On the eve of the fall of Liaodong, he led his troops in a remonstrance against the young marshal.

"Commander-in-Chief, a call from Nanjing."

"It was personally signed by He Yingqin, ordering us to immediately cease fire and withdraw from the Japanese concession."

"What?"

Cai Tingkai grabbed the telegram and read the entire text by the cold light of the rooftop lamp.

His face changed several times in an instant, from anger to ashen, from ashen to pale, and finally solidified into a feeling of frustration.

He gripped the telegram tightly in his hand, his knuckles cracking, and the veins on the back of his hand bulging out one by one.

He Yingqin.

The telegram was brief, but every word was like a knife, cutting into his heart.

"According to a report from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the ministers of the United Kingdom, France and the United States in China have jointly lodged a strong protest with our country, accusing the 19th Route Army of violating international conventions and harming the safety and legitimate rights and interests of their nationals in China by storming into the Japanese concession."

"The three governments demanded that our country immediately cease all military operations in the Japanese concession and withdraw its troops outside the concession."

"Otherwise, the three countries will consider taking all necessary measures, including economic sanctions."

"Furthermore, the White Bear side has also expressed serious concern through diplomatic channels, implying that if the situation escalates further, it will be forced to take corresponding actions on the northeastern border."

"In order to safeguard the overall diplomatic situation of the country, the 19th Route Army is ordered to immediately cease fire and withdraw to the original defense line in Zhabei to await further orders."

If it were just Japanese soldiers, Cai Tingkai wouldn't even blink.

He fought the Japanese in Zhabei for a day and a night. He was not afraid of the Japanese planes, artillery, or tanks, nor was he afraid of the Japanese bayonet charges.

His troops have now entered the Japanese concession and have completely surrounded Matsui Iwane's headquarters.

Give him just one more night, no, maybe just a few hours, and he can raze the Hongkou Command Headquarters to the ground and hang Matsui Iwane's head on the flagpole at Zhabei Railway Station.

But if it involves Britain, France, and the United States, plus the White Bear, then it's a different story.

He was rapidly calculating in his mind:

Britain, France, and the United States had troops and warships stationed in Hucheng, backed by the military power of the entire Western powers.

Needless to say, the White Bear is a potential threat. There could be a conflict at any time on the northeastern border. If the White Bear is drawn in because of the battle at Tojo, what will happen to the northeast?

He could disregard He Yingqin and ignore the orders from the Ministry of Military Affairs, but the combined pressure from Britain, France, and the United States, and the diplomatic threats from the White Bear, were not something a mere commander-in-chief of the 19th Route Army could withstand.

On a grand scale, this concerns the overall diplomatic situation of the Republic of China; on a smaller scale, if it really provokes international sanctions, Tsai Ting-kai will be a sinner for all time.

Jiang Guangnai took the telegram from Cai Tingkai, read it twice from beginning to end, and slowly lowered his head.

As chief of staff, he was more aware of the urgency of the battlefield situation than Cai Tingkai.

Now is the most critical moment. The morale of the 19th Route Army has reached its peak, and the Japanese Marine Corps' defenses have collapsed by 70%.

The headquarters and the Gongda Cotton Mill were like two rotten fruits that were about to fall; they could be picked with just a little more effort.

However, if a retreat is ordered at this time, allowing the Japanese to catch their breath, and their reinforcements arrive, the 19th Route Army will have no chance of advancing.

The first burst of energy is followed by a decline, and the third exhaustion. The brothers of the 19th Route Army have fought to their limit. If this momentum is lost, all the battles fought these past few days will be in vain.

Jiang Guangnai seemed to have thought of something, suddenly looked up at Cai Tingkai, remained silent for a moment, and then tentatively spoke:

"Commander-in-Chief, this is a huge problem, we can't handle it. Perhaps... we could ask the Dean?"

Cai Tingkai's eyes lit up instantly.

Yes, Zhang Xueliang. He is currently the Premier of the Executive Yuan, the nominal highest administrative official in China, and the only person legally superior to He Yingqin.

He Yingqin's Ministry of Military Affairs was part of the Chairman's power base, but the Chairman had already stepped down.

As long as Zhang Xueliang gives his approval, Cai Tingkai will have the confidence to continue fighting.

"Send a telegram!"

Cai Tingkai practically roared, "Send a telegram to the dean immediately! Tell him everything that's happening here!"

"Tell him where we've reached, tell him the attitudes of Britain, France, the United States, and the White Bear, tell him that He Yingqin has repeatedly pressured us to withdraw! Don't miss a single word!"

.........

Shanhaiguan.

The railway tracks stretched southward, disappearing into the twilight of early winter.

The special train spewed out white steam, and the rhythmic thud of its wheels rolling over the rails echoed through the carriages.

The stove inside the carriage was burning brightly, the iron stove glowing slightly red, and the heat filled the carriage, with a thin layer of fog forming on the windows.

Zhang Xueliang sat by the window, wrapped in a thick woolen overcoat, staring blankly at the rapidly receding plains outside.

Outside the window is winter in Hebei. The fields are withered and yellow, the trees are bare, and occasionally a village flashes by with a thin layer of snow on the roof and a few wisps of smoke rising from the chimney.

He had already entered Shanhaiguan, which meant he had truly left Northeast China.

Northeast China is his home, his roots, and the place where he has lived for thirty years.

And now, he is getting further and further away from that black soil.

But he has no time to be sentimental about these things; he is preoccupied with matters of state.

Before him lay a map of East China. He slowly picked up the kerosene lamp and carefully examined the map of Hucheng, just like Prime Minister Zhuge Liang, who devoted himself to the cause until his death.

The Japanese attacking Hucheng was clearly a slap in the face to him.

Before he had even officially taken office, the Japanese were already eager to set fire to the city.

They are telling all of China that the Premier you elected is a coward who can't even protect his own territory.

"Oh shit."

Zhang Xueliang cursed through gritted teeth, and his adjutant Tan Hai, sitting opposite him, heard it clearly.

Tan Hai had followed Zhang Xueliang for over a decade and rarely heard the young marshal swear.

He wasn't like this before. In the past, when faced with such a situation, he would only sigh and curl up in his tiger-skin recliner, watching people smoke opium.

But after fighting several battles alongside Zhang Xueming and witnessing firsthand the Japanese being crushed to dust in Fengcheng and beheaded in Lushun, Zhang Xueliang's fear of the Japanese had subsided considerably.

Although he was still the indecisive young marshal at heart, at least now he dared to curse the Japanese devils without hesitation.

He even dared to think to himself after he finished cursing:

You better not wait until I get to Hucheng, or I'll make sure you regret it.

He dared to think this way because he knew that Zhang Xueming was standing behind him.

My second brother is invincible. With him backing me up, what do I have to be afraid of?

Thinking of this, Zhang Xueliang felt a little better.

He picked up the hot tea on the table, took a sip, and was about to put the teacup down when Zhan Lang walked in, clutching a newly translated telegram in his hand:

"Dean, this is an urgent telegram from Hucheng, sent directly to you by Cai Tingkai of the 19th Route Army."

"It's definitely good news!"

Zhang Xueliang received the telegram with a broad smile.

But when he saw what was written on it, his expression froze instantly.