Chapter 208: A New Beginning 2

Sir had just left, and Huang Wei quietly approached. He had just been standing by the courtyard gate for a while—this was, of course, with Liu Guangzhi's tacit approval; everyone knew Huang Wei was Li Yuxuan's longtime subordinate and could be trusted.

"Director," Huang Wei stepped into the room, his face still bearing a lingering anger, "the words just now may not be true."

Li Yuxuan slowly sat back in the rattan chair, "What do you mean?"

Huang Wei's face flushed a bit, "All they say is 'they were late.' Back during the united anti‑Japanese war, they were far from short on 'lateness'! Not to mention the distant ones, just take the third Star City Battle—though they had agreed to cooperate on the flank, we never saw a single trace of them! In my view, this flaw had been present from early on."

Li Yuxuan placed his teacup on the table, his gaze calm as he looked at the straightforward student, "Stay with me, sit down and speak slowly."

Although Huang Wei sat down, his chest continued to rise and fall.

"First," Li Yuxuan said in an even tone, "today we address the Director as 'Sir'; that's protocol and respect. Second, the situation back then was tangled and complex, far from being summed up by the two words 'late.'"

He paused, then asked back, "Then tell me, in the 1938 battles around Jiangcheng, how many enemy troops were tied down by guerrilla sabotage of transport and raids on outposts? Does that count as coordination?"

Huang Wei was momentarily at a loss for words.

"Military affairs have never been separate from politics," Li Yuxuan continued, "During the united anti‑Japanese war, even under the overall picture each side had its own considerations. Mutual suspicion and mismatched tempos were inevitable. You were stationed in Shancheng then, and many matters were beyond your control."

"And... what about that plane crash?" Huang Wei lowered his voice further, "In the spring of 1946, his private aircraft crashed near Jinling; publicly it was blamed on weather. But I heard rumors that someone tampered with it... Could his scheming be absent from this?"

Li Yuxuan gave him a glance, his eyes deep. He stood, walked to the doorway, looked outside, closed the door, and then sat back down.

"Stay with me, you've followed me for several years, haven't you?"

"Since graduation I've been with you, over twenty years."

"Then I ask you," Li Yuxuan's voice low, "why did that director who wielded great power and had eyes everywhere die back then?"

Huang Wei was stunned, "You mean..."

"That director had headed the intelligence agency for nearly a decade and knew too many secrets," Li Yuxuan said slowly, "During the war his influence expanded rapidly; even I had to give him some credit. After victory, he tried to extend his reach into both naval and ground forces and to control the massive assets being requisitioned after the war. Could the higher-ups truly tolerate him for long?"

Huang Wei's eyes widened gradually, "You are saying..."

"A few days before the incident," Li Yuxuan's voice was barely audible, "he came to Hangzhou to see me, saying someone wanted to move against him and hoped for my support. Three days later, the plane went down."

The room was dead silent, only the faint chirping of cicadas outside the window could be heard.

"Could it really be... the higher-ups' will?" Huang Wei's voice trembled.

"I said nothing," Li Yuxuan lifted his teacup, "I only said that those who wanted him gone were probably more internal than external... As for him..." He paused briefly, "What if I was involved in that matter?"

Huang Wei was utterly stunned, his mouth agape as he stared at Li Yuxuan, unable to utter a single word for a long moment.

Seeing his reaction, Li Yuxuan instead gave a faint smile, "Just kidding. I never had such ability."

But Huang Wei could no longer calm his mind. He knew the old superior too well—he never spoke without certainty, nor made such half‑hearted jokes.

"Director, exactly how much do you know about the inside story?" Huang Wei's voice changed tone.

Li Yuxuan rose and paced to the window, his back to him, "Stay with me, knowing some things too clearly is no blessing. Just remember: politics is a deep, bottomless pool. The director's death—some say it was the work of rivals, some call it an accident, others suspect external forces meddled... the truth may forever sink like a stone in the sea. But one thing is clear: his death let many people feel a weight lifted from their hearts."

He turned around, speaking slowly, "I am among them as well."

Huang Wei suddenly recalled the spring of 1946. After that incident, the intelligence system underwent restructuring, and many powers were re‑consolidated. The war zone where Li Yuxuan operated indeed shed many unnecessary restraints.

"So when you just said 'what if'..."

"When I said 'what if,' I wanted you to understand," Li Yuxuan sat back in the chair, "that you can't view the issue too simplistically. The director's death benefited more than one side. Rivals naturally welcomed it, but internal beneficiaries may be even more. As for whether he was involved... does it still matter?"

Huang Wei fell silent. He suddenly felt that after fighting wars for half his life, his grasp of politics was still so shallow.

"Enough," Li Yuxuan waved his hand, "let the past stay the past. What you should think about now is how to study peacefully here, reshape your mind, and later how to go out and find your place in the New Society. Not to keep ruminating over right and wrong from twenty years ago."

"But I... feel so suppressed!" Huang Wei became agitated, "We shed so much blood for the anti‑Japanese war, and now we're like prisoners under the stairs! Meanwhile those people have become heroes! Is this justice?"

"Justice?" Li Yuxuan gave a wry smile, "When has absolute justice ever existed? During the anti‑Japanese war, the front lines were brutal, but the rear‑area battles were equally grueling. Pingxingguan, Hundred Regiments Offensive, Huangtuling... weren't the sacrifices there also great? It's just that our propaganda fell short."

He sighed, continuing, "And after victory, what did we do here? Requisition turned into plunder, prices skyrocketed daily, the people suffered unbearably. Such a situation cannot last. They implemented Land Reform, giving farmers their own fields, naturally winning public sentiment. Those who win the people's hearts win the world; that's a timeless principle."

Huang Wei lowered his head, no longer speaking.

"Go back," Li Yuxuan gently patted his shoulder, "ponder my words carefully. The New Nation has now been established; that's the trend. We, who came from the Old Era, must either go with the current or be swallowed by it. Which path will you choose?"

Huang Wei stood, instinctively straightening his back, and gave a salute—a habit ingrained from years of military service.

"Director, I understand."

He turned and left the room, his silhouette appearing somewhat heavy. Li Yuxuan watched him go, shaking his head lightly. The student was a brave commander in battle, but when it came to politics, he was still too naive.

A few days later, in mid‑late July, the Fourth Executive Meeting of the New Political Consultative Conference preparatory committee was held in Jingcheng. Mr. Hutu chaired the meeting, with representatives from all walks gathered to discuss nation‑building matters such as the national flag, emblem, and anthem.

"Comrades," Mr. Hutu stood before the podium, "After extensive collection and preliminary selection, we now have several candidate proposals. We now submit them for the assembly's deliberation."

He displayed the design of the five‑star red flag, explaining its symbolism in detail. Then the national anthem's melody rang through the hall.

The discussion was heated. Some expressed agreement, others offered revisions, but the overall atmosphere remained united and democratic.

During the recess, Mr. Hutu walked to the window for a brief rest. The secretary handed him a glass of water, "Sir, you've been overworked these past days."

"Not at all," Mr. Hutu looked at the rippling lake beyond the window, "The New Nation is about to be born; my heart is only joy."

He recalled Li Yuxuan, still studying at Gongde Lin, and the former military‑political personnel undergoing reform. How to arrange their futures and let each find their proper place were matters requiring careful consideration.

"Sir," the secretary whispered in report, "General Chen called, inquiring about General Li Yuxuan's recent situation."

"Tell him everything is fine," Mr. Hutu said, "Also make arrangements: next month invite General Chen, General Lin, and they should visit Gongde Lin again. Bring more books and newspapers, chat more. Their teacher‑student bond is deep, making conversation more heartfelt."

"Understood."

The meeting continued. Ultimately, the flag and anthem proposals were approved. When the resolution was announced, the whole hall rose, applause thundered.

Mr. Hutu watched the scene, his eyes slightly warm. He thought of his early glorious years, of the era of raging war, of the fallen comrades, and of old friends like Li Yuxuan who once walked the same path but later diverged.

History's torrent surged forward; some stood bravely at the crest, some lingered on the shore, some chose different routes. Yet in the end, all winding roads seemed to lead to the same destination: the nation's rebirth and revitalization.

Inside Gongde Lin, Li Yuxuan saw the news of the flag and anthem being finalized on that day's newspaper. He read the entire article carefully, then folded the paper neatly and put it away.

Du Yuming pushed the door open, "Director, what news are you reading?"

"The flag and anthem are set," Li Yuxuan said, "Red flag, five stars."

Du Yuming took the newspaper, glanced at it, "Well designed. Simple, grand, spirited."

The two were silent for a moment. The sunlight outside the window was just right, flooding the courtyard and bathing this newly reborn land.