Chapter 83: Return to Xuzhou

A day later, the smoke of battle over Jinan City had not yet cleared, and a faint scent of gunpowder still lingered in the air. Li Yuxuan stood by the window of the command post, gazing toward the new graves on the distant hill, his fingertips tracing shallow scratches on the sill. The Adjutant slipped in quietly, handed him a telegram, and whispered, "Chairman, the Chairman sent a telegram saying… that you should get back to Xuzhou."

The handwriting on the telegram was sharp, bearing unabashed fury; each character struck Li Yuxuan's heart like a whip. He took the telegram, without even looking at it, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the charcoal brazier. The flame licked the paper bundle, instantly turning the rebuke to ash, yet it could not burn away the heaviness in the air.

"Sigh, never mind, never mind," he waved his hand, his voice laden with an indescribable fatigue, "You may go down."

"Yes, Chairman." The Adjutant slipped away, leaving space for this General Officer about to face the storm.

Only Li Yuxuan remained in the command post; the operational map on the wall still bore the marks of the Jinan campaign, and the area of Shangbu circled in red ink looked like an unhealed scar. He knew that what awaited him back in Xuzhou would not be commendation, perhaps reprimand, maybe even a harsher penalty such as disbanding the Fifth Army on the spot. Yet those seemed irrelevant now; what mattered was that the blood debt of Jinan had finally been repaid.

"What's wrong? Li, you seem a bit upset," a familiar voice broke the silence. Rommel pushed the door open, followed by Guderian, Manstein and others; they had just returned from the infirmary, and the scent of disinfectant still clung to their uniforms.

Li Yuxuan turned, forcing a smile, "It's nothing, the Chairman told me to go back."

The few exchanged glances, each seeing understanding in the other's eyes. Rommel walked to Li Yuxuan's side and patted his shoulder, "Don't overthink it; before you go back there's still time." He blinked, his tone tinged with a hint of mystery, "We discussed it and will take you out for a walk."

"Go out?" Li Yuxuan was taken aback, "Where on earth is there any scenery to see now." Inside and outside Jinan City lay a wasteland of scorched earth, with only broken walls and fresh graves to look at.

"Hahaha, just come with us," Guderian laughed, waving his hand, and without further ado hauled him outward, "I guarantee you'll be surprised."

Li Yuxuan was half‑dragged, half‑pulled out of the command post; though doubts lingered in his mind, a spark of curiosity arose. These German Advisors were usually meticulous, rarely so casual.

An hour later, on a vacant lot on the outskirts of Jinan City, two gleaming DAP motorcycles stood quietly parked. Their black paint shone in the sunlight, and the brass handlebars flashed with a metallic cold gleam, instantly revealing them as meticulously maintained treasures.

"Where did you get these DAPs?" Li Yuxuan looked at the motorcycles, his eyes flashing slightly. DAP motorcycles are a masterpiece of German military craftsmen, durable and astonishingly fast; he had only seen one at a Shanghai trading house in 1926, but these were different. He hadn't expected to find them outside Jinan City.

"Obviously we bought them," Karl Dönitz patted the seat, producing a dull thud, "We sourced them from the German trading house in Qingdao, and it cost a fair amount of silver."

Rommel stepped to the center of the area and traced a starting line on the ground with his foot, "Today we race, consider it… a celebration of the victory at the Battle of Jinan." He looked at Li Yuxuan, a sly smile in his eyes, "Teams of three start from here, loop around the hill ahead three times; whoever reaches the finish first wins."

Li Yuxuan stared at the winding, undulating mountain road, a flicker of apprehension in his mind, "The road is far from smooth; riding a bike would be too dangerous."

"Danger is what makes it exciting," Goering had already straddled a motorcycle, the engine emitting a "Vroom" sound like a beast poised to strike, "Li, sit with me and Karl Dönitz, I'll drive."

Rommel leapt onto another bike, patted the rear seat, "Guderian, Manstein and I will form a team; we'll make sure you all see what real riding skill looks like."

Guderian sat in the middle, Manstein at the rear, the three adjusted their posture, the helmet straps rattling in the wind.

"Ready?" Rommel raised his right hand.

"Of course!" Goering twisted the throttle sharply, the motorcycle's front wheel lifting slightly, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Li Yuxuan inhaled deeply, clutching Goering's lapel. He knew these German Advisors wanted to use this method to let him temporarily forget his worries, yet his heartbeat still quickened.

"Go!"

With Rommel's command, the two motorcycles shot forward like arrows released from a bow. The engine's "Vroom" tore through the outskirts' silence, the wheels grinding over the gravel road, emitting a harsh screech.

Goering's riding skill was indeed astounding; on the rugged mountain road he moved as if on flat ground, slamming the throttle on steep slopes so the bike's side nearly stood vertical to the earth, causing Li Yuxuan to shut his eyes tightly. "Don't panic, Li, I'm confident in my riding," Goering's voice carried on the wind, a hint of pride, "Look at Rommel's bike, it's almost touching the ground."

Li Yuxuan opened his eyes and indeed saw Rommel's motorcycle tilting at a sharp turn, the bike's side nearly scraping the ground, while Guderian and Manstein clung tightly to the seat, excited smiles on their faces.

The two bikes chased each other on the mountain road, a display of speed and passion. The wind howled in his ears, trees lining the path seemed to fly backward, and Li Yuxuan felt his heart about to burst from his chest; the earlier worries and repression were swept away by the gale, leaving only raw thrill and release.

But the accident still occurred. At the final bend, Goering, trying to overtake Rommel, yanked the handlebars hard, and the bike instantly lost balance. "Damn, the bike's flipping!" Li Yuxuan shouted, instinctively clinging to Goering.

"Slow down, Goering!"

"Don't panic!" Goering tried to correct the direction, but it was too late. A "Clang!" rang out as the motorcycle crashed heavily to the ground, the three rolled together; fortunately the roadside grass cushioned the impact, preventing serious injury.

Almost simultaneously, Rommel's bike, trying to avoid them, lost control and toppled on a nearby earthen slope.

Li Yuxuan struggled to his feet, covered in mud, his arms scraped raw and bleeding. He looked at the overturned motorcycles and the equally disheveled group, both angry and laughing, "Damn, I shouldn't have come out racing with you. It was terrifying; I told you it would flip, I told you to slow down."

Goering got up from the ground, brushed the mud off himself, and defended himself confidently, "It's not my fault, it's the road's fault. Look how riddled with pits this path is; anyone would flip."

Rommel and the others came over; Guderian had a lump on his forehead, Manstein's glasses had a leg broken, yet all laughed heartily. "How was it, Li, exciting?" Rommel patted his shoulder, the force nearly knocking him over.

Li Yuxuan looked at their smiles and suddenly felt the massive stone in his heart loosen a bit.

As the sun set in the west, their shadows stretched long. They pushed the overturned motorcycles back, their laughter echoing across the open countryside, temporarily dispersing the war's gloom and the weight of politics.

Li Yuxuan knew that tomorrow he would still have to return to Xuzhou, still face the Chairman's wrath, still walk that thorn‑laden path. But for now, he only wanted to remember this brief ease—perhaps this is what people call a man remaining a boy until death.