You were tasked with guarding the Sihang Warehouse, and you brought out a Tiger tank?

After returning home, Wang Fuhai had his maid fetch water to wash his face and ordered someone to bring out chilled watermelon.

He had the airs of a big landowner.

Sitting in the armchair, I ate two slices of iced watermelon before the heat in my heart subsided slightly.

But another sense of restlessness lingered.

Three thousand yuan in legal tender...

Wang Fuhai put down the melon rind, wiped his mouth with a silk handkerchief, and unconsciously tapped the armrest with his fingers.

To outsiders, the Wang family was the richest in Qing County, with land, shops, salt fields, and mining shares, totaling hundreds of thousands of silver dollars.

But that's about one's net worth.

Real estate, goods, and land rent—how easy is it to sell them for cash?

The family's daily working capital is only around tens of thousands of yuan.

Today, three thousand legal tender coins were given away in one fell swoop.

Distressed.

But Wang Fuhai quickly comforted himself, thinking that you can't catch a wolf without risking your cub.

Once things are settled by tomorrow night, with Lin Feng dead and the security force collapsing, we can get back the three thousand yuan, with interest.

And most of that 15,000 yuan donation will go to the Wang family.

Thinking about it that way made me feel much better.

"Master, the Third Young Master has arrived."

Butler Wang Fu reported softly.

Wang Fuhai raised his hand: "Let him in."

Wang Wenbo strode in, wearing a white shirt, crisp trousers, and shiny leather shoes; he looked every bit the part of someone who had studied abroad.

His face lit up with excitement: "Father!"

"Sit down." Wang Fuhai gestured to the chair beside him. "How are the preparations going?"

Wang Wenbo sat down and lowered his voice:

"Everything is settled. Ono-kun has been very generous this time, sending a full forty ronin, all of them retired soldiers, some of whom are veterans of the Kwantung Army. They are skilled marksmen and ruthless."

He paused, then lowered his voice even further: "We brought four large crates of weapons, three Type 99 light machine guns (pictured), three grenade launchers, and the rest were Type 38 rifles and hand grenades. That's enough."

Wang Fuhai nodded, but his brow furrowed slightly: "Where is he? Where is he now?"

"They arranged for us to stay in a large courtyard outside the western part of the city. That courtyard is secluded, surrounded by the Wang family's land, so no one would notice."

"Alright," Wang Fuhai instructed. "Treat them well tonight, with plenty of food and drink, but don't let them enter the city, and definitely don't let them go out and cause trouble. You know what kind of people these Japanese devils are... don't let them cause any trouble and ruin tomorrow's plans."

Wang Wenbo nodded: "I understand, I've already explained."

"Um."

Wang Fuhai took a sip of tea, pondered for a moment, and then said, "After it's done, send these people away as soon as possible. Give them plenty of money to shut them up."

He knew what kind of people these ronin were. They were called ronin, but they were actually just thugs and hooligans. After retiring from the military, they couldn't find any decent work, so they came to Daxia to work as thugs, collect protection money, and even sell opium.

This time, we paid them to do the job, and once they're done, we need to get rid of them quickly to avoid any complications.

"Don't worry, Dad, I've arranged everything." Wang Wenbo said confidently.

Looking at him, Wang Fuhai felt a surge of relief.

Although this youngest son was spoiled since childhood, he has indeed made progress during his years of studying in Japan.

At least, they are reliable in getting things done.

"Remember," Wang Fuhai leaned forward, his voice low, "The operation will take place tomorrow night. It must be swift and ruthless. That Lin Feng must die. We absolutely cannot let him live."

His eyes were cold:

"The remaining members of the security regiment are our family's future asset. Chaos is coming, and only with guns and men can we live comfortably. You studied abroad and understand military affairs, so you are the most suitable person to be the head of the security regiment."

Excitement flashed in Wang Wenbo's eyes: "Yes, Father."

The father and son discussed some details in hushed tones before Wang Wenbo got up and left.

As he walked out of the flower hall, his steps were light, as if he could already see himself in military uniform, sitting in the position of security regiment commander.

-----

July 6th, evening.

As dusk fell, the heat subsided slightly.

At the east gate of the county town, two policemen were yawning while leaning against the gate opening.

A younger man complained, "This awful weather is unbearably hot. And we have to stay out all night..."

The older man, puffing on his pipe and squinting, said, "Let's keep quiet. Didn't the Wang family give each of us two silver dollars? Consider it overtime pay."

Just then, footsteps came from afar.

The two looked up and saw Wang Wenbo leading a dozen men in short jackets over, followed by a group of men in dark blue overalls with buzz cuts, all with stern faces and sharp eyes.

The young policeman felt a chill run down his spine and instinctively reached for his gun.

The older policeman held him down, forcing a smile as he approached him.

"Young Master Wang, what's wrong...?"

"I have some business to take care of outside the city." Wang Wenbo said calmly, taking out a small cloth bag from his pocket and stuffing it into the hands of the older policeman. "Thank you both for your hard work."

The bag was heavy; it contained at least five silver dollars.

The older policeman smiled even more broadly: "It's no trouble at all. Take care, Young Master Wang."

He turned and winked at the young policeman, and the two stepped aside.

With a wave of his hand, Wang Wenbo sent dozens or even hundreds of people out in single file, quickly disappearing into the night outside the city gate.

The older policeman hefted the cloth bag and chuckled:

"See? That's what it means to know how to behave. The Wang family is never stingy when they make a move."

The young policeman, however, was somewhat uneasy.

"Brother Wang, those people behind us just now... they don't look like people from our Great Xia. They were speaking in a strange, broken language."

"Who cares?" The older policeman stuffed the bag into his coat pocket. "As long as I get the money, that's all that matters. Don't ask about anything else."

Outside the city, on a dirt road.

Wang Wenbo walked at the front, next to a short, stocky man in his thirties with a mustache and fierce eyes.

He was the leader of this group of ronin, Mifune Ichiro.

On the surface, he is a ronin, but in reality, he is an active-duty army second lieutenant who is specifically responsible for infiltration, bribery, and intelligence gathering in the Zhejiang Province of the Great Xia.

The two walked side by side when Mifune Ichiro suddenly spoke, his Chinese accent heavily accented:

"Wang Sang, the night view of your country is beautiful."

Wang Wenbo smiled and said, "Mr. Mifune, you flatter me."

Ichiro Mifune didn't say anything more, but he sneered inwardly.

nice?

He looked down on this place, and even more so on Wang Wenbo, who was standing next to him.

A young man who had studied abroad and attended a military academy actually led outsiders to kill his own compatriots in order to seize power and profit.

A typical traitor.

But Ichiro Mifune hid it well, always wearing a polite smile on his face.

It was precisely the infighting and lack of unity among the Bactrian people that gave the Yamato people the opportunity to expand.

After walking for more than a mile, a figure suddenly emerged from the woods by the roadside and quickly ran up to Wang Wenbo:

"Young Master."

They were informants planted by the Wang family near the security regiment's base.

"How is it?" Wang Wenbo asked anxiously.

"Reporting to the young master, the security regiment's men are exhausted from digging pits and shooting targets around the camp during the day. As soon as it gets dark, they all go back to their barracks to sleep, and the camp is quiet. There are only sentries at the main gate and the four corner guard towers, and they look quite sleepy, yawning all the time."

The eyeliner paused, then added, "I looked from afar, and the guns those militiamen had were still those old-fashioned Hanyang rifles with old-fashioned barrels; nothing had changed."

"good!"

Wang Wenbo's eyes lit up, and he turned to Mifune Ichiro and said:

"Mr. Mifune, the situation is as we expected. The security regiment just finished a battle and suffered heavy losses. The remaining soldiers are all new recruits with poor vigilance. Tonight is our opportunity."

Ichiro Mifune nodded, but inwardly he felt a sense of disdain.

Even a good-for-nothing like him has to rely on himself.

But he said aloud, "Don't worry, Mr. Wang, leave it to us."

Wang Wenbo ordered everyone to extinguish their torches and proceed in the dark.

Ichiro Mifune then commanded the ronin to be divided into three teams: one team with grenade launchers, one team with two light machine guns to provide suppression, and the last team of more than 20 men to be responsible for the main attack.

Soon, the outline of the security regiment's camp appeared in the night.

The large courtyard was enclosed by earthen walls, with wooden guard towers at the four corners, each with a lantern hanging on it, from which the figures of sentries could be vaguely seen.

The main gate was tightly closed, but there were lights on the gate tower.

Ichiro Mifune gave a hand signal, and the ronin silently dispersed, slowly approaching under the cover of night.

About four or five hundred meters from the camp, Mifune Ichiro stopped behind a small earthen slope and raised his binoculars to observe.

By the moonlight, you can see the sentries on the watchtower.

There were also several sentries at the gate.

everything is normal.

Ichiro Mifune lowered his binoculars, a cold smile playing on his lips.

This level of vigilance is downright ridiculous.

He waved behind him.

The grenade launcher team immediately moved forward another 300 meters, found a good position, set up the grenade launchers, adjusted the angle, and aimed at the gate.

Two machine gunners also set up their light machine guns and aimed them at the guard post.

The remaining ronin drew their bayonets, mounted them on their rifles, and prepared to charge.

Mifune Ichiro whispered to Wang Wenbo:

"Wang Sang, open fire with the grenade launchers first to take out the sentries at the gate. Suppress the guard tower with machine guns, then the assault team will rush in and set fires to create chaos. Once things get chaotic inside, you lead your men in and kill Lin Feng."

Wang Wenbo nodded vigorously: "Okay!"

He had a plan in mind: once inside, he needed to find where the money was hidden. He had to get back the 15,000 yuan donation from yesterday.

Without saying another word, Mifune Ichiro led the assault team forward at a low crouch for a while, then turned to look at the grenade launcher team in the distance, raised his right hand, and prepared to give the order.

Just then—

call out--

A whooshing sound, like an object rapidly rubbing against the air, rang out.

Mifune Ichiro was stunned.

That voice... it's so familiar.

This is the sound a grenade fired from a grenade launcher makes as it flies through the air.

But I haven't given the order yet.

and many more……

wrong.

The sound came from the opposite direction, from the direction of the security regiment's station.

Moreover, listen to that increasingly closer and more piercing shriek...

The shells were aimed at them.