Stealing the Credit, Is That It?

The words had barely left his mouth.

The din of tens of thousands of people inside and outside the Purple Gold Pavilion vanished in an instant.

Everyone froze.

The student clutching President Duan by the collar let go.

He stared blankly at the little radio, his lips moving, but not a word came out.

"Good!"

Someone shouted first.

"Well said!"

"General Zhang Xueming is a real man!"

After a brief silence came a storm of cheers.

The students' faces flushed with excitement. Their anger and despair from moments ago were swept away, replaced by an almost delirious exhilaration and a feeling of triumph.

"Our army finally has real men willing to step forward!"

"Down with the White Bear! Reclaim Ulan!"

The slogans rang out again, but this time they were no longer aimed at the officials inside the Purple Gold Pavilion. They were for the general far away, a man they had never met, who had now become a hero in everyone's eyes.

President Duan straightened his collar, which had been pulled askew, smoothed his robe, and rose unhurriedly.

He cleared his throat, wearing an expression that said everything was under control.

"Students, you see?"

"I gave the order long ago for General Zhang Xueming of Fengtian to lead his troops beyond the pass and reclaim our lost territory."

"Matters of state have their proper procedures. What sort of conduct is it to storm the cabinet like this?"

His words instantly dampened the heated atmosphere.

The students looked at one another.

The student representative who had led the charge was the first to react.

He stepped forward, pointed at President Duan's nose, and let loose.

"Duan, have you no shame?"

"Everyone in the country knows Fengtian is Marshal Zhang's territory, and that his Feng Army only takes orders from the Zhangs. Since when does the Northern Prefecture cabinet get to give them orders?"

"You old geezer, you saw General Zhang take the initiative and now you want to snatch the fruit and steal the credit, is that it?"

"Pah!"

He spat out the words in a rapid-fire barrage, without sparing President Duan a shred of face.

President Duan's cheek twitched. The words had clearly left him speechless.

He wanted to argue, but what the student said was common knowledge.

The feud between the Northern Prefecture and the Fengtian clique was no secret.

If he insisted he could give Zhang Xueming orders, he would be treating everyone present like fools.

Just as the students' tempers seemed ready to flare again, a calm yet powerful voice cut in.

"Everyone, please hear me out."

The crowd parted, and a man in a Zhongshan Suit walked in.

At the sight of him, many of the students recognized him.

"It's Mr. Zhang Boling!"

"Mr. Zhang is here too!"

Zhang Boling bowed slightly to President Duan in greeting, then turned to the agitated students.

"Students, there may have been some impropriety in Mister President's words. But is that what we should be arguing about right now?"

His voice was not loud, yet it had the power to quiet the crowd.

"What matters most right now?"

"General Zhang Xueming and his Eighth Brigade have already set out for the border. They're going to fight the ferocious White Bear!"

"They are our brave warriors, the Great Wall of our nation!"

Zhang Boling pointed toward the northern sky, his tone solemn.

"Our soldiers are shedding blood on the front lines. Are we in the rear really going to squabble over who gave the order and let them lose heart?"

"If they fight with their blood and sweat, only to hear that chaos reigns in the capital behind them, what will they think?"

His words poured over everyone like a bucket of cold water, bringing them back to their senses.

That was right.

Now was not the time to assign blame.

General Zhang had already sent his troops out.

They should not be quarreling with the government here. They should be figuring out how to support the front lines.

Zhang Boling looked at the students, who had fallen silent, and continued:

"What we should do is make sure everyone in Huaxia knows of General Zhang's great deed!"

"We must spread the word about him! We must support him!"

"Those with money should give money; those with strength should lend their strength!"

He raised his arm, and the crowd's fervor flared up again—but now it was headed in an entirely new direction.

"Let's organize at once and raise funds for the Eighth Brigade! Medicine, winter clothes, canned food—whatever the front lines need, we'll send it!"

"I propose we also form a 'front-line support delegation,' carrying the good wishes of the whole nation to Ulan and the battlefield, where we can personally cheer on our soldiers!"

"Good!"

"Mr. Zhang is right!"

"I'm going! Count me in!"

The students' enthusiasm burst forth, and the whole crowd was swept up in it.

The atmosphere, which had been on the verge of violence, turned in an instant into a patriotic rally.

Standing off to the side, President Duan watched Zhang Boling resolve the crisis in just a few words and steer things in a direction favorable to the government. He quietly breathed a sigh of relief and gave him a grateful look.

Watching the dramatic turn of events, Liu Weiguo's defiant expression softened somewhat.

He snorted, which amounted to accepting the outcome.

Meanwhile.

On the Ulan grasslands, a thousand miles away.

Beneath the boundless sky, a steel dragon rolled onward.

Hundreds of trucks and armored vehicles kicked up clouds of dust, their engines roaring and tearing through the grassland's silence.