Chapter 110

Zhang Chu'an: "Extra! Extra! Congratulations to both Standing Committee members on liberating all of Mongolia! The people of Shandong have sent their congratulations."

Zhang Xiaofan: "Congratulations to both Standing Committee members on liberating all of Mongolia! The people of Hebei have sent their congratulations."

Guo Jing: "Enough with the congratulations. I’ve got something to tell you: during our liberation of Mongolia, we didn’t see Genghis Khan, and the Naiman people didn’t see him either. He’s probably fled to the Jin or to Western Xia. Keep an eye out in Jin territory."

Zhang Xiaofan: "Don’t worry—we hold high positions and wield real power in the Great Jin. Crown Prince Wanyan Hongxi listens to every word we say. Several major cities in Hebei are nominally under Jin control, but in reality, we hold them tightly. If Genghis Khan shows his face, we’ll kill him."

Guo Jing: "Really? Then it seems you’ve built your revolutionary base in Jin territory very well."

Zhang Chu'an: "Naturally. Zhang Xiaofan has built several large factories in these cities—steel mills, cement plants, fertilizer plants, textile mills. These cities already have the shape of modernization. Our trade unions and peasant associations have exploded in size over this period, now totaling about five to six hundred thousand members."

Guo Jing: "That many? If your trade unions and peasant associations already have that many members, you must be able to mobilize at least five million people."

Guo Jing, seeing this, couldn’t help but sigh—how rich and populous the Jin territory was. In contrast, after years of fighting, they had conquered the entire Mongolian Plateau but only had one hundred thousand members.

Meanwhile, Zhang Chu’an and Zhang Xiaofan had quietly grown to fifty thousand without saying a word. But Guo Jing understood the reason for this gap: besides Zhang Chu’an and Zhang Xiaofan’s superior strategy, it was simply the difference in population between the two regions.

The Mongolian Plateau, this vast land, was poor in resources and harsh in natural conditions. The herders here depended entirely on capricious weather. In years of good rain and sunshine, they barely scraped by; when disaster struck, their lives collapsed instantly. This extreme instability prevented any significant population growth, keeping the total barely around one million.

In contrast, the regions controlled by the Jin—North China, Guanzhong, and the Central Plains—were a different world entirely. These lands were fertile, rich in resources, and had favorable climates, providing excellent conditions for survival and reproduction. Thus, the Jin’s total population had surpassed fifty million, making it one of the great population powers of the age.

Guo Jing: "With so many trade union and peasant association members, how many credits do you have?"

Each proletarian is worth fifty credits; fifty thousand members equal twenty-five million credits—not counting other events. For example, eliminating the Kiyat tribe earned us one million credits directly from the system; unifying the Mongolian Plateau earned another two million.

Establishing bases, resolving ethnic tensions, building factories, planting potatoes and sweet potatoes in the desert—all these added up to about twelve million credits. Guo Jing believed Zhang Chu’an’s bonus credits could only be more, not less.

After all, this guy built modern factories and laid the foundation for industrialization—how could his credits be anything less? Conservatively, he had at least sixty million credits.

Zhang Chu'an: "Actually, not that much. Lately I’ve been re-equipping our troops—giving each squad a light machine gun, and adding artillery battalions to every regiment. You know what 107 rocket launchers are like—they eat up ammunition."

Nie Huaishang and Guo Jing were speechless. How could a 107 rocket launcher not eat ammunition? It had a maximum range of 8.5 kilometers and could fire a full salvo in seven to nine seconds.

In the Vietnam War, the Viet Cong used four single-barrel and two twelve-tube 107mm rocket launchers to ambush a U.S. base, destroying over seventy attack and bomber aircraft—including B-52s—with 250 rockets, killing or wounding thousands of U.S. troops, and wiping out one U.S. artillery position and a communications center.

In Afghanistan, over two hundred 107mm rocket launchers and their accompanying rockets destroyed numerous Soviet military vehicles and attacked Soviet barracks.

This thing even shot down fighter jets in the 21st century. It wasn’t just powerful and long-ranged—it was insanely portable and easy to fire.

It could be disassembled into four-tube, eight-tube, or even single-launch configurations. Each rocket weighed only 18.8 kilograms and was designed from the start to be carried by a single soldier—perfect size, one man could carry one.

You think that’s all?

It’s also simple to launch and maintain. To fire, you only need a few dry batteries and two wires. Any stable surface will do—a dirt mound, as long as it’s level and roughly the length of the rocket, enough to ensure launch stability.

They couldn’t fathom who on earth had brought this thing—and equipped every regiment with an artillery battalion. Didn’t each regiment get at least twelve 107s? How many regiments do you have?

Zhang Chu'an: "Well, we now have revolutionary bases in Shandong, Hebei, and Henan. Our forces total about three hundred thousand—over a hundred regiments."

Guo Jing and Nie Huaishang were stunned. A hundred regiments meant a hundred artillery battalions—over a thousand 107 rocket launchers. You bastard—we can’t even get machine guns, and you’re already using 107s.

Nie Huaishang: "You’re so rich, you won’t even lend us a thing? Don’t you know we’re fighting every day? A hundred artillery battalions—and not one launcher to spare? You’re hoarding everything. We supplied you with weapons, supplies, and ammunition when you first built your bases!"

Zhang Chu'an: "You never asked, so I assumed you didn’t need any."

Nie Huaishang: "We didn’t know you were this rich! A thousand 107s, and you give every squad a light machine gun—we’re still using Type 56 semi-autos! Give back the horses and livestock we sent you over the years!"

Zhang Chu'an: "Don’t be angry, brothers. I’ll send you twenty artillery battalions tomorrow. The men will travel light; the equipment and ammunition will be sent via the system."

After making this promise, Zhang Chu’an signed off with a pained expression—giving away twenty artillery battalions hurt like hell. He’d spent years building up his reserves, and now he’d given away a fifth of them. How could he possibly face the Jin’s million-strong army—men like tigers, horses like dragons, climbing mountains like apes, diving into rivers like fish, their might like a towering mountain?