Fengtian, the Great Green House.
Smash!
A delicate famille rose teacup was hurled to the floor, shattering into pieces.
"I'll say it again: this marriage alliance with the Yu Family is happening whether you want it or not!" Zhang Yuting's chest heaved as he pointed at his son's nose, so furious his mustache bristled.
The young man standing before him was his eldest legitimate son, Zhang Xueliang.
Zhang Xueliang wore a sharply tailored suit, his hair combed to perfection. Facing his father's thunderous rage, he merely craned his neck, his face full of stubborn defiance.
"Father! What era is this? You're still trying to arrange marriages?"
"I don't want to marry her! I don't like her! I'll decide my own marriage!"
"Bullshit!" Zhang Yuting picked up another teacup, thought better of throwing it, and slammed it down on the table. "You'll decide? What gives you the right? Without me, Zhang Yuting, what would you be? The whole of Fengtian is watching our Zhang Family. Have you thought about how many ties a marriage alliance with the Yu Family could strengthen?"
"All I know is that I won't let my happiness become a bargaining chip!" Zhang Xueliang refused to back down.
The father and son were like two fighting bulls, neither willing to lower his head.
Nearby, Fifth Concubine, dressed in an exquisite Qipao, silently refilled Zhang Yuting's tea. She kept her eyes lowered, but inwardly she was muttering to herself.
The Marshal was always so strict with the Eldest Young Master.
Yet he was much more lenient with the Second Young Master, Zhang Xueming, who was a wastrel all day long. The Marshal cursed him harshly, but it was always thunder with little rain—he raised his hand high, then let it fall lightly.
In the end, he still favored the younger one.
Just as the tension reached a boiling point, hurried footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door.
"Marshal! Marshal! We have trouble!"
Adjutant Zhao Zhong stumbled in, nearly crawling, his face deathly pale and sweat pouring down his forehead.
Zhang Yuting furrowed his brows as a foreboding feeling welled up inside him.
Zhao Zhong knew him inside and out and was usually steady. If he was this panicked, something earth-shattering must have happened.
"What are you panicking for? Has the sky fallen?" Zhang Yuting barked.
"Marshal... It's worse than the sky falling!" Zhao Zhong panted, practically shouting through tears. "The Japanese... the Japanese have made a move!"
"What?" Zhang Yuting shot to his feet, knocking his chair backward.
"The Japanese garrison near Niuzhuang suddenly mobilized. Their forces... their forces have increased by at least one regiment! Judging by their direction, they're headed for our provincial capital, Fengtian!"
Boom!
The news froze the air in the entire room.
The stubborn defiance on Zhang Xueliang's face was instantly replaced by shock.
Fifth Concubine was so frightened that her face went pale, and she nearly dropped the tea tray in her hands.
"Those damned Japanese!" Zhang Yuting's fury blazed to its peak. He slammed his fist on the table, making the teacups clatter. "What do they think they're doing? Do they really think I'm made of mud?"
"Pass down my orders! Mobilize the First Division and Third Division. Put them on combat alert at once! Let them try making a move—I'll make sure not one of them gets back alive!"
Zhang Yuting's eyes were bloodshot, his whole body radiating the Killing Intent of a veteran of countless battles.
He could put up with the Japanese taking economic advantage, but he would never tolerate them pointing guns and cannons at his doorstep!
"Marshal, you mustn't!"
Seeing this, Zhao Zhong hurriedly grabbed Zhang Yuting's arm, nearly dropping to his knees in desperation.
"Marshal, please calm down! If we go to war now, we're not prepared. That's exactly what the Japanese want!"
"Not prepared?" Zhang Yuting shook him off. "I've spent half my life fighting wars. Do I need to prepare? They're bullying me right to my face, and I'm supposed to hide like a turtle?"
"No, Marshal!" Zhao Zhong was so anxious that sweat poured from his forehead, his words rattling off like firecrackers. "There's... there might be some misunderstanding!"
"A misunderstanding?" Zhang Yuting froze.
"There's a rumor going around that the Japanese didn't mobilize their troops to go to war with us this time. They're... they're looking for something!"
"Looking for something?" Zhang Yuting was even more confused. "What would they need an entire regiment to find? Did their Emperor go missing?"
Zhao Zhong swallowed, glanced cautiously at the Marshal's expression, and lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Marshal... The South Manchuria Railway... has been torn up."
"What the hell?" Zhang Yuting thought he'd misheard.
"Ten whole kilometers of track between Anshan and Liaoyang have been dismantled—not even the sleepers were spared. They carried everything away!"
Zhang Yuting's eyes instantly went round as copper bells.
The South Manchuria Railway?
That was the Japanese lifeline!
Who could be so bold as to tear up their railway? That was practically a knife in the Kwantung Army's lung!
"Who did it? Have they got a death wish?"
Zhao Zhong's expression turned indescribably strange. He leaned close to Zhang Yuting's ear and spoke in a voice barely louder than a mosquito's buzz. "Marshal... according to what our people heard from the White Bear Country... it seems..."
"Who? Spit it out!"
"It... it was the Second Young Master."
Zhang Yuting's expression froze.
He stood there stunned for a dozen seconds, his mind completely blank.
"Who? Zhang Xueming? My no-good son?"
"Yes... it was the Second Young Master." Zhao Zhong nodded, steeling himself. "He sold all the railway tracks he tore up to the White Bear Country and exchanged them for... for Silver Dollars."
"And... and he pulled off a trick, getting something for nothing. He talked the White Bear Country into paying for the labor and transportation, claiming it was an advance on the costs... In the end, he didn't spend a single cent and made a huge profit."