In the battle reports within the Japanese Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army headquarters, there was a tacit understanding: no one mentioned the Northeast Army's mobility. It was as if 40,000 men withdrawing from their positions in one hour, slipping away under the fierce assault of a powerful army corps, was the most normal thing in the world.

The 5th Army's retreat had gone very smoothly; the 100-kilometer retreat through the snow was completed in just two days. Upon returning to the defense line, the 5th Army immediately moved behind the lines to complete reorganization. Light and heavy equipment were quickly replenished, the severely wounded received comprehensive treatment, and light casualties with stabilized injuries were sent to military hospitals within the Northeast for the next stage of treatment.

In the command headquarters, Hu Xiushan held the final pre-battle collective meeting with the corps commanders participating in the defense.

8th Army Commander Zhou Zaixing sighed, "I thought the Japanese would launch their counterattack within two months. I didn't expect them to actually withstand the domestic political pressure and prepare for three months. To think that Prime Minister Katō Tomosaburō died at such a critical moment—Japan's luck is really quite good."

The other corps commanders felt the same. According to the 5th Army's battle report, the Japanese had prepared a massive number of 150mm howitzers for the attack, which caused over 2,000 casualties to the 5th Army. The number of severely wounded was low this time; under 150mm howitzer bombardment, getting off with a light wound wasn't easy. The death toll far exceeded the number of serious injuries.

Hu Xiushan shook his head, "Thinking that way might be underestimating the Japanese. Japan does not lack talent. If it were the Beiyang government facing such a situation, the new people coming to power would likely feel their opportunity had arrived and would have launched a hasty counterattack in less than two months."

"Beiyang has that much backbone?" Zhou Zaixing was skeptical.

Hu Xiushan didn't want to waste time on such a worthless question. He continued, "The current situation with the Japanese isn't a bad thing. With them gathering so many troops, we can better achieve our strategic objectives and weaken the Japanese army to the maximum extent. Once the fighting starts, a Japanese force of this magnitude won't be able to accept retreat. Anyone who proposes retreat after suffering huge losses will be viewed as a traitor by the Japanese public, and Tokyo will not hesitate to dismiss and prosecute such generals."

The corps commanders nodded one after another. Everyone understood that this battle would be a real fight, a very substantial one. 5th Army Commander Tang Yanming couldn't help but sigh, "I didn't realize strategic initiative offered such an advantage. I'd only heard about it before, but now I see it with my own eyes. Commander, if we encountered such a situation, could we withstand the pressure and choose the most rational strategy?"

This question was immediately rebutted by 8th Army Commander Zhou Zaixing, "Chairman He would never make an erroneous strategic judgment! There's no such thing as 'unable to withstand pressure' with him."

The other commanders didn't think this was sycophancy. By now, everyone understood the significance of strategic initiative. Even if the Japanese knew they were about to bash their heads against a wall, they had no choice but to charge. So, in truth, no one wanted to discuss the possibility of being in their shoes; if things really reached that point, the commanders would probably be bashing their heads against the wall in agony too.

Hu Xiushan also didn't want to discuss such possibilities. He returned the discussion to position deployment, especially the placement of the heavy artillery groups. North of Seoul, the Japanese could use their heavy artillery clusters to bully the Northeast Army's 5th Army's organic heavy artillery, but at the first line of defense—the Pyongyang Line—the Japanese wouldn't have it so easy.

In particular, the Northeast Army had air superiority and could spot the Japanese heavy artillery positions earlier. Once they lost heavy artillery cover, the Japanese would have to use flesh and blood to go hard against machine gun positions.

The commanders discussed quickly. Although the 5th Army had destroyed the infantry support artillery on their positions when they withdrew, their heavy artillery had all been pulled back. This batch of heavy artillery was reintegrated into the army group's firepower, so they wouldn't be at a disadvantage even facing the Japanese.

The meeting concluded its discussions quickly. Hu Xiushan shouted loudly, "Stand up!" He stood up himself.

Facing the four corps commanders, Hu Xiushan asked, "Comrades, are there any questions regarding the campaign arrangements?"

The crowd declared, "It is completely clear!"

"Do you have the confidence to complete the mission?"

"Yes!" the four commanders answered in unison.

Hu Xiushan said no more, issuing the order grimly, "Dismissed!"

At this moment, the Japanese 9th Division was breaking through the last blocking position in front of them, their vanguard arriving less than 10 kilometers from the Pyongyang defense line.

Major Taniguchi, commander of the vanguard unit, raised his binoculars to look at the peaks rising from the ground ahead. Positions had already been established on the peaks. In the binoculars, layers of blocking positions woven from barbed wire densely covered the hillside. Just looking at it, Major Taniguchi felt a faint stinging sensation on his skin.

Like the Northeast Army positions they had broken through before, the snow-covered mountains were silent, as if no one was there. Yet on the high peaks that seemed empty of people, a massive red flag was planted among the giant rocks, flapping wildly in the mountain wind. The Northeast Army was hiding in their positions, waiting for the Japanese arrival.

The Japanese main force did not march quickly in the snow. On January 5th, the Japanese vanguard arrived in front of the Northeast Army's Pyongyang defense line. It wasn't until January 8th that the six main attack divisions of the Japanese Army, braving Northeast Army air bombardment, fully arrived before the Pyongyang line.

After receiving the news, Nagata merely exchanged a glance with Lieutenant General Terauchi Hisaichi, Commander of the Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army. Both saw the heaviness in the other's eyes. Lieutenant General Terauchi had gradually accepted reality over these past days. The Northeast Army not only dared to fight but was good at fighting. From strategic conception to campaign arrangement, they had forced the Japanese army to follow the strategy set by the Northeast Army. Such a situation was something Lieutenant General Terauchi had never experienced in his military career.

Looking at the latest battle report, Terauchi Hisaichi suddenly felt a doubt, asking, "Nagata-kun, should I go to the front line to inspect?"

Nagata Tetsuzan sensed Terauchi Hisaichi's unease and felt that doing so would be inappropriate. After all, the Terauchi Hisaichi before him had become commander largely due to his background.

Terauchi Hisaichi was born on August 8, 1879, into a hereditary noble family of great prestige and power in Yamaguchi Prefecture, Japan. His father, Count Terauchi Masatake, was a Meiji elder statesman who had served as Inspector General of Military Education, Army Minister, Governor-General of Korea, and Prime Minister.

Although Terauchi Hisaichi was the scion of a famous family, he had also received a complete set of rigorous military education. He had studied at the Middle School attached to the Tokyo Higher Normal School and the Tokyo Seijo School.

He graduated from the 11th class of the Imperial Japanese Army Academy's infantry course on November 21, 1899, and was commissioned as an infantry second lieutenant on June 22 of the following year, serving with the 2nd Imperial Guard Infantry Regiment. He participated in the Russo-Japanese War, serving as adjutant to the 1st Imperial Guard Infantry Brigade. After the war, he entered the 21st class of the Army War College; few children of the nobility could pass the entrance exam for the Army War College like he did.

He graduated on December 3, 1909.

In 1911, he was promoted to Major, serving as a staff officer for the Imperial Guard Division and a member of the Army General Staff.

In 1913, Terauchi Hisaichi obtained an opportunity to go to Germany, serving as assistant military attaché in Vienna. While working, he actively studied the German Army. Upon returning to Japan, his father's power was at its peak, allowing him to jump between two key departments: the Army General Staff and the Imperial Guard Division.

In July 1919, Terauchi Hisaichi was appointed commander of the 3rd Imperial Guard Regiment and simultaneously promoted to the rank of Colonel. That same year, his father died of illness. Terauchi Hisaichi lost his father's protection and entered a stage of independent development.

In December 1919, he succeeded to the title (Count).

But on second thought, if Terauchi Hisaichi didn't go to the front to inspect and instead stayed in the rear to issue orders, he wouldn't be able to encourage or berate the troops when the battle turned tragic.

Of course, if Terauchi Hisaichi went to the front, it would actually have no impact on the situation. A tragic battle wouldn't change in the slightest just because Terauchi Hisaichi had gone to the front to boost morale. As long as the political pressure in Japan remained enormous, the Japanese army could only keep fighting. This was also the most painful thing in Nagata's heart.

Finally, Nagata answered, "If Your Excellency wishes to go to the front, this subordinate will certainly accompany you."

Seeing Nagata Tetsuzan kick the ball back, Terauchi Hisaichi understood that Nagata didn't really support it. Thinking for a moment, Lieutenant General Terauchi asked, "Then we commence the attack tomorrow, January 9th, the date prescribed by Imperial General Headquarters."

"Yes!" Nagata answered immediately.

This round of snowfall had stopped. The snow in the mountains showed no sign of melting, but the mountain wind was even colder. The wind cut like a knife against their faces; the Japanese officers and men had to pull down the ear flaps of their cotton caps to protect their cheeks as tightly as possible.

Hearing that the battle would start tomorrow, even the officers most eager for war didn't cheer or jump for joy; they only felt a mix of excitement and a relief like a stone dropping from their hearts. The Japanese soldiers had no leisure for joy; compared to the mild climate created by the Pacific warm current, the mountains of Korea were too cold—so cold that at night they almost couldn't sleep from freezing. Some Japanese soldiers even hoped the Northeast Army opposite them would freeze stiff. It wasn't until they heard the news that the whole army would receive extra rations tonight, that the Japanese ranks felt some joy and encouragement.

The Northeast Army, of course, had not frozen stiff. The mountains were certainly cold, but the Northeast Army's logistical supply was very sufficient. The troops were resting in tunnels where the logistics department had provided a type of stove with a chimney, as well as enough charcoal. With just one stove, the tunnels, already sheltered from the biting wind, became much warmer.

Wills had long since been mailed home, and the soldiers' moods had completely recovered. They could even crack quiet jokes, waiting for the pork stew with vermicelli to be delivered a bit sooner that evening.

Night fell. The officers and men on watch carefully observed the situation. The tin cans hung on the barbed wire swayed in the cold wind, making irregular, light sounds when they collided with the wire. Only when the barbed wire was violently breached would they make urgent noises, alerting the Northeast Army to counterattack immediately.

At 4:00 AM, all Japanese troops on the front line got up. Column after column entered the trenches silently; only the duty soldiers who had frozen all night could return to camp and fall asleep immediately.

Time passed minute by minute. The Japanese lay in the trenches, their exhaled white breath freezing into tiny ice crystals on the rims of their caps and even their eyebrows.

On the long battle line, many Japanese soldiers' faces were wet—it was unclear whether it was sweat or ice water formed from melting ice crystals. The officers constantly checked their watches; the time for the artillery bombardment was getting closer, and the time for the infantry to begin their assault on the Northeast Army positions was also approaching.

Everyone's heart felt as if it were being squeezed by something; breathing almost came to a standstill.