Chapter 199: Prologue 2

"Jiang Family…" Li Yuxuan forced a bitter smile.

He recalled three months ago, in January 1949, the final meeting in Jinling.

At that time the Liberation Army had already crossed the Yangtze River, the National Government was preparing to move south to Guangzhou, and the Battalion Commander summoned him to a residence near the Zhongshan Mausoleum. That day's Battalion Commander looked older than ever, his back slightly hunched, yet his eyes remained sharp.

"Jingxing, you are to go to Taiwan with me." It was not a discussion, but an order.

Li Yuxuan was silent for a moment: "Battalion Commander, the southeastern half still needs someone to guard it. If I leave, the troops' morale will crumble."

"Guard?" the Battalion Commander sneered. "Can you still hold it? Chen Yi and Su Yu's troops have already reached Jiangbei! The Yangtze River's Heavenly Trench can be held for how many days? I want you to go to Taiwan to preserve the spark; when we counterattack the Mainland, you will be the most crucial force!"

"Young Master…" Li Yuxuan raised his head, "I am fifty‑nine this year. My father and grandfather served the Jiang Family for generations. I was four when I followed you; when you studied, I ground ink. When you practiced martial arts, I handed you a sword. Later you and I attended school together, and you promoted me to General… This gratitude I will never forget."

He paused, his voice a little hoarse: "But this time, I wish to stay in the Southeast. I'm not defending for the Kuomintang, but for the common people of this land. If we can hold one more day, the peasants gain one more day to prepare; factories and schools can relocate a bit more. When we can no longer hold… I will have the troops lay down their weapons to reduce bloodshed."

The Battalion Commander stared at him, his gaze complex. In that moment, Li Yuxuan saw many things in the commander's eyes: anger, disappointment, and perhaps a hint… of understanding?

"You and your son are both stubborn," the Battalion Commander finally said, his tone softened, "How is Xuewen in Nanyang?"

Mentioning his son, Li Yuxuan's face showed a barely perceptible softness: "He wrote last month, saying he has set foot in Borneo. The local Chinese Chamber of Commerce supports him, and he has formed a three‑thousand‑person self‑defense force that controls two ports and a rubber plantation."

"Fine, fine," the Battalion Commander nodded. "Nanyang is a fallback. But Jingxing, you must think clearly—stay on the Mainland, and when the Republic arrives, how will they treat you? You are a 'Reactionary Warlord', a 'War Criminal'!"

"I know," Li Yuxuan said calmly, "But I owe this land. Over the years I followed you fighting warlords and the Anti‑Japanese, yet I also watched the people suffer. Now I no longer wish to fight. If a peaceful handover is possible, let it be peaceful."

That conversation ended on a sour note. The Battalion Commander finally said, "Jingxing, you will regret this."

Now, sitting in the old Xikou residence, listening to the increasingly close bugle calls, Li Yuxuan asked himself: Do I regret it?

"Now the Jiang Group has abandoned Sun Yat‑sen's legacy, carrying out a dictatorial civil war… You, as the Southeast Military‑Political Chief, command heavy forces yet are constrained by others; you have the desire to protect the land and its people, but cannot implement policies to save the nation and its people."

The words in the Letter struck a painful spot.

At the end of 1948, he was appointed Southeast Military‑Political Chief, nominally commanding the military affairs of the four provinces of Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Anhui, and Jiangxi. In reality? He could not move other people's troops; the Southwest Army he had once formed had already been taken by his son to the Southwest. The only forces he could command were a few remaining divisions of his own Fifth Army and the local security units.

He had considered organizing an effective defense on the southern bank of the Yangtze River, but superiors urged a "die‑hard hold," even though supplies never lacked. He also thought of contacting the Republic for a peaceful handover, but his subordinates opposed. He wanted to preserve the industrial facilities of Hangzhou and Ningbo, but Tang Enbo sent men to bomb the Qiantang River Bridge…

"Sir, you are close with Zhou Ming, and you deeply understand our Party's principle of 'no blame for past deeds, reward for merit.' The peaceful liberation of Beiping and the cases of Cheng Qian and Chen Ming receiving favorable treatment after the Uprising demonstrate our army's genuine care for Rebel Generals."

Zhou Ming… he recalled that eternally courteous young man with clear eyes. In 1938 in Jiangcheng, when KMT‑CCP cooperation against the war was at its tightest, they had several deep conversations. Zhou Ming once said, "Mr. Jingxing, you are a person I respect. After the victory over Japan, regardless of how circumstances change, I hope Huaxia can embark on a path of peaceful construction."

In 1946, before the civil war broke out, Zhou Ming also asked someone to convey a message: "Please, Jingxing, take care, and do not get drawn into the tragedy of brothers fighting each other."

But he could not accomplish it.

"Your courtesy name is 'Jingxing', 'Lofty mountains are to be revered, Jingxing proceeds with righteousness', so you should choose the right path."

In Yanjing, Duan Qirui gave him the courtesy name "Jingxing", hoping his conduct would be bright and as open as a great road. Yet in his life, how many twists has he taken? He served warlords, fought in the civil war, resisted Japan, and now has become the highest‑ranking general about to be captured in this civil war.

"Sir, outside… people are coming," Zhou Fu's voice trembled slightly.

Li Yuxuan looked up, and through the lattice saw the courtyard gate of the old house being pushed open. Several soldiers in coarse cloth uniforms wearing Red Five‑Star Caps entered, led by a thin‑faced officer in his thirties, a pistol at his waist but his hand not resting on it.

They did not enter immediately, but stopped in the courtyard. The leading officer looked up at the old house and said to those beside him, "Is this where General Li was born? Guard it well, do not damage it."

Li Yuxuan tidied his worn uniform—he had removed his senior officer insignia and now wore a plain yellow woolen military coat. He took the Letter, folded it, placed it in his inner pocket, then stood and pushed open the study door.

The rain had stopped, the courtyard was damp. May sunlight slipped through the clouds, illuminating the blue‑gray stone slab path.

The leading officer saw him, stood at attention, and gave a standard military salute: "General Li, Deputy Director of the Political Department of the Third Field Army, Seventh Corps, Zhao Qiming."

Li Yuxuan returned the salute, his movement a bit sluggish.

Zhao Qiming stepped forward, his demeanor respectful: "By order of Commander Chen Yi and Deputy Commander Su Yu, please, General Li, step forward. The superior has specifically instructed that you be treated with courtesy."

"Chen Yi, Su Yu…" Li Yuxuan nodded, "Are they all right?"

"The superiors are all well. Commander Chen asked me to tell you: the teachers of Huangpu, we forever respect. As long as you lay down your weapons, you are friends."

Li Yuxuan looked at the few young Liberation Army soldiers in the courtyard; they stood with rifles, but their eyes held no hostility, only curiosity—perhaps they were curious about the legendary "high‑ranking Kuomintang general, one man above ten thousand" and what he truly was like.

"What about my troops?" he asked.

"All have laid down their weapons and are undergoing reorganization. According to policy, those who wish to stay will be transferred into our army; those who want to return home will receive travel allowances. No bloodshed, no clashes." Zhao Qiming paused, "We owe this to General Li's prior arrangements."

Li Yuxuan relaxed. This was the last thing he could do—three days earlier, he had issued his final order to all subordinates: "After the Liberation Army crosses the river, if you cannot hold, you may decide yourself whether to resist. My personal suggestion… prioritize preserving the lives of the soldiers above all."

It now appears most of his subordinates followed the advice.

"I will go with you," he said.