Did he trick the young marshal into becoming sworn brothers and then go south to Huangpu Military Ac

The leading Soviet advisor was named Pavlov, who had extremely high cheekbones and deep-set eyes.

Upon hearing the door open, the three members of the advisory group turned around and looked Lin Qi up and down with an arrogant gaze, as if looking down on backward natives.

The translator quickly stood up, wiped his sweat, and began to introduce the topic.

"This is Dr. Lin Tuozhi, the vice principal and quartermaster of the Whampoa Military Academy."

After listening to the translation, Pavlov raised an eyebrow, stuffed the cheap cigarette in his hand into his mouth, and took a deep drag.

He let out a disdainful snort in Russian.

A scholar who's never worn a military uniform? In charge of logistics?

Pavlov leaned back on the sofa, legs crossed, exuding arrogance.

He didn't take Lin Qi seriously at all, and showed no intention of getting up to shake hands.

Lin Qi stood by the door, not walking over, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

Want to be an emperor emeritus? You'd better know whose territory this is.

If we don't break the backbone of these polar bears today, the Whampoa Military Academy will only be able to follow the Soviets' lead.

Ignoring the translator's nervousness, Lin Qi walked straight to the single sofa opposite Pavlov, sat down without saying a word, and stared intently into the other man's eyes with a piercing gaze.

A bloodless battle has officially begun.

The air in the reception room seemed to freeze.

No, there was no air in the room, only suffocating cigar smoke and the aura of condescending power.

Pavlov sat in the center of the European-style sofa, his legs crossed, his Russian-style high-top leather boots, stained with mud from the riverbank, directly on the expensive carpet.

He was a true soldier who had fought in World War I and the Russian Civil War, and his high cheekbones revealed the coldness and hardness characteristic of the Slavs.

Chiang Kai-shek sat to the side, his military uniform ramrod straight, his back taut like a javelin, but his hands, resting on his knees, were clenched into fists, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

The translator next to him was sweating profusely, constantly wiping his forehead with a crumpled handkerchief, his lips trembling.

"Chairman, General Pavlov said..."

The translator swallowed hard and said in a very low voice, "The training syllabus for the new army must be copied verbatim from the Soviet Red Army's infantry regulations. In addition, the tactical instructors at the company and platoon levels must be Soviet officers from the advisory group; otherwise, the army's combat effectiveness cannot be guaranteed."

Chiang Kai-shek gritted his teeth, suppressing his anger.

"Go tell him that the Whampoa Military Academy is a people's military academy. The syllabus can be used as a reference, but it must not be copied. We can hire an advisory group to guide the instructors, but the company and platoon-level officers in charge of troops must be our own people."

The translator nervously translated the words into Russian.

Upon hearing this, Pavlov frowned sharply, waved his cigarette in mid-air, and uttered a long string of Russian words spoken at an extremely fast pace and in a very stern tone.

The translator shuddered in fright, turned to look at Chiang Kai-shek, and looked troubled.

"The general said... the general said that the 10,000 rifles and 2 million rounds of ammunition that were transported are Soviet property, and the right to distribute them must belong to the advisory group. Only students who pass the advisory group's ideological examination can receive the weapons. If your side does not agree, these weapons will be towed back to Vladivostok on the same ship today."

boom.

Chiang Kai-shek slammed his hand on the coffee table, making the teacups on it clang loudly.

This is outrageous!

This isn't about helping build an army; it's about bypassing the Grand Marshal's Office and him, the chairman of the preparatory committee, to turn this yet-to-be-born army into a vassal state under the absolute control of the Soviet Union.

If even the power to fire guns is taken away, wouldn't Chiang Kai-shek become a commander without troops, a puppet only responsible for stamping documents?

"This infringes upon our sovereignty in establishing our military."

Chiang Kai-shek stood up and glared at Pavlov: "The guns were aid that you and your country agreed upon. Once they arrive in Guangzhou, how they are distributed is up to our headquarters."

Pavlov completely ignored Chiang Kai-shek's anger.

He slowly took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled a thick smoke ring, and a cold, extremely contemptuous smile curled at the corner of his mouth. Without even having the translator relay his words, he spoke directly to Chiang Kai-shek in broken English.

"Sovereignty? Without our guns, without our rubles. Your Guangzhou headquarters doesn't even have a decent arsenal, you're just refurbishing old Qing dynasty weapons, what makes you think you can talk about sovereignty? Without us, you can't even train a regiment of modern infantry."

Pavlov spread his hands, leaned back on the sofa, and adopted an extremely arrogant posture.

"Accept the terms, or watch your military academy go bankrupt."

Chiang Kai-shek's face turned purplish-red, his chest heaving violently. He wanted to overturn the table and draw his gun.

Reason held his hand firmly. Pavlov was right. The headquarters was too poor and its resources were too weak. Without these Russian guns, what would the students use to train when the military academy opened in May?

Humiliation, an extreme sense of humiliation, gnawed at the heart of this future tycoon like a venomous snake.

Lin Qi remained seated on the single sofa by the door, silent and motionless.

His deep gaze pierced through the smoke, coldly observing the arrogant polar bears.

My mind is like a clear mirror, bright and transparent.

He understood all too well why Pavlov was so fearless.

In the original historical timeline, the Whampoa Military Academy was indeed created through the financial and military support of the Soviet Union.

From the Eastern Expedition against Chen Jiongming to the Northern Expedition to the Central Plains, the new army composed of Whampoa Military Academy graduates achieved several victories after defeats, entirely thanks to the personal micromanagement and logistical coordination of senior Soviet advisors such as Galen.

Without the Soviets acting as caretakers, the Whampoa Military Academy in the original timeline would have been stillborn long ago, and its headquarters would have been devoured by various warlords, leaving not even scraps. The Soviets knew the South's weakness and were certain that the Master had nowhere to go, which is why they dared to act like an emperor emeritus.

The times have changed.

Lin Qi picked up the teacup beside him and took a small sip of the cold tea.

In this time and space, a monster named Lin Tuozhi appeared.

He was in charge of the Ishii Arsenal, which was operating at full speed and could soon produce high-purity smokeless gunpowder. His mind was filled with infantry-artillery coordination tactics and the foundation of mechanized industry that were a full hundred years ahead of this era.

Lin Qi didn't care about the Soviets' politically shackled charity, nor did he need to indulge them.

boom.

Lin Qi slammed the teacup heavily on the table. The sound wasn't loud, but it was unusually crisp in the reception room.

He stood up, strode directly to Pavlov, and looked down at him, blocking the light coming in from the window.

Pavlov frowned, about to reprimand the scholar who wasn't wearing a military uniform.

A string of extremely fluent, perfectly enunciated Russian, even with a Moscow aristocratic accent, came coldly from Lin Qi's mouth.

"General Pavlov, take your boots off our carpet."

The meeting room fell into a deathly silence.

The translator's eyes widened, and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

Chiang Kai-shek was also stunned. He had no idea that his sworn brother could speak such fluent Russian.

Pavlov's hand, holding a cigarette, froze in mid-air. The impeccable Moscow accent gave him the illusion of being back at a high-level military conference in his home country.

"You understand Russian."

Pavlov lowered his leg, his expression softening slightly, but still firm: "Since you understand, you should advise your principal to face reality."

Lin Qi sneered and didn't respond to his words.

He turned and walked to a long wooden crate next to him, which contained a crate of sample guns that the Soviets had brought today.

He bent down, picked up a Mosin-Nagant rifle covered in butter from the box with one hand, and with practiced ease, pulled back the bolt and ejected the magazine with a click.

"Type 1891, Mosin-Nagant, 7.62 mm caliber."

Lin Qi held a brass bullet, walked up to Pavlov, and slammed the bullet heavily onto the coffee table.

"General Pavlov, you're trading these fire sticks with fatal design flaws for control of our new army at headquarters. You've done a very shrewd job."

Pavlov's expression changed drastically, and he sat up abruptly.

"Nonsense. These are the standard weapons of the great Red Army, which won the civil war."

"You guys are just lucky."

Lin Qi ruthlessly pulled down the bottom of the Soviet-supplied weapon, pointing to the protruding edge of the bullet's tail on the coffee table.

"Rim-locked cartridges, with this outdated cartridge case design, can cause a serious jam if the rim of the upper cartridge falls behind the lower cartridge when it is being chambered. This is called rim jamming."

Lin Qi's voice was cold, like an emotionless industrial machine.

"New recruits are under immense pressure on the battlefield. If their hands tremble while loading the magazine, the gun becomes useless. The German Mauser 98 already uses rimless cartridge cases, resulting in an extremely smooth feed. You're using this obsolete equipment that can easily kill soldiers at critical moments to act as some kind of savior."