How Can I Apologize to a Chinese Person

Around the corner of the street not far away, Yang Yuting watched quietly.

Behind him stood two guards with solemn expressions.

He took in the tense, sword-drawn scene downstairs, yet a faint, barely perceptible smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

"Commander-in-Chief, the battalion commander... this is too impulsive. If a shot accidentally goes off, I'm afraid..." the guard behind him said with some worry.

Yang Yuting spoke slowly.

"Impulsive?"

"I think it's just right."

A calculating glint flickered in his eyes.

"Sometimes, fists work better than reason. Our Battalion Commander Zhang has taught everyone a lesson today. Let those Japs see that the Feng Army isn't made of mud, and our people aren't pushovers they can bully at will."

"The bigger this gets, the more face the Japanese lose. If they dare make a move, perfect—the Feng Army has been holding in its fire for too long; it's time to let it out."

Yang Yuting saw it as clear as a mirror.

Zhang Xueming's outburst, though seemingly reckless, had slapped the Feng Army's tough stance right in the Japanese army's face.

Not only did he have no intention of stopping it, he was even scheming about how to maximize the benefits from this incident.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps came.

A squad of Japanese soldiers, surrounding a short, stout officer, charged over aggressively.

The man who arrived was none other than Matsui Shigeki.

He took one look at the three piles of bloody flesh on the ground, and his face instantly flushed a purplish red.

"Baka!"

He roared, barking and screaming at the Japanese officer locked in the standoff.

Zhang Xueming couldn't understand the foreign tongue; he just found it grating.

He raised his hand and fired a shot at the stone ground by Matsui Shigeki's feet.

Bang.

Stone chips flew.

Matsui Shigeki flinched in fright, and all his remaining words choked back in his throat.

"Clatter!"

The Feng Army soldiers behind Zhang Xueming followed suit, raising their rifles in unison and firing warning shots into the air.

The uniform gunfire made the entire street hum and ring.

Now it was the Japanese army's turn to be collectively dumbfounded.

When had they ever seen such an arrogant Chinese army?

Matsui Shigeki's face shifted through several colors. He finally realized that these people in front of him meant business.

He took a deep breath, forced down his rage, and shouted in broken Chinese: "Mr. Zhang! You, do you know what you are doing? You are provoking a conflict between our two nations!"

Zhang Xueming picked at his ear, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Don't give me that useless crap."

He pointed his gun at the nearly piss-pants Watanabe reporter nearby.

"If you want to know what happened, ask him."

"Ask your Japanese reporter whether his men struck first, or my men struck first."

Matsui Shigeki's gaze immediately shot toward Watanabe.

Watanabe trembled all over. Under Matsui Shigeki's murderous glare, he stammered through the whole story.

With every word he spoke, Matsui Shigeki's face darkened another shade.

By the time Watanabe finished, he had nothing left to say.

They were in the wrong.

But he couldn't admit it.

How could the Great Imperial Japanese Army apologize to a Chinese man?

His eyes darted around as he tried to smooth things over: "Mr. Zhang, they were just a few farmers. Their lives aren't worth much. To damage the goodwill between our two nations over such a small matter isn't worth it..."

Before he could finish, he felt a chilling aura rush toward him.

Zhang Xueming's gaze was cold enough to freeze a man solid.

"What did you say?"

"Say that again."

"A farmer's life isn't worth much?"

Those few words completely detonated Zhang Xueming.

He whirled around and issued another order to Chu Shixin, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Chu Shixin!"

"I told you to chop him up and feed him to the dogs, so why the hell are you still standing there dumbfounded!"

"Yes, sir!"

Chu Shixin jolted to attention, this time without a shred of hesitation, and roared for his men to find the tools.

Matsui Shigeki was thoroughly enraged; his hand instinctively moved toward the holster at his waist.

"General, no!"

The adjutant beside him clamped down hard on his hand, shaking his head frantically.

If he drew his gun here, none of them in this company would make it out alive today!

Just as the situation hung by a thread, a gentle voice rang out.

"Aiya, gentlemen, gentlemen, let's talk this out—why resort to blades and guns?"

Yang Yuting walked over.

He first shot Zhang Xueming a meaningful glance, then cupped his hands toward Matsui Shigeki with a beaming smile.

"General Matsui, long time no see. I trust you've been well."

Matsui Shigeki's brow furrowed even tighter at the sight of Yang Yuting.

He knew this smiling tiger was far harder to deal with than that hotheaded Zhang Xueming.

"Commander-in-Chief Yang," he said coldly. "This battalion commander of your army is far too overbearing in his conduct!"

"Overbearing?" Yang Yuting countered with a chuckle. "I'd say it was your army's soldiers who broke the rules first. We had an agreement—our Feng Army handles bandit suppression in Nanzhen, and your forces are not to interfere. Yet now, not only have you interfered, but you've also bullied our Chinese civilians. How do you explain that?"

Yang Yuting's tone shifted, turning sharp.

"General Matsui, I don't care what your reasons are. Right now, I demand that your side immediately withdraw all brigades stationed near Nanzhen. Otherwise, if another conflict like this occurs, you'll bear the consequences!"

Matsui Shigeki's pupils abruptly contracted.