lawless by the day!"

"He won the battle, fine. But why did he have to absorb those bandits? And then scatter them into his own unit? How dare he!"

"If there's a Japanese spy mixed in among them, what happens to his battalion then? This is pure nonsense!"

Zhang Yuting fumed, his beard bristling, looking thoroughly enraged.

But Zhang Zuoxiang remained unruffled. He knew full well that the Marshal was the classic case of a sour mouth but a sweet heart.

The harsher the scolding, the more secretly pleased he probably was.

He leisurely picked up the telegram, studied it carefully, then spoke with a smile.

"Marshal, please calm down first."

"In my view, Xueming's move here isn't nonsense at all—it's quite brilliant."

"Oh?" Zhang Yuting shot him a sidelong glance. "Go on, then. How is it brilliant?"

"Think about it, Marshal." Zhang Zuoxiang pointed at the contents of the telegram. "Xueming scattered all the captives into groups of five, with one of our Old Soldiers as squad leader for each group. That's putting surveillance right on every single man."

"Even if those bandits have second thoughts, under the watch of our veterans, they can't stir up any trouble."

"Besides, these men are desperadoes by nature. In a fight, they'll be far fiercer than ordinary recruits. If used well, they'll be a fine blade!"

"This is what you call the ultimate evolution of 'learn the barbarians' techniques to control the barbarians'—using bandits to fight bandits!"

Zhang Yuting listened, the anger on his face gradually fading, replaced by a barely concealed smugness.

He picked up his teacup and took a sip, but his words still refused to let up.

"Hmph, a whole bunch of twisted nonsense!"

"Still... that kid's mind is indeed sharper than his father's."

Seeing the moment was ripe, Zhang Zuoxiang immediately struck while the iron was hot.

"Marshal, since Xueming has made his name in Hunchun, we need to expand on that victory!"

"What I mean is, make a big show of it!"

"Use every newspaper and radio broadcast—tell them how our Feng Army's Young Marshal, Zhang Xueming, was brilliant and mighty in Hunchun, how many Japanese weapons he seized, how he left the Japanese speechless!"

"This will both give the Japanese a sharp knock, letting them know Fengtian isn't to be trifled with, and boost the morale of our civilians in the Three Eastern Provinces, showing them that as long as the Feng Army is here, the sky won't fall!"

Zhang Yuting's eyes lit up.

This idea was good!

This was exactly the effect he wanted!

Seeing his interest, Zhang Zuoxiang pressed on.

"Besides, Marshal, Xueming is still only a Battalion Commander—his title doesn't carry proper weight."

"For bandit suppression, you need a prestigious name."

"I say, why not just promote him to Brigade Commander! Pull elite troops from various units to form an independent Guard Brigade, dedicated to clearing out the bandit troubles in Jilin and Heilongjiang provinces!"

"Give him the rank of Colonel, grant him full autonomy, and let him go all out!"