Let Them Open Their Eyes

Zhang Yuting held the thin telegram paper, looking at it again and again, his fingers trembling.

He suddenly raised his head, slapped the telegram paper onto the table, and it made a loud noise.

"Hahahaha! Good! Good! Good!"

He threw his head back and laughed, his laughter shaking dust from the rafters.

"You truly are my Zhang Yuting's son!"

"Guards!" he waved his hand grandly, full of spirit, "Relay my orders! All resting troops, depart immediately! Advance to Ulan! Secure that territory for me!"

He then looked at Wu Junsheng beside him.

"And you! Go tell those bastards at the Middle East Railway, if they want to talk, have their masters come to Fengtian personally!"

Meanwhile, outside Kulun City, a thousand miles away.

The smoke of war had not yet completely dissipated, and the wreckage of destroyed armored vehicles lay scattered on the grassland like the corpses of monsters.

Some bold prairie wolves were gnawing on the bodies of the Russian soldiers, left behind, from a distance.

Zhang Xueming sat on an ammunition box, holding a large enamel bowl, slurping down steaming hot stewed beef and potatoes.

Ma Xiufeng, covered in dust, strode over and sat down opposite him.

"Commander, you're back."

Zhang Xueming, without looking up, picked up another bowl from the side and handed it to him.

"How far did you chase them?"

Ma Xiufeng took the bowl and grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth.

"Reporting, Commander, if they ran a few dozen more kilometers, I could have gone to Lake Baikal and washed my feet!"

"Enough fuel?" Zhang Xueming raised an eyebrow.

"Enough! How could it not be enough!" Ma Xiufeng took a big gulp of the meat soup, saying indistinctly, "The Russian armored vehicles are our mobile gas stations! We chased them, and siphoned fuel from their destroyed vehicles as we went!"

As they were talking, Zhang Xueming's third uncle, Dai Xiansheng, walked over quickly.

"Xueming, something's come up."

"Third Uncle, sit down and tell me," Zhang Xueming pointed to an empty ammunition box beside him.

Dai Xiansheng waved his hand, his expression a little strange.

"A delegation from inland has arrived, claiming to be a spontaneous civilian organization, and they're already outside the defense zone. I figured since the battle just ended, I didn't let them get too close, but what do you think about meeting them?"

"A delegation?" Zhang Xueming was a little surprised, "Coming here at this time? Aren't they afraid of dying? Who's leading them?"

"The founder of Jinmen University, Mr. Zhang Boling. A great scholar of our time, highly respected," Dai Xiansheng said. "He's brought his students, traveled a long way with sincere intentions, and it wouldn't be right to just turn them away."

"Zhang Boling?"

Zhang Xueming put down his bowl, his eyes lighting up.

"Alright, let them come, I'll meet them."

Twenty minutes later.

A strange procession appeared before the Eighth Brigade's camp.

Some were in cars, some on horseback, and some even pushing wheelbarrows.

Most of the group were young people in student attire, their faces weathered and tired, but their eyes were exceptionally bright.

Leading them was a scholar in a long gown, wearing round-rimmed glasses, none other than Zhang Boling.

As soon as he saw Zhang Xueming in his military uniform, he strode forward and excitedly grasped his hand.

"Brigadier General Zhang! You are Brigadier General Zhang Xueming?!"

The gentleman's hands trembled violently, and his eyes were red.

"Pillar of the nation! This battle you fought has brought glory to Huaxia after a hundred years!"

Zhang Xueming felt a little embarrassed by his enthusiasm and quickly said humbly, "Mr. Zhang is too kind, I am unworthy, I merely did my duty as a soldier."

He looked at Zhang Boling, contemplating how to bring up the matter of founding a university.

Zhang Boling, however, held onto him and turned to point at the students behind him, speaking passionately, "Brigadier General Zhang! We are not just here to offer condolences! We are here to join the fight! These students, and myself, are all willing to serve the country! We will not return until the White Bear is driven out of our territory!"

"Yes! Enlist! Fight the White Bear!"

"Brigadier General Zhang, take us in!"

The students were filled with righteous indignation, puffing out their chests and shouting loudly.

Zhang Xueming looked at this group of passionate youths, then at the resolute Zhang Boling, and suddenly smiled.

He slowly picked up the kettle handed to him by a guard, took a sip of water, and then spoke.

"Mr. Zhang, esteemed students, I appreciate your patriotic hearts, Xueming accepts them."

He paused, looking around at the faces filled with anticipation.

"But... I'm afraid you're a little late."

"Late?" Zhang Boling was stunned. "What do you mean?"

Zhang Xueming grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.

"It means the war ended three days ago."

"The White Bear Far East Armored Army, along with their Commander, has been completely annihilated by my forces."

"Not a single one escaped."

As Zhang Xueming's words fell, the entire camp fell into an eerie silence.

The only sound left in the air was the crackling of the bonfire.

Mr. Zhang Boling's hand, which he was holding out, froze.

The group of students behind him, their faces filled with passion and fervor, also froze, their expressions growing increasingly incredulous.

Completely annihilated?

Not a single one escaped?

What... what kind of joke was this?

That was the White Bear's Far East Armored Army!

An elite force of over ten thousand men! Equipped with the most advanced steel monsters of this era!

And you're saying you finished them off in three days? Completely annihilated them?

"Brigadier General Zhang."

A clear voice, tinged with a hint of coldness, broke the silence.