Chapter 176: Nanjing

On the night of November 12, 1937, at the Li Mansion in Nanjing, a mournful air‑raid siren again split the night sky, and distant muffled explosions rattled the window glass. In the study, the tassels beneath the lampshade swayed slightly. Li Yuxuan stood by the window, not retreating to the air‑raid shelter as usual, but quietly watching the southeast sky tinged red by firelight. That direction was toward Shanghai, and also the direction from which his son Li Nian'an had just withdrawn after a bloody fight.

"Lord Jing, it's too dangerous; we should go down and take shelter," Adjutant Zhou Weian said as he pushed the door open, his tone urgent.

Li Yuxuan seemed not to hear him; after a long pause he finally spoke slowly, his voice carrying a barely perceptible hoarseness: "Zhou Weian, you ask, how could our 800,000‑strong army, even after I deployed the elite units of the First Army and the Fifth Army in a three‑month bloody battle, still end up… defeated?"

Zhou Weian was silent for a moment, then whispered: "Lord Jing, in the Battle of Songhu our troops gave their all and shattered the Japanese claim of 'March to Destroy China.' Now… we are merely making a strategic withdrawal, trading space for time."

"Withdrawal…" Li Yuxuan repeated the official term, a hint of bitterness curling his lips. Only he knew that the soul from a later age deep within him throbbed with fierce anguish for the impending, inevitable tragedy. Nanjing… the Capital of Six Dynasties—what it was about to face, he understood more clearly than anyone of this era. Mountains of corpses, seas of blood, three hundred thousand wronged souls… each figure seared his remaining conscience like a red‑hot branding iron.

"Any news on Li Nian'an?" he forced the conversation elsewhere, as if trying to draw a sliver of strength from his concern for his son.

"We just received a telegram from Army Commander Du; the 259th Brigade has successfully broken contact with the Japanese and is withdrawing along the Beijing–Shanghai line toward Suzhou. Though casualties are heavy, the main force remains intact, and Young Master Li Nian'an… is unharmed," Zhou Weian reported promptly.

"Unharmed is good…" Li Yuxuan let out a long sigh, but his brows did not relax. His son was temporarily safe, yet a greater danger was barreling toward Nanjing along the Beijing–Shanghai line at nearly a hundred kilometers per day.

On November 13, at 7 a. m., the Nanjing Military Committee was suffused with unprecedented tension. Bad news arrived one after another: the Japanese had occupied Jiading, Kunshan had fallen, Suzhou was in alarm… Along the Beijing–Shanghai line, retreating troops mingled with fleeing civilians, and order was nearly out of control. Japanese bomber formations flew over Nanjing more frequently, casting a shadow of death.

The President paced back and forth in the Operations Hall, his complexion ashen. He Yingqin, Chen Cheng, Bai Chongxi, Xu Yongchang and other senior commanders, along with civilian leaders, gathered together, each face marked by gravity and anxiety.

"Relocate the capital! We must immediately move the capital to Jiangcheng!" Vice President of the Executive Yuan and Finance Minister Kong Xiangxi was the first to break the silence, his tone urgent: "Nanjing can no longer be defended; Japanese forces are within striking distance. If the command headquarters and government agencies do not relocate, once encircled the consequences will be unimaginable!"

"Brother Yong's words are spot on!" He Yingqin immediately agreed, "From a military standpoint, Nanjing's terrain is unfavorable for defense; our army has just suffered a new defeat, morale is low, and we urgently need to regroup. To fight the Japanese here would be like striking stone with an egg. Relocating the capital is the only way to preserve our anti‑Japanese strength."

"Relocating the capital is natural," Chen Cheng interjected, glancing at the President's grim expression, "but Nanjing… should we defend it? For how long? That must be clarified. If we abandon it without a fight, the blow to international perception and domestic public sentiment would be too great!"

"Defend? How to defend?" Bai Chongxi sneered, his tone bearing the blunt candor of the Guangxi clique, "The troops we can still use are all in retreat, formations are chaotic, exhausted, and ammunition is scarce. The Nanjing city wall may look solid, but before modern artillery it is nothing but tofu crust! Holding Nanjing to the death only adds casualties and consigns more elite units to ruin; what purpose does that serve? I advocate only symbolic resistance, then a proactive withdrawal!"

"Brother Jiànshēn, you are overly pessimistic!" Li Yuxuan, who had been silent, suddenly spoke, his voice low yet instantly drawing everyone's attention. He rose, walked to the massive map, and hammered his finger on Nanjing's location, "Nanjing is the capital! It is where the founding father's tomb lies! It is the heart of the nation's spirit! How can we speak of abandoning it? If we flee without fighting, what face do we, the soldiers, have before the elders of Jiangdong? What right do we have to wear this uniform?!"

His voice trembled with emotion, "I know the difficulties are many, but precisely because of those difficulties we must hold! Even holding one more day can show the world the Huaxia government's resolve to fight to the end! It also buys more time for rear deployments, factory relocations, and troop reorganization. Nanjing must be defended! Moreover, someone must stay and defend it resolutely!"

He stared at the President with burning eyes, almost pleading: "Young Master! I, Yuxuan, though unworthy, am willing to lead the still‑combat‑ready forces of the Third War Zone to stay in Nanjing and fight the Japanese pirates to the death! If the city falls, the people fall!"

His words rang out, bearing an almost tragic resolve. Many of the generals present were moved, but more remained silent and puzzled. It was clearly an impossible task—why was Lord Jing so stubborn?

The President's gaze was deep, fixed on Li Yuxuan as if trying to read his innermost thoughts. He did not respond immediately, but rhythmically tapped the table with his fingers. After a long pause he said slowly, "Jingxing, your loyalty and bravery give me great comfort. But…" He shifted tone, his voice heavy, "Because Nanjing is the capital, a symbol, its abandonment cannot be so rash! This matter concerns the whole situation and requires long‑term deliberation. The meeting is adjourned for now; military and political staff remain, while the Executive Yuan members return to prepare the capital relocation without delay!"

On November 13, at 2 p. m., the President's residence in the Zhongshan Mausoleum grounds hosted a smaller but higher‑level core military meeting, the location chosen for its greater concealment and safety. Attendees were only the President, He Yingqin, Chen Cheng, Bai Chongxi, Xu Yongchang, Tang Shengzhi and Li Yuxuan, a handful of just over ten people.

The meeting had a single agenda: the final decision on defending or abandoning Nanjing, and who would be responsible for the "defense."

The atmosphere was even more solemn than in the morning. After analyzing the enemy‑friendly situation, force ratios, and logistical realities, most favored a "short‑term hold then retreat" plan, but the crucial question was who would shoulder this "knowing it cannot be done yet doing it" tragic task? It was almost a position destined to bear infamy and massive loss.

After a suffocating silence, Training Director Tang Shengzhi suddenly straightened his back. Recently sidelined for health reasons and politically out of frontline command, he seemed eager to seize the chance to regain authority. His voice rang out, "President! Everyone! How can the capital be abandoned without a fight? I, Meng Xiao, though unworthy, am willing to assume the responsibility of defending Nanjing! A soldier offers his life to the nation, ready to die in battle! I am determined to share Nanjing's fate!"

His words left everyone present momentarily stunned. The President's eyes flickered slightly, without giving a clear answer.

At that moment, Li Yuxuan rose again, his voice steadier and more resolute than Tang Shengzhi's: "Young Master! Brother Meng Xiao's courage in taking on the task is admirable. Yet the Third War Zone troops, having endured the bloody Battle of Songhu, are more familiar with Japanese tactics, and our command still has several divisions that can be rapidly redeployed for defense. Guarding Nanjing is our duty, an obligation we cannot shirk! I, Yuxuan, again volunteer, willing to replace Brother Meng Xiao in defending Nanjing!"

He could not state the course of history outright, and could only try to alter the destined outcome by this almost competitive plea. In his mind there was only one thought: even if he could save just one more person, even if he could shrink the scale of the massacre a little, he must do everything he can!

"Jingxing!" the President slammed the table, his voice suddenly rising with unprecedented severity, even tinged with anger at his lack of contest, "You are the person I trust most! I have watched you grow up like a brother! Precisely for that reason, you must not act on impulse!"

He rose, walked to Li Yuxuan's side, his gaze blazing, his words weighty yet unmistakably decisive: "Your value lies in the Third War Zone! In the southeastern half of the realm! There we have the base to rebuild our forces, the economic lifeline that sustains the resistance! How can we sacrifice the whole situation for the gain or loss of a single city? Whether Nanjing is defended, and for how long, is a strategic and political issue with broader considerations! Your battlefield is not here!"

Li Yuxuan opened his mouth, still wanting to argue, the horrific scenes in his mind nearly bursting from his throat. But the President gave him no chance.

"Order!" the President turned to the assembled, his voice returning to its usual coldness, "Third War Zone Commander Li Yuxuan, immediately return to the front, coordinate the Su‑Zhe‑Wan border defense, stabilize morale, absorb the retreating units, and under no circumstance remain in Nanjing! This is an order!"

"Young Master!" Li Yuxuan's face turned pale.

"Execute the order!" the President cut him off without mercy, then addressed He Yingqin, Chen Cheng and others, "The selection of the Nanjing Garrison Commander will be decided later. Meeting adjourned!"

The others left in mixed spirits, and the conference room was left with only the President and Li Yuxuan, the atmosphere so heavy it seemed to solidify.

The President walked to Li Yuxuan's side, patted his shoulder, his tone softening with a heartfelt nuance: "Jingxing, there are no outsiders here. Between you and me, we need not speak those lofty words."

He pointed to Nanjing on the map, his voice low: "Nanjing is a death trap! Surrounded on three sides by mountains and bordering a river, Japanese warships and artillery can strike the city directly! Our army has just suffered a new defeat, morale is low, reinforcements are hopeless! Those who stay here are doomed to sacrifice and bear the scorn of abandoning the capital!"

He looked at Li Yuxuan's shocked and pained eyes and continued, "But our foundation is not in Nanjing; it is in the Southwest! In Jiangcheng, in Shancheng! Our true capital is you, Ci Xiu, Guang Ting, and the elite units we have cultivated ourselves! Is it worth squandering these assets on Nanjing?"

"Let others hold the line, bear the responsibility, and buy us time—that is enough!" the President's tone carried a cold, clear realism, "Your mission is to keep the Third War Zone, using the Jiangnan water network to resist in layers, wear down the Japanese, and preserve the southeastern vitality! That is the key to whether our resistance can endure. Do you understand?"

Li Yuxuan felt a chill run through his body; he understood that the President saw as clearly, even more coldly and realistically. He knew Nanjing could not be held, and what he needed was a "dignified" sacrifice and buffer.

"Young Master…" Li Yuxuan's voice trembled, "but Nanjing… tens of thousands of civilians inside the city…"

"I know your heart is with the people; your loyalty and bravery are commendable!" the President cut him off, his tone shifting to consolation, even promising, "But now is not the time for you to act as a reckless hero! Your battlefield lies elsewhere. When the resistance wins and the mountains and rivers are restored, I will entrust you with an even greater responsibility, relying on you as the nation's cornerstone! For now, you protecting the Third War Zone for me, for this country, is the greatest support to me and the nation!"

At this point, Li Yuxuan knew everything was settled. He could not alter the tide of history, nor even change the President's long‑planned abandonment strategy. That profound helplessness threatened to engulf him. He slowly raised his hand, rendered an exceedingly heavy military salute, his throat choked, and finally managed only two words:

"Yes… Young Master."

He turned and walked away from the residence, his steps a little unsteady. Outside, night was deep and the cold wind cut to the bone.