Chapter 214: In Progress 1

At 4 a. m. on October 1, 1949, before dawn, the Gongde Lin War Criminal Management Office was silent, save for the footsteps of a sentinel pacing the wall.

Li Yuxuan was already awake. He lay on the bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

A light knock came from outside the door, three times.

"Come in."

Liu Guangzhi pushed the door open and entered, holding a brand‑new Zhongshan suit: "Lord Jing, this is prepared for you. Freshen up, change clothes, and set out at six o'clock."

Li Yuxuan sat up, examined the deep‑blue Zhongshan suit—fine khaki fabric, exquisitely tailored. "So formal?"

"Today's occasion is special," Liu Guangzhi placed the suit by the bedside. "That person gave special instructions; you must attend."

Li Yuxuan said no more, got up to wash. As warm water brushed his face, he looked at the reflection—fifty‑nine years old, temples completely white, deep crow's‑feet, yet his gaze remained clear. That face had witnessed the fall of the Qing dynasty, the Warlord chaos, the Northern Expedition, the Anti‑Japanese war, the civil war, and now was to witness the birth of a new nation.

He changed into the Zhongshan suit; it fit perfectly, as if custom‑made. Liu Guangzhi handed him a pair of new leather shoes: "Try them on."

"You've gone to great trouble," Li Yuxuan said.

"It's my duty," Liu Guangzhi glanced at his watch. "The car is already waiting outside. Also…" He hesitated. "Other War Criminals at Gongde Lin will listen to the broadcast today, but the only one who can go to Tiananmen in person is you."

Li Yuxuan nodded, understanding the weight of it inside.

When he left the room, dawn was faintly breaking. In the courtyard, Du Yuming, Wang Yaowu, Huang Wei and others were already up, standing at their doorways watching him. They all knew what day it was, and they all knew where Li Yuxuan was headed.

Du Yuming stepped forward, about to speak but stopped.

"Guang Ting," Li Yuxuan patted his shoulder, "Listen to the broadcast carefully. Today… is an important day."

"Director," Du Yuming whispered, "Observe more, and tell us when you return."

"Alright."

Heading to Tiananmen

At exactly six o'clock, a black sedan rolled out of the Gongde Lin Gate. Besides the driver, Liu Guangzhi and two guards were aboard. Li Yuxuan sat in the back seat, watching Yanjing City awaken outside the window.

The streets were already bustling. Cleaners swept, newsboys arranged papers, the early‑morning noodle stall sent up steam. Many shop doors displayed red flags—not the Blue Sky White Sun Flag, but the Five‑Star Red Flag.

"Is this the flag that person showed me before?" he asked.

"Yes," Liu Guangzhi replied, "It's the plan approved by the Political Consultative Conference. Red symbolizes Revolution, the five stars symbolize the great unity of all ethnic peoples under the leadership of the Huaxia Republican Party."

Li Yuxuan nodded, saying nothing further. As the car passed Chang'an Street, he saw workers erecting the viewing platform, students rehearsing formations, and a bustling, festive atmosphere everywhere.

At seven o'clock, the car entered Zhongnanhai. Guards checked credentials and cleared the way. Li Yuxuan was led to a lounge where several people were already waiting, most of whom he recognized: Cheng Qian, Fu Zuoyi, Zhang Zhizhong… all former Kuomintang generals who had joined the Uprising or defected.

"Lord Jing!" Cheng Qian was the first to stand. He was five years older than Li Yuxuan but spry. "You've come too!"

Li Yuxuan shook his hand: "Lord Song, long time no see."

"Indeed, it's been over a year since we left Xingcheng," Cheng Qian sighed. "I never imagined we'd meet again here, on a day like this."

The others came over to greet him. Fu Zuoyi wore Liberation Army uniform, his insignia bearing two stars—he had been appointed Minister of the Ministry of Water Resources, essentially "one of us." Zhang Zhizhong still wore a Zhongshan suit; he was the Kuomintang peace‑talk representative, credited with Yanjing's peaceful liberation.

They sat down for tea, and the conversation naturally turned to today's ceremony.

"I heard three hundred thousand people will attend the ceremony," Fu Zuoyi said. "Tiananmen Square will be packed."

"Not just the square; the whole Chang'an Street corridor is filled," Zhang Zhizhong added. "I came from the western suburbs and saw ordinary people carrying elders and children into the city, all eager to see Huaxia's birth with their own eyes."

Cheng Qian looked at Li Yuxuan: "Lord Jing, did you come from Gongde Lin?"

"Yes."

"How's it over there...?"

"Fine. Reading, studying, reforming," Li Yuxuan said calmly.

Cheng Qian sighed, "We're all people from the Old Era; to witness the opening of the New Era is also destiny."

Just then, the door opened and Zhou walked in. He wore a brand‑new Zhongshan suit, hair neatly combed, his face bearing his usual gentle smile.

"Good morning, generals," Zhou shook hands with each person; when it came to Li Yuxuan, he held on a moment longer. "Brother Jingxing, we're delighted you could come."

"Brother Xiangyu," Li Yuxuan asked, "In what capacity am I attending today?"

"Special Invited Representative," Zhou said. "The first plenary meeting of the Political Consultative Conference specially invited you to attend, and today's Founding Ceremony also specially invited you to observe. He set this personally."

Li Yuxuan nodded, feeling a bit conflicted. A Special Invited Representative—neither Master nor guest, but a unique observer.

"Everyone," Zhou glanced at his watch, "We'll depart for Tiananmen at 8:30. The ceremony begins at ten. Until then you may rest in the lounge or walk in the courtyard. At 9:40 he will come to meet everyone."

Having said that, he hurried away again; today he was one of the busiest people.