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

Two hours later.

Tianjin, British Concession, the Young Marshal's temporary headquarters.

The main lights were not on in the study on the second floor; only a table lamp was lit.

Zhang Hanqing, wearing a bathrobe, sat on the sofa, holding the confidential newsletter that Lao Tan had just brought in.

Old Tan stood before his desk, barely daring to breathe, his forehead drenched in cold sweat. He asked in a low voice, "Commander, it looks like a rebellion is brewing in Luanzhou. Guo Maochen has joined forces with Feng Huanzhang, intending to use the pretext of 'purging the court of corrupt officials' to march back to Fengtian. We're still in Tianjin, with only one guard. Should we immediately send a telegram to the old marshal in Beiping, or should you return to Luanzhou tonight and, before they make a move, find an opportunity to kill that devil Guo?!"

Zhang Hanqing did not answer.

With his head down, his gaze swept over the dozen or so familiar names on the note.

If it were six months ago, seeing his most trusted teacher and deputy leading the Third Army Corps, which he had personally trained, in a rebellion, he would have been so angry that he would have vomited blood on the spot, and rushed over with his gun to fight Guo Songling to the death.

But now, Zhang Hanqing showed no anger at being betrayed, not even a furrow of his brow.

In his mind, the words his elder brother Lin Qi had said, patting him on the shoulder, before he left Shanghai echoed:

My uncle is getting old...

Real opportunities often lie hidden in dire straits and crises! At crucial moments, you must make good use of your Third Army, and even more importantly, leverage the reputation you've gained in Shanghai!

In fact, he had been wary of Guo Songling for a long time.

Several months ago in Fengtian, his elder brother had subtly reminded him that Guo Songling was a stubborn and arrogant person who could not stand being wronged, and that he should keep a backup plan.

Therefore, as early as six months ago, he planted a spy in the Third Army Corps who only obeyed his orders.

The key point is that this mole was ostensibly one of Guo Songling's men, and even ranked relatively high among his confidants.

Guo Songling returned from Japan a couple of days ago. The reason he deliberately put on a cold and impatient face was not because he was confused, but because he did it on purpose!

He personally threw the last match into Guo Songling's powder keg!

Zhang Hanqing knew exactly what was going on.

If Guo Songling hadn't been allowed to rebel, the old man would have always believed he was in good health and had a brilliant mind, and would never have relinquished control of the Northeast.

If Guo Songling doesn't lead his army back to the Northeast and crush Yang Yuting, Zhang Zongchang, and other arrogant and ruthless generals and old-school warlords, and completely destroy the old foundation of the Fengtian clique, even if he takes over in the future, he won't be able to control these uncles who only have their father in their eyes!

More importantly, my father had just signed a ten million yen indentured contract with the Japanese, using the railway and mining rights in the three northeastern provinces as collateral.

Only by taking advantage of the crisis caused by Guo Songling's rebellion against Fengtian and the resulting chaos in Northeast China, and by stepping forward as a national hero to quell the rebellion in one fell swoop, and taking over the entire Northeast from his father's control, can he quickly and decisively eliminate the mess and eradicate the malignant tumor!

"Send electricity to Beiping? Execute Guo Maochen?"

Zhang Hanqing raised his head, looked at Old Tan's anxious face, and slowly curled the corners of his mouth upward. He shook his head and said, "Old Tan, I finally managed to push Mao Chen to this point. If I kill him now, who will smash those old guys' jars and pots in Fengtian City for me?"

Old Tan trembled, his face filled with disbelief. Was this still the young marshal he knew?

Looking at the young marshal sitting in the shadows, he felt that the person in front of him was so unfamiliar that it terrified him.

Zhang Hanqing held up two fingers, pinching the paper between them, and used his other hand to light it.

The orange flames licked the corner of the paper and spread rapidly.

"Pass on my order: withdraw all our spies and informants. Don't alert the enemy."

Zhang Hanqing watched as the note in his hand turned to ashes, the firelight reflecting in his deep eyes. His voice was as soft as a breeze: "Let Guo Maochen focus on building up his army and make a big fuss. We'll prepare food and wine and quietly watch him burn this fire back to Fengtian."

……

The next morning, before the night had completely faded.

Zhang Hanqing, wearing a military overcoat, walked down the steps of the villa and got into the back seat.

"Train station, back to Beiping."

Zhang Hanqing said to Old Tan in the front row.

Old Tan glanced back: "Commander, what about Luanzhou..."

"Don't worry about Luanzhou."

Zhang Hanqing leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes: "If I stay in Tianjin, Guo Maochen will always have doubts and hesitate to take real action. Only if I return to Beiping and persuade the old marshal to return to Fengtian, thus freeing up the interior, can he fully unleash his power to put on this grand show."

The car started and drove towards Tianjin Laolongtou Railway Station.

Three hours later, the special train arrived at Qianmen Station in Beiping.

Zhang Hanqing went directly into Zhongnanhai by car.

The study at Jurentang was filled with the smell of tobacco, even though the windows were closed.

Zhang Zuolin, wearing a silk vest, stood in front of the long table, staring at the defense map spread out on it.

The troops that had retreated from Jiangnan had just stabilized their position in the Yanzhou and Tai'an areas of Shandong. The inventory of guns and ammunition was piled up on the right, a thick stack.

The door opened, and Zhang Hanqing walked in, taking off his military cap and hanging it on the coat rack.

Zhang Zuolin raised his eyelids and glanced at him, then slammed his pipe on the edge of the table: "Why come all the way to Beiping if you're not going to listen to your operas in Tianjin?"

Zhang Hanqing didn't argue back as usual.

He walked to the coffee table, picked up the thermos, and refilled Zhang Zuolin's covered bowl with hot water.

"Dad, have some tea to soothe your throat first."

Zhang Hanqing smiled and pulled up a chair to sit down. "It's been more than half a year since my son and I led the troops out of the pass. A few days ago, we received a letter from the Marshal's Mansion in Fengtian. Several of the mothers in the letter kept saying that the house was lonely and they missed you. If you ask me, it's time for us to go back to Fengtian to visit."

Zhang Zuolin paused, his hand holding the teacup still, his eyes widening: "Return to Fengtian? Return my ass!"

He slammed his teacup on the table, pointed at the map, and cursed, "Sun Chuanfang just occupied Xuzhou in the south, and Feng Huanzhang in Chahar in the north is eyeing Beijing and Tianjin with his eyes wide open! If I pack my bags and head back to Fengtian now, who's going to look after all this mess inside the Great Wall? You? You're not coming back no matter what!"

"Father, don't rush to scold me. Let me explain the situation to you."

Zhang Hanqing stood up, walked to the table, and pointed to Jiangsu and Shanghai on the map.

"The situation in the south has actually been settled. Although Sun Chuanfang won this time, his five-province allied army was just a cobbled-together ragtag force. Having just taken Jiangsu and Shanghai, he'll be busy for half a year just taking over the defense zones, reorganizing the tax system in Shanghai and Nanjing, dealing with the foreigners in the concessions, and appeasing the local gentry. Plus, he's run out of ammunition. At this critical juncture, even if he had ten times the courage, he would never dare to continue his campaign northward."

Zhang Zuolin snorted, didn't interrupt, picked up his pipe and started stuffing tobacco into it.

"As for Feng Huanzhang in the north, he has just taken gold bars and places like Baoding and Daming, so he still has to put on a show of being a pushover."

"On the contrary, it's our Fengtian Army's hometown. Father, you've been away from Fengtian for more than half a year, and the administration and finances of the three provinces outside the Great Wall have all relied on your subordinates to pass on memorials. Now that we've suffered a defeat in Jiangnan, the people outside the Great Wall are restless, and all sorts of rumors are flying around in Fengtian. It's really not appropriate for you to stay in Beiping for so long without going back."

Zhang Hanqing struck a match and lit it in front of his pipe: "Besides, our main forces are all at the front lines right now, and we only have a few guards left in Beiping. As the commander-in-chief, you can't personally engage in bayonet fighting here. Why not take advantage of the lull in fighting between the two sides and go back to Fengtian to take command? This will not only reassure the people outside the Great Wall, but also allow us to supervise the arsenal and procure provisions and supplies. Once we've made up for our deficits and have enough strength, we can turn around and deal with Sun Chuanfang next spring. Wouldn't that be better than wasting our time in Beiping?"

Zhang Zuolin took two puffs of his pipe and exhaled puffs of white smoke.