The invention and large-scale application of radio triggered a change in the mode of warfare. The intensity of command communications increased rapidly, greatly elevating the density of information exchange between units. Both the Japanese and Northeast Armies maintained scheduled communications before the war. Once combat began, the communication density shortened from once every hour or two to every half hour. As the fighting intensified, intervals would shorten to even fifteen minutes.

At 10:40 AM on October 10th, just ten minutes after the last transmission, the 2nd Army Headquarters received a new telegram. Hu Xiushan felt a wave of relief but remained silent.

Just as Hu Xiushan had anticipated, the telegram reported: "8th Corps, 2nd Division, 3rd Regiment has conquered the Japanese 20th Division Headquarters. The main Japanese force has begun to retreat."

Hu Xiushan gave no instructions to the frontline infantry. Instead, he turned to the Air Force Liaison Officer. "Order the Air Force to intensify aerial reconnaissance. The Air Force airfield construction units are to prepare to move out."

The Liaison Officer was overjoyed and immediately responded, "Yes!"

When the news reached Air Force Headquarters, Commander Cai Shikun was delighted and immediately ordered reconnaissance squadrons to launch rapid sorties. Next, Commander Cai and his Deputy Chief of Staff immediately turned to the map to reconfirm the location of the new airfield.

In the operational plan, the airfield the Air Force was to build was not in the cold, meteorologically complex deep mountains of Korea, but in the coastal regions where the weather was relatively simpler and warmer. This was a suggestion made by the Air Force based on the characteristics of their aircraft. Reasonable suggestions naturally encountered relevant problems: without a frontline airfield, the Air Force had to take off from Northeast Army airfields along the Yalu River, flying over 100 kilometers just to reach the Chosin Reservoir area to execute missions, which greatly limited their strength.

A distance of 100 kilometers was still within the Air Force's acceptable range, but it was 500 kilometers from the Yalu River to Pyongyang. This far exceeded the Air Force's combat radius. If they took off from the Pyongyang airfield, pilots could at least take a look at Seoul, 260 kilometers away, from high altitude before immediately turning back.

The pilots didn't have time to think about this. The reconnaissance crews took off rapidly upon receiving orders. In less than an hour, a vast, bright body of water appeared in their field of view—Chosin Reservoir, the largest lake in northern Korea.

Because the Northeast Army had already gained the upper hand, the reconnaissance planes lowered their altitude. They saw Northeast Army troops flooding into Japanese positions from the west and north. Although there were still some scattered Japanese artillery spewing smoke, it was negligible in the face of the fierce attack.

Continuing forward, they found the Japanese rear positions were still resisting, and there were no signs of Japanese troops fleeing in panic along the roads leading to the rear. This puzzled the reconnaissance crews. Why weren't the Japanese fleeing?

Reconnaissance planes have inertia; a slight push forward carries them several *li*. Seeing signs of large-scale troop movements in the distance, the pilot hurriedly aborted his turn-back maneuver and flew forward. Soon, the observer shouted excitedly, "It's our troops! Our troops are outflanking them from the rear! The Japanese are doomed!"

The pilot didn't ask "if" it was the Japanese in disguise, because that question was stupid. It was possible to get a few enemy uniforms for special operations, but large-scale disguise in enemy uniforms was completely unreasonable and uneconomical. Uniforms cost money to make, and armies aren't children playing house who immediately mingle upon meeting.

Armies have strict vigilance and identification regulations at all times. Two units wearing the same uniform wouldn't allow each other to approach without thoroughly clarifying who the other was.

As reconnaissance information and unit telegrams converged, Hu Xiushan ordered a telegram be sent to Northeast Army Headquarters.

"To Northeast Army Headquarters: The 2nd Army has surrounded the Japanese forces in the Chosin Reservoir and north and south of the Cheongcheon River, breached the main Japanese positions, and destroyed the division headquarters of the Japanese 19th and 20th Divisions. Organized large-scale Japanese resistance has been shattered. The subsequent fighting will become regiment-level combat led by the two Japanese division headquarters. The campaign objectives have been achieved. My unit prepares to organize forces to immediately move south and seize Pyongyang while Japanese forces are hollow. Requesting instructions from Headquarters. 2nd Army Commander, Hu Xiushan."

In less than ten minutes, the communications room received a reply. "Agree with 2nd Army's opinion. Suggestions are as follows: Given the limited number of trains under your command and the possibility of Japanese forces delaying our action by destroying railways, the 4th, 5th, and 6th Motorized Groups, originally intended for the Lushun-Dalian campaign, have crossed the Yalu River and are advancing toward your location. If there are any logistical issues, please contact Headquarters in time. Northeast Army Commander, Xu Chengfeng."

It was clear that Xu Chengfeng had prepared the content of this telegram long ago, and his judgment of the campaign's progress was completely consistent with Hu Xiushan's. After all, the liaison telegrams from the various corps and divisions of the 2nd Army were also copied to Northeast Army Headquarters at all times.

Northeast Army Headquarters would naturally not bypass the chain of command to issue direct orders, but that didn't mean they wouldn't do so if they felt they must.

After reading the telegram, Hu Xiushan immediately ordered the troops to produce the relevant operational plan for the advance on Pyongyang. Staff officers performed rapid calculations and assessments revolving around the key points already raised: 'march formation,' 'committed forces,' 'routes of action,' and 'potential enemy encounters.'

In less than twenty minutes, the plan was finalized. The reserve force on the eastern front, the 5th Corps' 3rd Division, immediately regrouped, shifted into marching mode, and went to rendezvous with the motorized groups, preparing to set off for Pyongyang.

***

At this time, Ishiwara Kanji had already entered the city of Pyongyang. The largest organized unit in Pyongyang was a transport regiment of three thousand men from the 20th Division. Members of the Future Society within this unit learned of Ishiwara Kanji's arrival and came to pay their respects. By the time Ishiwara arrived at the Japanese Garrison Headquarters in Pyongyang, he was already trailed by quite a few junior officers and NCOs.

Only administrative officers remained in the Pyongyang Garrison Headquarters, the highest-ranking being Colonel Takeshita. Seeing that the arrival was Ishiwara Kanji, Colonel Takeshita was stunned.

Ishiwara Kanji stepped forward and saluted, then asked, "Takeshita-kun, have you received Nagata-kun's telegram?"

Takeshita hesitated a moment, then could only nod. Colonel Takeshita was Nagata Tetsuzan's senior and had always admired him. But for Nagata to send Ishiwara Kanji, a maverick in the army, sent his thoughts of cooperation flying to the nine heavens.

Ishiwara Kanji saw through the other man's mood. Among Japanese field officers, only Nagata Tetsuzan had not reacted this way upon dealing with him. Thus, Ishiwara regarded Nagata as half a soulmate.

So, under the gaze of a crowd of field officers, company-grade officers, and NCOs, Ishiwara stepped forward to Colonel Takeshita. "Takeshita-kun, have you received the latest telegram from the division?"

Takeshita wanted to say he hadn't. But given the situation, he couldn't say such a thing and could only nod silently.

Ishiwara spoke clearly, "I came by train and did not receive any telegrams. But based on my judgment, the transport troops have already received orders from the Division Commander to go reinforce. And since the Division Headquarters signaled they were forced onto the defensive, there has been no news for a long time. Takeshita-kun, am I correct?"

This news had been temporarily suppressed by Colonel Takeshita; the other officers and NCOs didn't know. The NCOs didn't know what this meant and felt perhaps there was a problem with telegraph communications.

But the sharper minds among the lieutenants already sensed the situation was wrong. As for the rigorously trained field officers—even those who graduated from other military academies rather than the Army War College—they already understood what the greatest probability was.

Originally, the field officers naturally stood on Colonel Takeshita's side. Now, involuntarily, they joined Ishiwara in fixing their gazes on Colonel Takeshita's face.

Feeling isolated and unable to bear the collective gaze, Colonel Takeshita could only say, "Ishiwara-kun, please follow me."

As Ishiwara followed Takeshita toward the room, the lieutenants wanted to quietly follow. Ishiwara turned around and ordered, "Gentlemen, attention!"

Ishiwara was now a Lieutenant Colonel, ranking only below Colonel Takeshita among the remaining officers. At his command, even the other Lieutenant Colonels had to stop, while the lieutenants and NCOs all snapped to attention.

Once Ishiwara entered the room, Colonel Takeshita looked at the group of officers standing ramrod straight outside and could only thank him first. "Thank you, Ishiwara-kun, for maintaining order."

Of course, this was said reluctantly. After all, Takeshita was the highest-ranking officer here. It made him very uncomfortable that Ishiwara, who hadn't been to Korea in years, controlled the situation the moment he arrived. If not for the telegram Ishiwara mentioned, and the one sent by Nagata Tetsuzan, Colonel Takeshita would have had a bone to pick with him.

Ishiwara spoke decisively, "Takeshita-kun, as Imperial soldiers, we should die on the battlefield fighting bravely, not stubbornly accepting meaningless orders and leading troops into a deathtrap. That is irresponsible, and it is stupid."

Colonel Takeshita actually agreed with Ishiwara's judgment. And among Japanese field officers, people as unique as Ishiwara were rare. So Ishiwara's 'deeds' were widely circulated—for instance, the strange tale that as long as the course was related to strategy, Ishiwara could rank first in the class without listening to lectures or reading books.

Just as Colonel Takeshita was about to ask for Ishiwara's suggestion, Ishiwara spoke up. "Takeshita-kun, Pyongyang is 400 kilometers from the front, and the front is 100 kilometers from the Yalu River. How critical must our army's situation be for the Division Headquarters to order transport troops to support them? This not only exceeds military common sense, it violates it. Therefore, I judge that the frontline troops can no longer hold. Two divisions defeated, forces across Korea scattered—what should we do?"

Saying this, Ishiwara raised his left hand, curled his fingers, and made a fist. "What we must do now is rapidly gather every unit, especially the military hospitals. Whether it's transport troops, Japanese residents in Korea, or reservists. Only by gathering them together is it possible to resist the enemy. Otherwise, at the Imperial Army's marching speed, they can reach Seoul in just four days. They can reach Busan in seven. This is no longer the era of marching on two legs. The Northeast Army will utilize trains as much as possible; their marching speed will only be faster."

What Ishiwara said was basic military common sense, devoid of any unfathomable strategy. Colonel Takeshita could think of it too, but at this moment he was full of confusion and didn't know how to execute it. After all, if he were skilled in operations and logistics, he wouldn't have been placed in the rear. Knowing his own limitations, Takeshita knew his greatest strength lay in executing orders. Issuing commands was absolutely not his forte.

In Takeshita's hesitation, Ishiwara said, "Takeshita-kun, please allow me to assist you in completing this difficult task."

Finished, Ishiwara bowed. "For the Empire, please, Takeshita-kun, you must give me this opportunity to assist."

Colonel Takeshita was stunned. He felt it incredible. Was this person bowing deeply and requesting a chance the same Ishiwara Kanji who sneered whenever he encountered a viewpoint he couldn't stomach?

Was this the arrogant Ishiwara who, when asked 'Why did Ishiwara-kun get second place at the War College but only sixth at the Academy?', frankly answered 'Because the War College doesn't have a conduct grade'?

But then, Colonel Takeshita was moved by Ishiwara. Ishiwara knew clearly that the front had suffered defeat, yet he had rushed straight toward it. He could have chosen not to come, but not only did he come, he requested so sincerely. This loyalty to the Empire ignited Takeshita's hope.

Takeshita stepped forward and pulled Ishiwara up. "Ishiwara-kun, please do your utmost for the Empire."

When Colonel Takeshita and Ishiwara Kanji emerged from the room, the officers and NCOs waiting outside saw the attitude between the two and breathed a sigh of relief. Especially those officers who supported Takeshita; seeing Ishiwara's stern expression earlier, they had thought he was going to do something to the Colonel.

Colonel Takeshita immediately convened a military council. At the meeting, he introduced Ishiwara Kanji, the second-seat graduate of the Army War College, to the assembled officers and praised his ability. Ishiwara produced official documents and sincerely stated that although he was ordered to the front by the Korean Garrison Army, he would respect Colonel Takeshita's command authority.

Seeing the two behave this way, the other officers put their hearts at ease. Actually, everyone felt something was wrong, but under the Japanese military system, everyone could only obey orders.

Next, Ishiwara laid out his judgment of the war situation. Those officers with insufficient military proficiency were shocked by such a critical situation. The officers who could still think rationally were all moved by Ishiwara's courage and determination.

Colonel Takeshita then said, "Gentlemen, we must not panic at this time. Lieutenant Colonel Ishiwara will formulate the subsequent plan."

Soon, the Japanese Korea Army Headquarters in Seoul received a telegram from Colonel Takeshita in Pyongyang, requesting the Headquarters to order the 19th Division's transport troops to move closer to Pyongyang.

General Ōba Jirō, Commander of the Korea Garrison Army, immediately replied, "Troops of the 19th and 20th Divisions outside the front lines are to form a unified Seoul Defense Force, under the unified command of a headquarters formed by Colonel Takeshita and Lieutenant Colonel Ishiwara. Military, administrative, and civilian personnel in the areas surrounding Pyongyang are all subject to the deployment of this two-man headquarters."

In terms of the Japanese system, this order was irregular. Transferring troops that should still belong to the 19th and 20th Divisions to another command structure was a violation of the chain of command and against custom. But General Ōba Jirō already understood his fate; he only wanted to do something truly meaningful in his final time.

At this time, Nagata Tetsuzan was in the munitions department, issuing orders in his capacity as Vice Minister of Munitions for all military and administrative personnel in southern Korea to gather in Seoul. He also mobilized local personnel in Seoul to forcibly conscript laborers to begin building defensive fortifications. In some locations, prisoners were marched out in squads, a long rope tied around their waists linking them in a row. Japanese prison guards waved whips, shouting and cursing to make these prisoners speed up their work.

Okamura Yasuji had left headquarters. Carrying various orders, he went to the areas between Seoul and Pyongyang to arrange routes and collect troops, manpower, and materiel to complete his work.

The Japanese forces on the Korean peninsula were striving with all their might to hold Seoul. Meanwhile, the Northeast Army's vanguard lunged straight toward Seoul, the center of Japanese rule in Korea, with the first target being Pyongyang, which stood in their path.

***

In the Northeast Army Headquarters, the members of the Military Committee who remained were meeting. Chief of Staff Cheng Ruofan stretched lazily and patted his mouth, looking like he wanted to lie down immediately. The others were much the same. The headquarters staff in the rear hadn't slept much for days either. Now that the first phase of the war was finally determined, everyone felt as if all strength had been drained from their bodies.

Xu Chengfeng wanted to look at the battle reports again but couldn't read a thing. He looked at He Rui and saw him putting away his cigarettes. By this point, cigarettes could no longer stimulate the mind or alleviate fatigue.

Xu Chengfeng asked in disbelief, "Chairman, I knew the battle would be won, and I knew it should be fought like this. But why can't I believe it?"

He Rui stood up, hands supporting himself on the table to prop up his somewhat weak body. Having not slept for three days and three nights, He Rui also felt a sensation like drifting seaweed, but he felt his brain was still functioning normally, so he replied, "Because you haven't been able to review it yet, to completely master the various internal reasons and realistic processes of the war's conduct. Once you truly master it, you won't think this way anymore."

"You mean, we haven't yet turned the first phase of the campaign into our own knowledge?" Cheng Ruofan asked feebly.

He Rui nodded. "It's more accurate to describe it as truly turning it into one's own knowledge. After all, it's inevitable that everyone views problems subjectively right now."

Just then, the Deputy Chief of Staff walked in quickly. He had been strictly ordered to sleep, and as a result, he had slept for twelve hours before waking up. Seeing the group of senior members in the headquarters conference room with pale faces but decent spirits, the Deputy Chief of Staff immediately said, "I've heard the report after waking up. Please, everyone, go rest. The Japanese can't turn the tables."

Cheng Ruofan struggled to stand up, swayed a few steps, then turned to He Rui and said, "Chairman, I'm going to sleep first."

"Mm." He Rui nodded, though privately he doubted whether Cheng Ruofan could truly fall asleep right now.

Commander Xu Chengfeng and Political Commissar and Deputy Commander Zhong Yifu also stood up. Zhong Yifu said somewhat uncontrollably, "I definitely have to get some sleep. I'm leaving first."

Xu Chengfeng agreed. "Chairman, if I can fall asleep, I'll have many things to ask you when I wake up."

He Rui watched the three leave, then sat back down at the table. There was something he should do, but he couldn't remember it. Looking left and right, he saw the newspapers on the rack in the corner and suddenly remembered what it was. He had someone dial the general editorial office of the *Northeast Daily*.

The voice of Deputy Editor-in-Chief Mo Yang shouting immediately came through the receiver. "Chairman, the photos are all developed. We're sending them to the various branches at top speed. The branches in Beijing and Tianjin will be able to publish the special edition with photos today. We won! Long live!"

Seeing Mo Yang, a major reporter before he even joined the Northeast Government, excited to this extent, He Rui felt this forty-something-year-old uncle was being a bit too childish.

But Mo Yang's excitement was so real, so understandable. From 1840 to 1922, 82 years had passed. This was the first war that achieved a true victory and dealt a heavy blow to the enemy. Even if it was just the beginning of the war, it was enough to lift the spirits of a people who had been unable to achieve victory for 82 years.

Thinking of this, He Rui remembered another matter. He handed the phone to a secretary and let him speak with the ecstatic Mo Yang. He Rui had another secretary quickly record an order. "During pre-war planning, we predicted the excitement a preliminary victory would bring to the Chinese public. Patriotic citizens are bound to initiate actions to donate money and goods. Response plans for such actions have already been formulated. Currently, we must notify and explain this to the Party, government, military, and private citizens of the Northeast Government, requesting that they understand our decision and execute it thoroughly!"

Just as he finished speaking, the secretary on the phone brought it over. "Chairman, Editor-in-Chief Mo Yang insists on saying one more sentence to you."

He Rui took the phone and heard Mo Yang, the great reporter who had joined the *Northeast Daily* back in the Siping era, crying on the line. "Chairman He, I thank you. I truly thank you for letting me see this day with my own eyes!"

He Rui's somewhat numb nerves initially felt Mo Yang's attitude was childish, even laughable. But slowly, he felt his numb body recover some vitality, and even his eyes grew moist.

Mo Yang was not weeping for himself, but for China. His gratitude was not directed at He Rui, but expressing thanks to the saviors of China whose whereabouts he had previously not known.

In He Rui's era, China had long since been saved and liberated. But in this era, the suffering of the Chinese people was just beginning.

Just as there was a saying in the history of He Rui's timeline: "Many people think 2019 is the hardest year in the last decade, but 2019 is likely to be the best year in the next ten."

He Rui spoke loudly into the receiver, "Comrade Mo Yang, China's victory is just beginning. You will be moved even more in the future. Now, seize the time to work. There are too many things waiting for us to complete!"

Mo Yang began to recover from his state of weeping with joy. He responded loudly, "Yes... Yes!"

He Rui also felt his spirit return, ready to continue working. But at this moment, he felt sticky and dirty; as a modern person, this sensation was truly unpleasant. So He Rui went to the bathhouse to take a bath first.

According to the guards afterwards, He Rui fell asleep less than half a minute after sitting in the bath. Then he slipped into the water. If the guards hadn't immediately jumped in to fish him out, the Japanese side would probably have reaped a massive, unexpected windfall.