Chapter 138: The End of the Southwest Journey

Li Yuxuan's thoughts drift back to that April afternoon. At the officer commissioning ceremony in Jinling, the Young Master personally placed the First‑class General Rank on him. At that moment the hall was filled with generals, yet he only saw the complex light in the Chairman's eyes.

"Jingxing," the Chairman whispered in his ear, "I have handed you the First Army, the Eighteenth Army, and your Fifth Army. The Southwest is entrusted to you."

He remembered that he had straightened his back and answered, "Yuxuan will certainly exert all effort, not failing the Young Master's heavy trust."

Looking back now, that was not only trust but also an invisible shackles. Three elite units, nearly three hundred thousand troops—this is the greatest authority the Young Master could give him, and also the heaviest restraint.

"Never mind, never mind," Li Yuxuan murmured to himself, "Anyway after the New Year I'll leave the Southwest and take a post at the General Staff Headquarters."

He walked to the safety deposit box, opened the heavy iron door. Inside were neatly stacked Gold Bars, US Dollars, and the Industry Certificates he had arranged in Nanyang and the United States. These were the family assets he had saved bit by bit over the years for his son Li Nian'an.

"Chairman," the confidant's voice came from behind, "Should these be transferred in advance?"

Li Yuxuan shook his head: "Not for now. Nian'an is doing well in Jinling; the Chairman holds him in high regard. Let these assets wait until he needs them."

The next day the snow outside the window grew heavier, and Kunming's streets gradually donned a silver coat. This city of perpetual spring rarely sees such heavy snow.

Li Yuxuan pushed open the window, letting the icy air flood the room. Snowflakes landed on his general's uniform, melted instantly, and he walked to the Military Map. His finger moved slowly from Kunming to Shaanbei, then to the Northeast, then to Huabei…

This country he loves dearly is now riddled with countless wounds. Outside, strong enemies press the borders; inside, political disputes flare. And he, Li Yuxuan, holding heavy troops to guard the Southwest, must make a choice.

"Send a telegram to Jinling:" Li Yuxuan suddenly spoke, "The personnel department is training; we can head north after spring. Yet currently the Japanese Invaders are rampant, Huabei is in crisis; can we temporarily suspend Bandit Suppression and first repel the external aggression?"

The confidant quickly recorded, then asked: "And… Shaanbei?"

Li Yuxuan was silent for a moment: "No need to reply."

But he knew in his heart that this non‑reply itself was an attitude.

"You say this snow, is it falling heavier in Shaanbei?"

"Probably. I heard Shaanbei's winter is very cold."

Li Yuxuan recalled the letter from Yongzhi, "The Japanese Invaders ravage, the nation's peril surpasses everything." How could he not know this truth? Yet the burden on his shoulders is too heavy, the road ahead too treacherous.

"Has the telegram to Jinling been sent?"

"It has already been sent."

Li Yuxuan knew that this seemingly requesting telegram was actually testing the Young Master's attitude. He wanted to know, at the nation's survival crossroads, what this "Young Master" he has followed for years would choose.

Twelve hours later, the Chairman's reply arrived. The tone remained firm: "Jingxing: Message received. Bandit Suppression and Anti‑Japanese are both great causes of the Party and Nation. Yet if bandit trouble is not eliminated, how can we focus on repelling aggression? Fulfill your duties, head north after spring, do not hesitate further."

Li Yuxuan read the telegram and remained silent for a long time.

"Chairman, we…" Huang Wei hesitated, about to speak.

"Proceed with the original plan," Li Yuxuan put the telegram away, "but the march speed can be slowed a bit."

He walked to the map, his finger traced the route from the Southwest to Shaanbei. Along this road lie towering mountains, great rivers, and numerous obstacles from various forces.

"Tell the troops, training must be tightened, but not overly impatient."

In the spring festival of 1936, Kunming city was lit with lanterns and decorations. Yet inside Li Mansion the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive.

"Chairman, all departmental farewell banquets have been arranged," Huang Wei reported the itinerary.

Li Yuxuan waved his hand: "Cancel whatever can be cancelled. Before I leave, I want some quiet."

He walked alone through Kunming's streets, looking at the city he had managed for many years. Every street here bore his footprints. The locals all knew this "Chairman Li."

At a street corner he saw a few children setting off firecrackers. Their laughter was crisp and pleasant, as if unaware that the country was in peril.

"If only this country could remain this peaceful forever," he sighed softly.

Before departing, Li Yuxuan summoned his inner circle for one final meeting.

"After I leave, the Southwest is yours," he said, looking at the generals present, "Remember, our primary task is to protect the land and keep the people safe."

"Chairman, rest assured," Du Yuming stood up to voice, "we will hold this land."

Li Yuxuan nodded, then specially instructed: "With the Red Army… maintain the status quo. No need to provoke actively, but also guard against their infiltration."

After the meeting he stayed alone with Huang Wei: "After I leave, you must pay close attention to developments everywhere, especially… Shaanbei."

"Chairman is worried…"

"Not worried," Li Yuxuan looked north, "just think that perhaps one day we truly need to deal with them."

On the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, the Lantern Festival, Li Yuxuan boarded the Special Train bound for Jinling.

The platform was crowded with departing officials and citizens. The sounds of firecrackers, blessings, and farewells intertwined.

"Chairman, take care!"

"Return soon!"

Li Yuxuan stood at the carriage door, taking one last look at this Spring City. The snow had melted, and spring began to bud on the branches.

The train slowly started, Kunming gradually receded. Li Yuxuan sat in the private compartment, closed his eyes.

He knew this trip to Jinling was not only a job change; at the General Staff Headquarters he would face even tougher choices.

Outside the window was the Huaxia land of 1936. On this soil were bloodied National Army and Red Army, the Japanese Invaders watching hungrily, various forces engaged in open and covert struggles, and countless ordinary people yearning for peace. Li Yuxuan thought and fell asleep. In his dream he saw his past life. No roaring guns, no wandering panic, only the memory of pushing open the window at dawn, the scent of street breakfast wafting from below, children with backpacks chasing and laughing. Though the streets were not perfectly clean, people's faces bore calm smiles; after work they could leisurely stroll the market, pick fresh vegetables and fruit, at night watch the bright lights at home, without fearing sudden bombings or partings. Those days had no great wealth, but a solid hearth, a peace you could breathe in upon waking, a stability without constant dread. The dream was so gentle it eased the slight frown on his sleeping brow.