4:00 AM, October 9, 1922.

Zhang Xiluan woke up from his sleep and went to the bathroom. Returning to bed, he wanted to sleep a little longer, but drowsiness gradually faded, and his mind became clearer. Zhang Xiluan simply got up, went to the bathroom, and turned on the tap.

He Rui never missed the annual gift-giving etiquette, sending new products from the Northeast. Zhang Xiluan was now using a solar water heater. This thing didn't need coal; it could produce hot water just by basking in the sun, which was truly convenient. The water storage tank used a thick insulation layer, so as long as it wasn't the dead of winter, the water left overnight would still be hot the next day.

These were the things Zhang Xiluan liked. In terms of money, Zhang Xiluan didn't lack any. His family life was becoming more and more comfortable and convenient, using the latest things on the market. When others boasted about some 'incredible' gadget they had just bought, Zhang Xiluan could always nod and smile with the benevolence befitting an elder. This kind of life was what Zhang Xiluan considered the days of retirement.

Standing on the non-slip bathroom floor, wearing non-slip rubber slippers, letting the warm water wash over his body, Zhang Xiluan felt very happy.

By the time Zhang Xiluan finished bathing, Madam Zhang had already risen. Zhang Xiluan was known as 'Zhang Fast Horse'; his equestrian skills were excellent when he was young, and he could still gallop on horseback at seventy. Having this physique was entirely due to Zhang Xiluan's regular schedule and not neglecting exercise because of his status.

Seeing Zhang Xiluan coming out in a bathrobe and walking into the greenhouse next to the bathroom, Madam Zhang asked the maid who had just been woken up to apply the moisturizing oil sent by He Rui to Zhang Xiluan's body. Although Zhang Xiluan was healthy, at his age, his skin would feel itchy, especially after bathing.

Applying moisturizing oil after every bath solved this problem very well. Not only Zhang Xiluan liked it, but Madam Zhang liked it too.

Zhang Xiluan felt very comfortable where applied; after a while, the itching sensation disappeared. When his body was completely coated, Zhang Xiluan wanted to lie in the greenhouse for a while longer. Madam Zhang asked the maid to leave, took a large bath towel to cover Zhang Xiluan herself, and then asked, "Master, are you going to agree to Duke Duan and Duke Xu?"

Zhang Xiluan felt the comfortable sensation of lying in bed resting after practicing martial arts when he was young. For a moment, he didn't want to speak.

It's so good to be young. Lie down and rest when tired, rub when it hurts, scratch when it itches. If all else fails, sleep on it, and everything will pass after waking up. When old, hundreds of diseases entangle the body, and various ailments cling to you, none of which can be resolved happily. If you tell these to young people, they always use their own feelings to imagine Zhang Xiluan's feelings. It's really like farting in pants—venting at both ends (useless/keeping it to oneself).

Just thinking of this, he heard Madam Zhang sigh with some worry, "Master, do you not want to agree?"

Zhang Xiluan smiled. "If Madam doesn't agree, I won't agree."

Madam Zhang was startled and quickly replied, "What are you saying, Master? I don't understand national affairs."

"Then why is Madam so worried?" Zhang Xiluan started chatting with his wife.

"Master, He Rui started a war with the Japanese; he can't win, right?" Madam Zhang spoke the uneasiness in her heart.

Zhang Xiluan smiled and continued to ask, "If he can't win, why does He Rui want to fight?"

"...Jiawu (First Sino-Japanese War), Gengzi (Boxer Rebellion), didn't we fight then too?" Madam Zhang mentioned memories that left a deep impression on her.

Zhang Xiluan's smile disappeared. His wife's words awakened many painful memories.

Seeing her husband's expression change, Madam Zhang couldn't help but want to continue speaking. But she saw Zhang Xiluan had already sat up and said with a straight face, "I have my own judgment." After speaking, Zhang Xiluan went towards the bedroom. Hearing the sound of Zhang Xiluan dressing in the bedroom, Madam Zhang could only call the servants up to light the fire and cook.

Inside the large stoves, large briquettes were burning, and pumpkin and corn porridge was boiling in the pots. In the large oil woks, deep-fried dough sticks (youtiao) gradually turned golden brown as they were turned. The vegetable and meat stir-fry entered the final cooking process, and the Northeast Army cooks put salt and soy sauce into the pots to enhance the flavor.

Outside the cities of Port Arthur and Dairen occupied by the Kwantung Army, on the line from Jiashan and Longshan-dong to Deokcheon and Ningyuan in Korea, and around the Chosin Reservoir, the Northeast Army's attacking troops all had to prepare to eat at 5:00 AM.

It was not yet dawn. Relying on lights, thousands of cooking squads were working hard. Looking at their ranks—Corporal, Sergeant, Staff Sergeant, even Second Lieutenant. Food is the heaven for the people (paramount necessity), and good wartime catering is also important work to ensure the combat effectiveness of the army. These NCOs and officers worked with all their might, not regarding this as the work of servants at all.

The reason for everyone's seriousness was not only military education; working in the cooking squad was the third-to-last assessment content before the promotion of NCOs and officers. This was a step formally included in the assessment score. Moreover, military food production had its own steps and standards, formulated by specialized dietary nutrition research institutions. It did not require the members of the cooking squad to have the cooking skills of a chef. By executing according to the specifications, food meeting the standards could be produced. The organizational ability and time scheduling ability of NCOs and officers based on battlefield conditions were the main contents of the assessment.

A soldier who just ate when he got the food naturally didn't know that this meal required collecting various materials from the logistics department, arranging the power source of the kitchen truck, fuel supply, and parking positions for safety reasons. As NCOs and officers, they were not ordinary soldiers. Whether they liked it or not, they had to master this knowledge and use it to complete the task.

Compared with the Army's diet, the Air Force's food was richer and more exquisite. Milk, eggs, vegetables, meat, fruits were placed in large plates portion by portion, chosen by the pilots themselves buffet-style. Pilots carried their basic meals and went to these foods to choose their favorite dishes. It looked much more upscale.

But the pilots didn't care about this. Every flight was a high-intensity physical exertion. Some pilots were almost collapsed after landing and couldn't get out of the cabin on their own. One of the basic skills of the Air Force ground crew was to carry pilots out of the cabin. This also included rescuing pilots from the cabins of crashed planes.

To improve the survival rate of pilots, students at the flight school ran three thousand meters every day and ten thousand meters every two days. This was to improve the endurance of the pilot's body under extreme conditions.

As for the diet, it was just a necessity to maintain abundant physical strength at all times. No matter how surprised other branches were when seeing the pilot's food for the first time, the Air Force didn't think it was anything special. Most Army casualties were due to being hit by enemy guns and artillery. As long as Air Force pilots felt unwell and could not manipulate the plane precisely, there was a high probability of sacrifice.

Around 5:05 AM, even the soldiers of the most delayed units had eaten their meal. Few people talked to each other; even if they did, they spoke in low voices: "Must follow the unit closely!", "Relax, just like training."

At 5:20 AM, the troops finished eating. Officers and soldiers put down their bowls and chopsticks, picked up their canteens, and began to fill them with water. During the process, everyone rinsed their mouths. Some officers and soldiers felt that the food debris between their teeth hadn't been cleaned out, so they simply brushed their teeth quickly again.

At 5:30 AM, units began to assemble. At this time, the Air Force personnel, who generally had excellent eyesight, could already see the change in the color of the eastern sky. That was the 'darkness before dawn'. If a plane flew into the sky at this time, one could see the red sun jumping out of the horizon and rising slowly.

At 5:35 AM, the count was completed. The 33 flying squadrons to be committed to battle today, along with the 486 companies and 1458 platoons under the 6 Army corps, all confirmed how many troops they could commit to combat.

At 5:40 AM, all the lights at the airfield lit up. The control tower and various operation command lights switched from red to yellow. Equipped pilots headed straight for their planes. Reconnaissance plane pilots and observers stepped on ladders to reach the position level with the upper half of the plane, pulled open the canopy, and entered the cockpit. The ground crew outside closed the canopy, moved the ladders away, and signaled the ground crew at the nose.

The ground crew at the nose returned the signal and, after receiving a response from the rear ground crew, held the propeller and pulled hard. With the roar of the engine starting, the front ground crew ran away quickly. The pilot engaged the clutch, and the plane's propeller began to rotate slowly. As the rotation speed increased, the collars of the rear ground crew flapped slightly in the wind generated by the propeller. Relying on the power provided by the propeller, the plane moved forward slowly onto the runway.

The sky was still dark, but the color began to become clear and transparent. The signal flag of the airfield tower fell and rose again. That was the approximate wind direction information provided by ground observation stations everywhere. Immediately, the traffic indicator light changed from yellow to green.

The pilots in the first row increased the throttle, and the engines began to output full power. The planes taxied on the ground, faster and faster. The pilots pulled up the control sticks; first, the front landing gear gradually left the ground, then the rear landing gear. Reconnaissance planes flew into the sky one after another.

Whether heading to Port Arthur and Dairen, or to Jiashan and Chosin Reservoir in Korea, the aircraft groups did not set off for the combat area immediately but circled twice over the airfield before heading south under the guidance of ground signal lights.

Looking from the air, the round, lovely sun had risen red in the east. The sunlight was not dazzling and could be looked at directly with the naked eye. The ground was still dark, and the mountains, forests, and fields all showed turbid tones. But the pilots knew that before long, the colorful earth would reveal its true face under the sun.

The first to arrive in the airspace was the reconnaissance plane formation heading to Port Arthur and Dairen. Looking down from the air, the Port Arthur Fortress looked like a spider occupying the earth, with eight legs extended being the passages connecting the main fortress and the outer fortresses.

Several thin lines led from the distance straight to the spider's feet; those were railway lines. On the railway, trains were running from north to south. The trains running in this direction were full of siege troops and equipment. In front of the spider, many artillery positions had already been deployed. The most striking ones were four artillery groups whose coverage range exceeded other artillery groups by more than ten times.

Observers had extremely strong eyesight and trained memory. Just by looking at the ground, they could correspond it with yesterday's photos and the maps and photos sent before the sortie today. One after another, the observers confirmed that the Japanese deployment had not changed from yesterday. They immediately adjusted to the relevant preset telegraph transmission group and pressed the button.

Telegrams arrived quickly at the frontline headquarters. 13th Army Commander Song Junsheng, responsible for attacking Port Arthur, checked his watch. It was exactly 6:13 AM. He issued the order, "Start the attack!"

At this time, 45 hours had passed since the attack was launched at 9:00 AM on October 7th, and there were 27 hours left before the 72-hour battle end time.

The shells of the four 255mm siege mortars didn't even need correction; all hit the main body of the Port Arthur Fortress on the first shot. The armor-piercing shells directly penetrated the defense wall of the Port Arthur Fortress, burrowed into the interior of the fortress, and then exploded violently.

The main body of the Port Arthur Fortress trembled. Tables shook violently on the violently shaking ground, and items on them fell to the ground with a crackle. Kwantung Army Commander Lieutenant General Kawai Misao felt as if he had returned to Japan; the frequent earthquakes felt just like this.

But the Lieutenant General knew very well that this was not Japan, but geologically stable Port Arthur. Earthquakes in Japan would end soon and would not happen for a long time afterward. The situation facing the Port Arthur Fortress was exactly the opposite; this vibration would continue until the enemy failed or the fortress fell.

Before the next round of shelling began, Lieutenant General Kawai Misao made up his mind and ordered his adjutant: "Send the urgent telegram now!"

The adjutant couldn't care about the resistance in his heart anymore and immediately ran to Telegraph Room 1 next to the operations command room. As soon as he entered the door, he shouted, "Send the urgent telegram immediately!"

Hearing this order, the telegraph operator immediately put on headphones, opened the coded telegram already handed to them, and quickly began to transmit.

Tokyo's military radio station had long cleared this frequency. Upon receiving the transmission request signal, they immediately replied to indicate readiness to receive. Tokyo telegraph operators held pens, quickly recorded the telegraph signals, and translated them.

Next to them, Telegraph Group Leader Captain Saya Yuji also put on headphones. As the group leader, he didn't need to write by hand at all; he translated the message in his mind based on the telegraph code.

"...The enemy attacking the Kwantung Army is fully prepared. The siege artillery is powerful, and the Port Arthur Fortress cannot resist at all. Moreover, the enemy forces outnumber our army several times. Our army has already lost nearly 30,000 troops in previous defenses. The remainder are guarding Port Arthur and Dairen respectively, and the forces are insufficient. Please, Ministry of the Army, provide support as fast as possible. If it does not arrive within twelve hours, Port Arthur and Dairen will be in extreme danger. The Kwantung Army, from the Commander to the soldiers, is ready to die for the country and will fight to the last man and the last gun to win time for reinforcements..."

Captain Saya Yuji didn't know his face had become distorted. At this moment, his heart was extremely shocked. The well-equipped and well-trained Kwantung Army would actually be completely annihilated by the Chinese army? Such a thing had exceeded Captain Saya Yuji's common sense. The Imperial Japanese Army had an overwhelming advantage over the Chinese Army. For twenty-eight years, this idea had been instilled in the Japanese army over and over again and was already a mental foundation of the Japanese army. When this foundation was shaken, Captain Saya Yuji felt as if the sky had collapsed.