Chapter 107: Northeast Arms Factory I

The lights of the Nanjing National Defense Ministry burned through the night, and Li Yuxuan stood before a massive map of the Northeast, his fingertips pressing heavily on the mark for the Shenyang Arsenal. Red pencil lines criss‑crossed the map, sketching the route from the arsenal to Tianjin in dense detail— it was the relocation plan he had drafted overnight, the ink still wet, the paper feeling gritty.

"Notify all units of the Fifth Army: from now on assemble in the Northeast and take over the defenses of Fengtian and Changchun."

He turned to the Adjutant, his military boots thudding steadily on the floor, "Tell the front‑line commander to spare no cost to ensure the arsenal's equipment is safe."

"Yes, Director!" the Adjutant stood at attention and saluted; as he turned, the brim of his cap nearly brushed the doorframe. It was Chairman Li's first use of an emergency order, and the resolve in his tone gave everyone a jolt.

Seven days later, at the arsenal complex outside Fengtian, the roar of machines intertwined with soldiers' commands into a tense symphony. Li Yuxuan, dressed in oil‑stained work clothes, crouched beside a lathe inspecting parts; the cuffs of his military uniform were rolled to the elbows, revealing a fierce scar on his forearm—the mark left by the Battle of Jinan.

"Chairman Li's illustrious presence, Hanqing is at a loss to receive you properly," Zhang Xueliang's voice came from behind, laced with a forced ease. The young commander, now in a crisp suit, twirled a jade smoking pipe in his hand, his eyes betraying an unmistakable anxiety.

Li Yuxuan rose, patting the iron filings from his hand: "Deputy Commander, you're too kind." He gazed at the trucks weaving through the complex, his tone heavy, "Please excuse Jingxing's disrespect; this time we dispatched troops without prior notice because the situation is urgent."

Zhang Xueliang waved his hand, the jade pipe spinning rapidly between his fingers: "What's the matter? Is there new news from Jinling?" Lately he had been receiving reports of Japanese troops reinforcing the South Manchuria Railway, leaving his mind in constant turmoil.

"I fear the Japanese might strike early," Li Yuxuan said in a low voice, his gaze sweeping over the freshly dismantled machine tools in the workshop. "So we have to move the arsenal's equipment to Tianjin first—there we have the air‑raid shelters and workshops we built earlier, which are safer than Fengtian."

The jade pipe in Zhang Xueliang's hand slipped with a "clack" onto the floor, yet he seemed unfazed: "Is the Japanese really about to act?" Even though he had long suspected it, hearing it aloud still weighed on his heart.

"Intelligence shows the Kwantung Army's Independent Garrison Unit has already gathered at Gongzhuling, and the 2nd Division has completed mobilization," Li Yuxuan picked up the pipe and handed it to him, his fingertip brushing the cold jade surface. "They want more than just Northeast territory; they also covet these machines that can forge guns and cannons."

Zhang Xueliang looked at the equipment draped in canvas, then let out a long sigh: "Since Jingxing ordered it, there's no objection." He waved his hand; the Northeast Army officer behind him stepped forward immediately, "Have the brothers cooperate with the Fifth Army—tear down whatever can be torn, transport whatever can be moved; we must not leave a single screw for the little Japanese."

A month later, on the railway from Fengtian to Shanhaiguan, military trains ran nonstop day and night. Each train bore eighty carriages, the cars packed with dismantled machine tools, steel and ammunition; the Fifth Army flag mounted on the locomotive flapped sharply in the cold wind.

In the dispatch room, the operations staff officer pointed at the numbers on the telegraph machine, his face grim: "Director, so far we have dispatched three hundred twelve trains, yet nearly half the equipment remains unloaded. At this rate, it will likely take five months to move the entire Northeast arsenal back."

Li Yuxuan stared at the map, calculating routes, and without looking up said, "If we can't bring it back, we'll smash it." His voice was as cold as the wind beyond the frontier, "The lathe gears must be shattered, the furnace chambers blown up; we must not let the Japanese salvage anything ready‑made."

"Yes, Director!" the staff officer snapped to attention, and as he turned he accidentally knocked over the corner water‑heater; boiling water splashed onto the floor, rising in a white mist that resembled battlefield smoke.

Li Yuxuan walked to the window, gazing at the trains grouped in the distance, then recalled, "By the way, have all the Fifth Army troops assembled?"

"Report, Chairman, the units of the original Fifth Army that were dispersed have now all regrouped; Du Yuming, Song Xilian and several other generals have arrived in Fengtian and are constructing defenses outside the city." The Adjutant handed over a roster, its pages dense with names—all old comrades from the Battle of Jinan.

Li Yuxuan ran his fingers over the names on the roster, suddenly feeling his eyes grow hot. The stars he had personally "scattered" were, after all, gathering again in the cold Northeastern wind, reigniting as a single blaze.

Meanwhile, in the Kwantung Army Headquarters, Itagaki Seishiro slammed his teacup onto the map, the tea spilling over the characters "Fengtian" like a pool of glaring blood. "Baka! We can't wait any longer!" he roared into the phone, his voice laced with frantic agitation, "If we keep waiting, Li Yuxuan will empty the Northeast arsenal!"

On the other end, the Chief of General Staff hesitated, "But Mr. Itagaki, the command has not issued a formal order yet…"

"Orders? If we wait for orders, we'll only be drinking the Xibei wind!" Itagaki Seishiro seized his command sword, the sheath clanking heavily on the table, "Tell Duomen Erlang: the 2nd Division advances on Fengtian immediately, the Independent Garrison Unit attacks Beidaying; I will capture Fengtian within three days!"

He hung up, walked to the window and stared at the soldiers gathering in the camp, greed flashing in his eyes. The Kwantung Army had plotted this day for far too long; they could not let Li Yuxuan spoil their plans—those arsenal's equipment would be the Empire's finest weapons for conquering Manzhou.

"Charge!" Itagaki Seishiro drew his command sword, the blade flashing coldly in the light, "Take Fengtian for me!"

In the camp, a deafening chorus of "Long live!" rang out, the crisp clatter of steel helmets striking rifles piercing the cold night beyond the frontier, like the death knell of the grim reaper echoing across the Northeast plain.

At that moment in Fengtian City, the last military train of the day was slowly pulling out of the station. Li Yuxuan stood on the platform, watching the train vanish into the night, then turned to Du Yuming beside him and said, "Notify the brothers to stay on high alert tonight; a hard battle is coming."