Chapter 179: Defending Jinling 3

November 16, 1937, on the streets of Jinling, the early‑winter chill swept through the alleys, bringing not the familiar market bustle but an ever‑deepening panic and despair. The freshly posted "National Government Relocation to Chongqing Declaration" on the wall was still wet when it was covered by a jumble of missing‑person notices, private shipping ads, and crooked slogans proclaiming "Swear to live and die with Jinling." The sound was chaotic—newsboys shouted hoarsely about the rapidly changing battle reports, rickshaw pullers struggled through the crowd with passengers piled in crates, sharp car horns and intermittent air‑raid sirens blended into a discordant symphony.

Members of the Republican Underground Party's "Jinling All‑Sectors Anti‑Enemy Support Association" were conducting street propaganda around Xinjiekou. A young man wearing glasses and looking like a student stood on a temporarily moved wooden crate, waving his arms, his voice trembling with excitement:

"Fellow Countrymen! Brothers and sisters! Do not be misled by talk of retreat! And never believe the Japanese would show kindness! The blood of Modu has not yet dried, haven't you seen enough of the devils' deeds?!"

"Defending Jinling is defending our home! Defending our roots! The KMT and CCP are both calling for unity against the enemy! Red Army brothers are sabotaging railways and attacking strongholds in the north, tying down the devils for us! We Jinling people must not be cowardly!"

"Those with strength, go help National Army brothers repair works! Those with planks, donate them for stretchers! Those with stored grain, bring it to support the city‑defending troops! The more days we hold, the more time the elders and fellow countrymen in the rear have to prepare! Jinling is not so easily taken!"

His words resonated with some citizens, especially the youth and a few in work clothes, sparking scattered applause and cheers. But many gaunt, family‑bearing townsfolk wore bewilderment and disbelief. A middle‑aged woman cradling a child whispered to her companion, "It sounds nicer than it is… Most officials have fled, leaving the soldiers—what can they do? Those people… are a hundred‑thousand‑eight‑hundred miles away…"

Newly appointed Garrison Commander Tang Shengzhi convened a military meeting. He tried to adopt a stance of sharing the city's fate, delivering a passionate speech, proclaiming "By order, we will defend Jinling, swearing to live and die with Jinling." He then issued a "burn the boats" order, demanding each unit seize all vessels along the Yangtze River and hand them over to Headquarters for unified dispatch, to demonstrate resolve.

Yet in private after the meeting, Tang Shengzhi returned to his office and whispered to his trusted Adjutant, "Defend Jinling? Easier said than done! The troops are cobbled together, morale low, ammunition scarce, especially since Jing Gong has taken all the ships for civilian relocation… Jing Gong is putting me on the fire!" His eyes flickered, clearly far less steadfast than his public stance.

At Xiaguan Dock, Huang Wei, dressed in an inconspicuous gray cotton robe with his hat brim pulled low, whispered with a few men who looked like boat bosses in an abandoned warehouse area.

"Officer Huang, rest assured, all seven vessels have been inspected, the engines are fine, hidden in Reed Marsh, the brothers keep watch twenty‑four hours, absolutely reliable," a scar‑faced man said gravely.

Huang Wei nodded, handed over a heavy sack of money: "This is the final payment. Remember, without my handwritten order, no one may use these ships, not even the Garrison Headquarters staff! Violators will be dealt with under Military Law!"

"Understood!" the boat boss took the sack, weighed it, slipped it into his chest, "We may be wanderers, but we know weight and value. These ships are a retreat route left for those truly in need."

Huang Wei stared at the turbid river, his heart heavy. Compared with the hundreds of thousands of soldiers and civilians awaiting evacuation, the seven ships were a drop in the bucket. It was merely a desperate, covert move by the officer, a faint sliver of conscience that barely registered against the official orders.

In the Republican Underground Party's Jinling underground office, within an unremarkable residence serving as a Secret Contact Point, several core members were working anxiously. The person in charge, Lao Zhang, a middle‑aged man who looked like an accountant, whispered the assignments:

"The situation is urgent; the Kuomintang's evacuation effort has essentially failed, and trust is completely shattered. Our mission is twofold."

"First, using our own channels, transfer as many progressive students, cultural figures, worker leaders and their families as possible. Those on the list will be moved in batches via different routes toward Wannan and Subei. Our comrades on the other side of the river have already received them."

"Second, mobilize and assist ordinary citizens who can be mobilized to evacuate on their own. Discreetly disseminate the relatively safe foot‑path maps we possess, as well as the reasonably reputable civilian shipping information. Remind everyone not to believe the Japanese will treat prisoners and civilians kindly; aren't the lessons from Modu and Suzhou enough?"

"Third," Lao Zhang said gravely, "we must leave a portion of comrades behind. After Jinling falls, this place will become a living hell, but also the most brutal battlefield. We will establish hidden contact points, strive to protect the fellow countrymen who cannot evacuate, gather intelligence, and wait for the right moment. This is an even more arduous and dangerous task."

A young female comrade couldn't help asking, "Lao Zhang, how many people can we actually save?"

Lao Zhang paused, adjusted his glasses, and his gaze behind the lenses was firm yet compassionate: "If we can save one, that's one. A single spark can start a prairie fire. Even if we can only illuminate an inch of darkness, we must act."

Outside Jinling City, at the th Brigade's temporary garrison, Li Nian'an stood on a small knoll, gazing at the faint outline of Jinling's city wall in the distance. After completing the Kunshan ambush mission, his unit had suffered considerable losses and was now briefly resting and resupplying here. He had refused his father's order to transfer with the Third War Zone Headquarters, and also declined other allied forces' offers to incorporate his troops.

"Brigade Commander, the Garrison Headquarters, Officer Tang, has sent people, wanting our brigade to enter the city to reinforce Guanghua Gate's defenses, and also hoping you can speak with Jing Gong, asking him to hand over the seized vessels to him," the Chief of Staff reported.

Li Nian'an said, "Enter that cage that will eventually be boiled? Tell him, my th Brigade is accustomed to mobile warfare; we stay on the outskirts and can bite the devils any time we get a chance! City defenses? Let Officer Tang and his 'core troops' handle that! As for my father, just say I couldn't persuade him."

He harbored little hope for a stubborn defense of the isolated city; Tang Shengzhi's command ability and resolve made him skeptical. He preferred to exploit his unit's mobility and combat power, conducting guerrilla raids around Jinling's outskirts, which, even if limited, were better than being trapped inside. At the same time, he was covertly gathering the scattered, still‑spirited small units, building up strength.

In Jiangcheng, at the principal's camp, Dai Li again reported to the principal the latest situation in Jinling, including the public's panic, the chaotic evacuations, Tang Shengzhi's public rhetoric, and… Li Yuxuan's secret arrangement of ships through Huang Wei.

The principal listened in silence for a long while. "Jinling… a million lives…" he murmured to himself, a fleeting, hard‑to‑read emotion crossing his face before his usual coldness returned. "Jingxing is angry; let him vent, vent," he repeated his earlier words, then turned, his sharp gaze fixed on Dai Li, "Those ships might save a few people. You know what to do about this."

"Yes, Commander! Absolutely confidential!" Dai Li understood perfectly.