Chapter 155: Yanjing Speech

Three days later, on July 11, 1937, in front of the hastily erected podium inside Yanjing City, a black‑filled crowd pressed in. Not only were soldiers standing solemn with guns, but also citizens, students, and merchants who had rushed from all directions. Li Yuxuan, who had come from Jinling to Yanjing City, wore a crisp military uniform, the three stars on his shoulder flashing cold light in the dawn. He scanned the audience, his gaze like a torch.

"Fellow Countrymen! Soldiers!"

His voice cut through the quiet of early morning, bearing undeniable power:

"Four nights ago, the cannon fire at Lugou Bridge tore the peace of Huabei and also tore the heart of every Huaxia person! Standing here, I can hear the City wall of Yanjing moaning under the artillery, and I can see the Yongding River stained red with blood!"

He stepped forward, and his right hand thrust sharply toward the Good Earth beneath his feet:

"But I must ask everyone present—whose land is this ground beneath our feet? It is the ancient Huaxia homeland that our ancestors have cultivated for thousands of years! Every inch of soil here is soaked with our forebears' sweat and blood; every brick of the city wall has witnessed our nation's brilliance and vicissitudes!"

A suppressed sob began to ripple through the crowd, and some clenched their fists.

"From Shanhaiguan to Yumen Pass, from the head of the Yangtze River to the tail of the Yellow River, every inch of our Huaxia territory will not be yielded! Any foreign aggression will be repaid with blood!"

His voice rose sharply, like a sword drawn from its scabbard:

"Do you see the muzzle of the Easterners' cannons? It points straight at our national gate! Do you hear the echo of the Unequal treaties? They still squeeze the marrow of our 40 million compatriots! From the Opium War to the Defeat of the First Sino-Japanese War, from the Eight-Nation Alliance to the September 18 Incident, we have endured too long and yielded too much!"

An elderly man with white hair raised his trembling arm and hoarsely shouted, "We can retreat no longer!"

"Exactly!" Li Yuxuan thumped the podium heavily, "Concession does not bring peace, and endurance does not bring dignity! Today I declare that all Unequal treaties forced upon our China are nullified from this day forward! Whoever still wishes to continue this humiliating ledger, first ask whether the steel guns in the hands of our 40 million compatriots agree!"

The entire square boiled over. Soldiers raised their guns to the sky, and citizens waved everything they could—hats, handkerchiefs, even freshly taken headscarves.

"Those Great Powers always think that by mounting a few cannons they can make us kneel. Those Japanese pirates always think that burning, killing, and looting can make our nation perish!" Li Yuxuan's voice thundered with overwhelming force, "But they forget—we are descendants of Yan and Huang, Huaxia people who would rather die standing than live on our knees!"

He inhaled deeply, enunciating each word with a pause:

"Huaxia sons and daughters, better to shatter like jade than remain whole like tiles!"

These twelve words thundered in everyone's hearts like a sudden lightning strike. A female student wiped away her tears and raised her clenched fist high.

"If foreign invaders dare step on our territory, they will be taught a lesson with no return, their stench lingering for ten thousand years! The day they mount cannons at our national gate is the moment our China brandishes a bright sword!" Li Yuxuan's voice was decisive, "Either we drive them out of East Asia, or we bury them in the divine land!"

From the platform erupted a response like a mountain‑roaring, sea‑splashing chant: "Out of Huaxia! Out of Huaxia!"

Li Yuxuan slowly drew his Sword, the cold blade flashing a sharp light in the morning sun. He pointed the sword toward the southeast:

"Recall the shattered mountains and rivers of the past hundred years—when have we truly bowed our heads? Now is the moment to rebuild our nation; we cannot allow wolves to spy again!"

His gaze flashed like lightning across the crowd:

"Soldiers, grip the guns in your hands! Fellow Countrymen, raise your fists against the enemy! Let us build a new Great Wall of flesh and blood, and forge lethal swords with raging fire! We will use the enemy's blood to honor the heroic spirits who fell at Lugou Bridge. We will use victorious flags to comfort the ancestors who have shed blood for this land for centuries!"

The blade traced a silver arc in the air:

"When the mountains and rivers were shattered, we never yielded. On the day of national reconstruction, we cannot tolerate marauding foes! Whoever offends Huaxia, even from afar, shall be exterminated!"

Finally, he raised his Sword high and shouted with all his might:

"Today, I, Li Yuxuan, swear here: to live and die together with you all, to share the fate of our land! Until the Japanese pirates are eradicated, I vow not to return home!"

Each time he shouted "Kill", the blade slashed the air fiercely:

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

These three "Kill" cries grew sharper and more resolute with each utterance. The whole Beiping City seemed to tremble with the sound of the killing shouts.

Public reaction spread like wildfire; on Qianmen Street, a teenage newspaper seller tossed a whole stack of papers into the air, shouting, "Enlist! Fight the devils!" The surrounding crowd roared in thunderous response.

In Yanjing campuses, professors set down their chalk, and students tore their textbooks apart. In the auditorium, a student leader stood on a desk and shouted, "Classmates, studying cannot save today's Huaxia! We must go to the front lines!"

In the deep alleys, an elderly scholar trembled as he opened the ancestral wooden box and handed the treasured Ming dynasty treasure sword to his grandson, "Take it, kill the enemy for the country, and do not betray the Huaxia bloodline!"

Shops shut down one after another; shop owners hauled out stored fabrics, grain, and medicines, piling them on the street, "For the soldiers defending the city! We Yanjing people will not become slaves of a fallen nation!"

Women worked through the night to make cotton clothes and shoes; elderly women exchanged treasured dowry jewelry for medicine. Rickshaw pullers organized themselves to transport supplies to each position. Even the martial artists performing on the skybridge put away their routines and, with their apprentices, rushed to the recruitment office.

When night fell, countless torches were lit atop Beiping City. The firelight illuminated determined faces, from fifteen‑sixteen‑year‑old youths to fifty‑sixty‑year‑old veterans. Li Yuxuan stood on the city tower, gazing at the ignited land. He knew that from this moment, there would be no more partisan strife, no more regional disputes—only a people unwilling to be slaves, issuing a final roar from the brink of ruin.

In Huabei's night sky, starlight and torchlight shone together.