Sending Heads, I'll Go Too

Fengtian, Japanese Consulate.

The air was thick with a suffocating atmosphere, and even the winter sunlight outside the window felt chilling.

Sato Kenichi strode into Yamada Ichiro's office, snapped to attention, and bowed his head.

"The special army exercise conducted in Liaoyang on New Year's Day has lost contact," Sato Kenichi's voice was dry, and he kept his head down, not daring to look at his superior's expression. "One hundred and thirty Imperial warriors are unaccounted for. The only survivor is Colonel Matsui Shigeki, who was found by nearby expatriates, but..."

He paused, seemingly searching for the right words.

"But what?" Yamada Ichiro finally turned around, his sharp gaze making Sato Kenichi feel an inexplicable pressure.

"He's severely wounded, very... serious. He's been sent to the hospital in Lushun. Whether he'll survive, the doctors say it's up to fate."

Sato Kenichi added, "According to Colonel Matsui's intermittent descriptions, they encountered indiscriminate artillery fire, a saturation strike."

"Indiscriminate artillery fire?" Yamada Ichiro's lips curled into a sarcastic arc. "On Feng Army territory, besides that old fox Zhang Yuting, whose cannons could be so accurate, so ruthless?"

"Hai!" Sato Kenichi lowered his head even further. "The General Staff's order is... to publicly claim that the shells used in the exercise had quality issues and detonated prematurely. They require us to exercise restraint and avoid any conflict with the Feng Army for the time being."

"Quality issues? Premature detonation?"

Yamada Ichiro walked behind his desk and sat down, slowly lighting a cigar. Amidst the swirling smoke, his expression was inscrutable.

"What a convenient excuse. It saves the Army Ministry's face and gives us people cleaning up the mess outside a way to save face."

"They're telling us that we have to swallow this loss, no matter how bitter."

Sato Kenichi dared not reply.

He knew that this incident, calling it "trying to steal a chicken but losing the rice" was an understatement. It was like sticking their face out to be slapped hard, and then smiling and saying it was a good hit.

"What about that Chu Shixin, how are the investigations going?" Yamada Ichiro exhaled a smoke ring.

"He's the head of Zhang Yuting's artillery forces, a complete madman," Sato Kenichi quickly replied. "It's said that in his early days at the Military Academy, he nearly crippled a Japanese instructor because they didn't get along. He's been in charge of Zhang Yuting's artillery units all these years, spending a fortune to buy cannons from various countries, training his troops rigorously, and his methods are... extremely unorthodox."

"Unorthodox?" Yamada Ichiro chuckled. "Methods that can send a full contingent of our elite observation group to meet Amaterasu Omikami are unorthodox? These are top-tier methods!"

"Our intelligence department was too arrogant. They always thought the Feng Army was still the same rabble carrying Old Barrels."

Yamada Ichiro's gaze swept past Sato, looking out at the bustling Fengtian City.

"Times have changed, Sato-kun."

"Zhang Yuting's claws have been sharpened enough."

Fengtian, Marshal's Mansion, Great Green House.

The heating in the building was turned up high, but the atmosphere was colder than the icy landscape outside.

Zhang Yuting sat upright in the main seat, idly playing with two shiny walnuts in his hand, his face as dark as water.

Before him, his youngest son, Zhang Xueming, stood ramrod straight, his neck stiff, his handsome face filled with stubbornness.

Beside him, his eldest son, Zhang Xueliang, looked anxious, wanting to persuade but not knowing where to start.

"Say that again to your father?" Zhang Yuting finally spoke, his walnut-rolling motion not stopping, but every word was squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Father! I say, Ulan Province must send troops!" Zhang Xueming did not back down, his voice firm and powerful. "Those princes and living Buddhas, their brains have been kicked by a donkey, to dare declare independence! If they didn't have White Bear backing them, they wouldn't dare even if you gave them ten times the courage!"

"If we don't intervene today, this land will be completely lost!"

"Lost?" Zhang Yuting sneered. "That place is nothing but sand and rocks, poorer than a beggar. It's windy all year round, and the winters can freeze people to death. If I send troops there, how much money will it cost for food, drink, and everything else? To turn against the White Bear for such a barren land, your brain has truly been kicked by a donkey!"

"That's still our land!" Zhang Xueming's temper flared. "Land passed down from our ancestors, not an inch can be lost! If we lose Ulan today, will we not be able to hold Rehe tomorrow? It's like boiling a frog in warm water; by the time we react, our doorstep will be blocked!"

"You know nothing!" Zhang Yuting slammed the walnuts in his hand onto the table, making a dull "crack." "War is fought with money and men! This little bit of foundation I've painstakingly saved is not for you to throw away!"

"Father, what Xueming says is not entirely unreasonable." Zhang Xueliang quickly stepped forward to mediate. "The geographical location of Ulan Province is indeed important; it's a barrier to our north. We can send people to negotiate first and assess the situation..."

"Negotiate? What is there to negotiate with a bunch of traitors who are determined to sell their ancestors for glory?" Zhang Xueming directly interrupted his brother. "The only way is to fight! Beat them until they're in pain, until they're scared, then they'll know who their daddy is!"