Inside the Northeast Office in Beijing, Director Xi Bale chatted with the secretary of the British Minister to China, Sir John Jordan, for a short while before stopping to check the clock. He offered a suggestion, "It's noon. Stay for a meal."

Jordan's secretary froze, his instinct screaming to refuse, when he heard Xi Bale add, "We have spicy hotpot."

The secretary felt the muscles in his face begin to twitch involuntarily. The Northeast Office had previously held a banquet inviting various diplomats. Xi Bale, being a native of Sichuan, had prepared spicy hotpot. The red soup base contained a massive amount of Sichuan peppercorns. Including the secretary, every person who had bravely challenged this food had found their facial muscles trembling from the flavor.

However, the food cooked in that red pot seemed to possess a magical quality. Whether it was duck intestines, duck blood, tofu, or meat slices, the taste presented an irresistible allure. It was truly a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Recalling that sensation, the secretary felt fear, yet he found himself unable to refuse.

Xi Bale laughed with a British accent flavored with Sichuan dialect, "Don't be afraid. Once you start eating, there's nothing to worry about."

Jordan's secretary could only console himself silently: *this is the price that must be paid to obtain intelligence on the Soviet Red Army.* He stood up, wearing an expression of tragic heroism, and followed Xi Bale to the Office's dining hall.

Though called a dining hall, it was actually a restaurant. It was divided into front and back sections; the respectable front store was open to the public, while the simple rear dining area provided meals for Office staff during lunch and dinner.

They sat down in a small room, and before long, the hotpot arrived. Summoning his courage, the secretary first cooked a slice of Northeast-produced luncheon meat in the boiling red soup. He ate it with a slight frown, followed by a piece of duck blood. Then came several chunks of fish from the Northeast.

By the time he started eating the meat slices, the secretary had entered a state of fearlessness. Although he hadn't reached the level of daring to drink the soup directly, throwing green vegetables straight into the pot no longer scared him.

Xi Bale quite liked the British secretary's character. In some ways, this fellow was truly British—putting on airs on the outside, but clear-headed inside. A smart man.

As they drank *baijiu* and grew slightly tipsy, Xi Bale asked, "Has London lost confidence in supporting Kolchak?"

The secretary seemed not to hear the question. He picked up a plate of potatoes and dumped half of the potato slices into the hotpot. He suppressed a hiccup before saying, "Does the Northeast Government have high expectations for Kolchak?"

Xi Bale chuckled lightly. "Heh, in that case, what does Mr. Jordan wish to know?"

"Mr. Jordan wishes to know what has happened, and then convey that news back to London."

Xi Bale could be reasonably certain that the Russian Provisional Government represented by Kolchak had been abandoned. Or rather, given up on. In the Northeast Government's assessment, Kolchak was not only incapable of achieving victory, but he couldn't even hold the Far East.

As he considered how to phrase it, he saw the British secretary take off his vest. In the September weather, he was wearing only a shirt soaked with sweat. Xi Bale offered, "Shall I get you a tank top?"

The secretary shook his head. "Mr. Xi, regarding the information you've received, how many troops has the Red Army dispatched?"

"I truly don't know that. Do you have an estimate?"

"You speak first," the secretary refused to yield.

Xi Bale spoke slowly, "My own guess is 200,000 men."

The secretary wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and asked in confusion, "The fighting in Poland is fierce. Can the Red Army still mobilize 100,000 troops?"

"I heard the Bolsheviks have conscripted five million men," Xi Bale recounted the information.

"Truly a brutal regime that engages in militaristic aggression," the secretary sighed. After speaking, he ate a leaf of green vegetable before asking, "Northern China is currently suffering from a drought. Hearing of this, citizens of my country wish to donate to the Northeast."

Xi Bale rejected it without hesitation. "The Northeast has the capacity to handle the disaster situation. If there are donations, please direct them to the Central Government of the Republic."

Even though he was rejected, the secretary felt no displeasure. Instead, he raised his glass. "Personally speaking, I feel great admiration for the Northeast Government's efforts in disaster relief."

***

The meal concluded, and the secretary left in a drunken stupor. Xi Bale had also drunk a bit too much and felt dizzy. However, he persisted in his work and wrote a report. Afterward, he lay down on the bed in the adjacent lounge and fell asleep.

When he woke up, it was already evening. Taking advantage of the cool night breeze, Xi Bale returned to his office, took out the unfinished 'Northern Drought Report,' and continued working.

Recalling the drought conditions he had witnessed with his own eyes, Xi Bale paused occasionally. Born in Sichuan, it was the first time in his life he had seen land 'barren for a thousand miles.' It wasn't that the disaster areas centered on Beijing and Tianjin lacked water entirely; there was water, and as long as wells were dug, people wouldn't die of thirst. But there was no water to irrigate the fields. Farmers watched helplessly as their crops failed, the year's harvest turning to nothing. To avoid starvation, they had to flee to other places.

The Northeast was already a region of immigrants, and at this time, it had thrown its doors open to accept refugees. As long as they could reach the liaison stations receiving disaster victims in the Northeast, they wouldn't starve.

However, this didn't mean the victims were willing to go to the Northeast. Many just wanted to survive the disaster in their hometowns, waiting for it to pass so they could continue tilling the land of their home villages next year.

Thinking of this, a sudden sorrow rose within Xi Bale, blurring his vision. He stood up, clasped his hands behind his back, walked out of the room, and gazed at the deep, distant starry sky.

The Northeast Government did not lack grain, but it had no way to implement disaster relief in the five provinces. Duan Qirui wanted to coordinate relief efforts, but the 'Marshals' of Shandong, Shanxi, Henan, Hebei, and Shaanxi agreed in words while resisting in practice.

What they resisted was naturally not the free grain, but the fact that they wanted the Central Government to simply give them the grain, leaving them with full authority to dispose of it.

These people's attitudes were so firm that even Duan Qirui was embarrassed to say too much to the Northeast Government. When Xi Bale inquired about grain distribution, Duan Qirui equivocated. In the end, it was one of Duan's subordinates who told Xi Bale about the reactions of the Marshals in the five provinces.

Upon hearing the account, Xi Bale slapped the table and cursed in rage, "Even when ordering slaves around, one wouldn't be this cruel!"

Duan Qirui's subordinate sighed and actually didn't respond. Seeing his helpless expression, Xi Bale could understand that this man also knew the situation couldn't be changed.

Xi Bale finally quelled his anger, returned to his desk, and continued writing by candlelight: "Viewing this disaster, if one wishes to save China, one must thoroughly sweep away the warlords, as well as the landlords and gentry who collude with them. In this great disaster, the warlords are certainly a scourge, but the scourge of the gentry is ten or a hundred times that of the warlords. During the disaster year, the various actions of the landlords and gentry are all destroying the people's productivity, striving to annex land and turn the populace into tenant farmers. Even if unintentional, they are following the routine methods of the landlord-gentry class..."

The report was quickly sent to Shenyang and then forwarded to He Rui. To the secretary's surprise, after reading it, He Rui merely ordered it to be filed and did not use it as educational content as he had before.

This made the secretary hesitate, and he reminded him, "Chairman, should we send this to the Party School?"

"Send it to the Party School... forget it, let's not send it for now," He Rui's tone was unenthusiastic.

The secretary didn't know why this was, but he obeyed and left.

He Rui hadn't expected the secretary to notice this point. Indeed, in the first two years after arriving in the Northeast, during the phase of constructing ideology, it was natural to heavily publicize the inherent reactionary nature of landlords and gentry to coordinate with land reform. But the current focus of work was already military struggle.

The war with Japan was preparation for the liberation of China. In the current world, the only country that would directly intervene in China's civil war on a large scale was Japan. Rather than fighting the Japanese Army during the civil war, it was better to go to war with Japan first.

Precisely because of this, excessive political struggle propaganda might cause some muddled-headed individuals to act recklessly. Large-scale political propaganda targeting the overthrow of landlords and gentry had best begin when the war situation was stable and nearing its end.

Before long, the secretary brought another piece of news. The information came from Europe, and the provider was surprisingly the German intelligence service.

Budyonny's army group had abandoned the objective of besieging Lviv. His cavalry corps had turned to retreat, attempting to withdraw into Russian territory before the Polish army could complete an encirclement.

Although the German intelligence service had suffered massive reductions following the Treaty of Versailles, it was still able to provide He Rui with valuable intelligence. Seeing this confirmable news, He Rui understood that the Polish-Soviet War was about to end. Kolchak's doomsday had arrived.

Having determined this, He Rui ordered, "Tell the logistics department to prioritize completing the transport of the grain Kolchak purchased. Deliver it all as soon as possible."

The secretary felt puzzled again. "Chairman, why is that?"

He Rui decided to test this comrade's level. Within the Northeast Government, 'secretary' was not a staff advisor role but a position. Those judged to be promising comrades had to serve in the secretary position. So He Rui asked back, "What is your view on this news?"

"If Russia and Poland sign a truce, Soviet Russia will attack Kolchak with full force," the secretary answered somewhat hesitantly.

Since the secretary could make such a judgment, He Rui explained, "Commercial credit is established through various practical actions. We could, of course, withhold the supplies for Kolchak and wait for him to be finished, then we wouldn't have to give these things. But would others not know about such a thing? I believe the value of commercial credit is far higher than this small amount of supplies. Moreover, I am not optimistic about Kolchak's strength; they may not necessarily be able to hold out until the end of the contract period."

The secretary was amused. But a moment later, a sense of sorrow arose spontaneously. The purpose of rushing to complete the commercial contract was actually the fear that the recipient, the Kolchak regime, would be destroyed too quickly. Kolchak was a significant figure, yet he was being treated like a funeral arrangement. It was truly sorrowful.

But the secretary said nothing and merely hurried to complete the work. According to the contract, many supplies were to be delivered within two months. Suddenly advancing the schedule was not something the Northeast Government could accomplish easily.

***

Kolchak had been considering how to get all the purchased supplies from the Northeast Government as soon as possible. Although the Northeast Government had always provided weapons and grain with guaranteed quality and quantity, Kolchak had recently discovered that he might have to advance his counteroffensive. Only by achieving military results could he obtain continued support from Britain and France.

However, the conflict that had occurred not long ago made Kolchak worry that the Northeast Government would use it as an excuse to cut off supply. Just as Admiral Kolchak was considering whether to order someone to contact the Northeast Government again or to lead a delegation to visit the Northeast himself, his Chief of Staff appeared hurriedly outside his residence. Seeing Kolchak, the Chief of Staff spoke directly without even saluting, "Your Excellency, latest news. The Northeast Government has delivered a portion of the supplies ahead of schedule."

Kolchak was overjoyed, yet still somewhat alert. A wary look appeared on Admiral Kolchak's angular face. "Did they give a reason?"

"Your Excellency, the person sent by the Northeast Government explained that the attack incident that occurred previously proved our army's lack of supplies. The Chinese have a habit of... solving key problems. As long as the supplies arrive, these problems can be solved." The Chief of Staff tried his best to clarify the issue.

Kolchak felt the reason was baffling. In the Russian cultural tradition, there was no logic to providing help at such a time. If Kolchak and the Northeast Government were to swap places, he would insist that the other party pay compensation first.

Seeing Kolchak's doubt, the Chief of Staff confidently offered his own view. "The Chinese likely did this because they fear our army."

Kolchak couldn't quite accept that. But on second thought, it seemed reasonable. Since the Qing Dynasty, China had been weak like this, using appeasement as a means to solve problems.

Just as he wanted to order the Chief of Staff to receive the supplies immediately, he heard the Chief of Staff sigh, "If it weren't for fighting the Red Bandits, we could actually send men to attack the border. Perhaps we could make China sign a treaty with us."

For a moment, Kolchak thought his Chief of Staff had gone mad. But listening to his tone, it was mostly a lamentation, not that he really intended to do it. Kolchak understood his subordinate's mindset; if they could win a battle against the Chinese Northeast Army, it would be helpful for boosting the White Russian Army's morale.

But that absolutely could not be done right now. From any perspective, it was necessary to maintain friendly relations with the Chinese Northeast Government. Kolchak had always felt that at this stage, the Chinese Northeast Government had the flavor of being a 'white glove' for Britain and France.

The grain and supplies were quickly delivered to the White Russians. Kolchak immediately telegraphed Britain and France, stating that the White Russian Army would advance north before winter to control strategic points.

Almost at the same time, Jordan had also received news from British intelligence personnel in Vladivostok that the Northeast Government had provided a large amount of grain and supplies to the Russian Provisional Government.

This puzzled Jordan greatly. Although He Rui was reliable, doing this was very unreasonable. Could He Rui have reached some secret agreement with Kolchak?

Jordan ordered the consulate to raise the question with the Northeast Government. The Consul at the British Consulate in Shenyang hadn't been able to see He Rui for two years; the person meeting him this time was a Deputy Director of the Foreign Affairs Office. Even Director Zhou of the Foreign Affairs Office didn't make an appearance.

The Deputy Director told the British Consul in Shenyang, "We merely fulfilled a commercial contract. We did not reach any agreement with the White Russians."

Although the Consul didn't believe it in his heart, there was nothing he could do. Before having any actual evidence, no matter how much suspicion the British side had, they could only accept such an official statement.

Since the Consul knew diplomatic protocols, Minister Jordan naturally knew them even better. So Jordan included the news in his regular dispatch to London.

The British Foreign Office was currently discussing the war issue intensely. The Foreign Secretary was merely the head of the Foreign Office, not a diplomatic expert. The real experts were that group of civil servant secretaries.

The secretaries knew the Foreign Secretary was waiting for a result, but they couldn't immediately sort out a line of thought.

As the setter of the current world order, British intelligence work was far more powerful than the remnant German intelligence service. And since Britain was fully supporting Poland, they were clear about the war's progress.

Budyonny's cavalry had been obstructed in their advance toward Lviv, so they took a route through an area where Polish defenses were weak, arriving at Zamość on August 29 and attempting to capture it. On August 31, Budyonny abandoned the siege of Lviv and switched to attempting to support the Russian Northwestern Front retreating from Warsaw. The Russian army was defeated by Polish cavalry at the Battle of Komarów. Although Budyonny's First Cavalry Army escaped encirclement, it suffered severe casualties and a massive drop in morale. The remnants of Budyonny's First Cavalry Army retreated toward Vladimir-Volynsky on September 6 and were defeated by the Polish army again not long after.

Tukhachevsky formed a new defensive line, but the Polish army forced the Russians to retreat again at the Battle of the Niemen River. The Polish army continued to push east across the board.

Now only two armed forces remained for the White Russians: one was Kolchak, and the other was Petliura in southern Ukraine. The Ukrainian army led by Petliura occupied the left bank of the Zbruch River on September 18 and advanced further east.

The pressure Soviet Russia faced was simply sky-high. At this juncture, Soviet Russia's defeat was already inevitable, so whether to aid Kolchak became particularly tricky.

In the experience of the British Empire, the more critical the moment, the more likely seemingly valuable targets were to cause trouble.

Reading the report sent by Jordan, this group of secretaries felt no peace of mind; instead, they began to worry.

Suddenly, someone asked, "Do other forces exist within He Rui's army?"

***

At that very moment, Xu Chengfeng was meeting his father with great reluctance. His old man was even more miserable now than the last time he came; at least, nominally more miserable. His father had come under the pretense of 'fleeing famine.'

Upon seeing Xu Chengfeng, the first thing his father said was, "Are you going to sell off all our family property for that whatever-ism of yours?!"

Xu Chengfeng was already incredibly disgusted by the landlord style of his family. Seeing his father's 'resolute' expression, he couldn't help but advise, "Father, after our army liberates China, we will implement land reform across the entire country. According to land reform regulations, all land belongs to the state. Those who till the land have land use rights, but land ownership is not allowed to be bought or sold. Regarding our family's property, I'm not selling anything. The land goes to the state. I want nothing."

Hearing this, Old Master Xu immediately burst into a fit of coughing. After managing to stop the coughing with great difficulty, he forced himself to spirit up. "Chengfeng, did Marshal He ask you to do this?"

Xu Chengfeng felt that approaching from a political angle would likely be incomprehensible to his own father, so he could only tell him about the policy-making process. "Father, this is the national policy of our Civilization Party. It was passed by vote. I also voted in favor."

"You... can you trust Marshal He? Every Marshal in the Beiyang clique speaks beautifully, but they levy exorbitant taxes and commit all sorts of evil deeds..."

Hearing his father actually accuse others of 'levying exorbitant taxes and committing all sorts of evil deeds,' Xu Chengfeng closed his eyes helplessly. Xu Chengfeng had only heard about the style of the Beiyang warlords. But the viciousness of his own family when collecting rent was something Xu Chengfeng had seen with his own eyes. It was really hard to say who was more brutal.