Commander of the 7th Corps, Li Manlin, had a lean physique and sharp features. At 9 AM on January 18th—33 hours after the Front Line Command had issued its operational orders—he had already led the 7th Corps' advance units by train to a position approximately 200 kilometers south of the Changjin Lake defensive line.

During the Northeast Army's withdrawal, they had destroyed all airfields about to fall into Japanese hands, completely demolishing the runways. At this moment, all the skies over northern Korea were under the wings of the Northeast Army Air Force. When the retreating blocking units were still 20 kilometers from the 7th Corps' assembly point, the Air Force had already sent its third message to the 7th Corps headquarters.

Twenty kilometers of mountain roads in northern Korea would take infantry about two hours to traverse. Li Manlin and the Chief of Staff once again studied the maps. The unit pursuing this particular Northeast Army column was the Japanese 29th Division, under the Second Expeditionary Headquarters' order of battle. The 7th Corps and the Japanese 29th Division had clashed during the Ryongchon landing operations. This unit attacked with great determination—blocking them had cost the 7th Corps' 1st Division dearly.

The 7th Corps command quickly reached a decision and immediately telegraphed the Front Line Command. Less than five minutes after the telegram was sent, a reply arrived: "The Front Line Command approves the 7th Corps' operational plan and reminds the 7th Corps once more that your plan is quite bold. The Command has made corresponding troop deployments based on your plan. May your unit fight bravely and demonstrate our army's combat effectiveness."

At that moment, below the hill where the command post was located, the blocking unit's trucks hauling 120mm artillery were the first to withdraw from the south. Following behind were gun carriages pulling 75mm rapid-fire guns and heavy mortars, the sturdy carriages packed with soldiers hitching rides. After the troop transport trucks in the middle of the retreat column passed, the Northeast Army cavalry bringing up the rear shook off the Japanese and caught up.

On the map, there was a road about 20 kilometers west of the 7th Corps that led directly to the 7th Corps' rear. Not only did the Northeast Army's maps show this road—the maps used by the Japanese 29th Division under the Second Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Force also had it.

Major General Yoshioka looked at the fork in the road. The 29th Division he commanded could choose any of the roads ahead, or split into two columns and reconvene at the northern junction 30 kilometers from the fork.

Soon, two new reports reached Major General Yoshioka. On the narrower but straighter road, Japanese forces had encountered bombardment from Northeast Army 120mm heavy artillery and couldn't advance. On the wider but more winding road, the Japanese vanguard had easily repelled the Northeast Army and was pursuing along the road.

Major General Yoshioka had been leading his troops in pursuit for seven days. Hearing this news, he thought briefly and ordered: "The enemy with the 120mm heavy artillery must be the main force. Two regiments from the 1st and 2nd Brigades will come under Division command and advance along the unobstructed road. The 2nd Brigade commander will lead the remaining two regiments to pin down the enemy while our Division's main force attempts to outflank the enemy's 120mm artillery position."

The Division Chief of Staff felt this might be a trap. In every previous blocking engagement, the other infantry units had only withdrawn after the Northeast Army's heavy artillery had retreated. Now it was reversed—something wasn't right. The Chief of Staff suggested: "Division Commander, the main force has been pursuing for so long. Perhaps we could first send one unit ahead while the rest take a brief rest."

Major General Yoshioka immediately asked the Chief of Staff: "We've been pursuing for seven days, employing every offensive measure, and not once have we been able to break through the enemy's blocking forces. If the enemy has indeed set an ambush this time, they must have deployed a substantial force. If our army dispatches large units on both flanks during the pursuit, we might turn the enemy's ambush against them and engage fully. The units catching up behind can then encircle the enemy. Otherwise, we're just chasing behind the enemy, driving them back into their fortified defensive lines—completely useless."

The Chief of Staff still felt this was too reckless and asked: "Should we report to Headquarters?"

At the mention of Headquarters, Major General Yoshioka's mind conjured the baby face of Second Headquarters Chief of Staff Ishiwara Kanji. In terms of ability, Yoshioka acknowledged that Ishiwara was quite formidable. However, during the landing operations, Ishiwara had ordered Yoshioka to withdraw just when he was about to break through the Northeast Army's defensive line. Yoshioka believed the Northeast Army line really couldn't have held—it wasn't the trap Ishiwara claimed.

Now, even Yoshioka himself recognized that the enemy likely had an ambush prepared, so naturally he wouldn't be easily defeated. What bothered Yoshioka most was that many of Ishiwara's judgments seemed based on the premise that "the Japanese Army is inferior to the Northeast Army," which filled Yoshioka with distrust toward Ishiwara.

Since the Chief of Staff was so cautious, Yoshioka asked: "According to regulations, our army reports to Headquarters every hour. The last report was just sent, correct?"

"...Yes." The Chief of Staff's answer was somewhat hesitant. He had already guessed what Yoshioka intended to do.

As the Chief of Staff expected, Major General Yoshioka ordered: "The Division moves out immediately. Report the Division's actions in the next scheduled transmission."

Ishiwara Kanji's reaction was just as Yoshioka had anticipated. One hour later, when Ishiwara received the telegram, his first thought was: "The 29th Division has already broken away from the line." At this moment, the 29th Division was 20 kilometers from the nearest 35th Division, which was itself being blocked by the Northeast Army during its pursuit. There was no way to quickly turn and level the line.

"Send a telegram to the 29th Division!" Ishiwara's voice was full of anger. The communications officer immediately took out his notebook. Ishiwara paced with his hands behind his back, wanting to sneer in his fury. Ever since he had accepted Nagata Tetsuzan's advice about "a gentleman is watchful in solitude" three months ago, Ishiwara hadn't sneered in a long time. Now he finally forced himself to hold back.

Calming down, Ishiwara turned to Commander Ugaki Kazushige: "Commander, my apologies—this subordinate was too agitated. Please allow me to issue orders directly to the 29th Division and the relief forces."

Though Ugaki was quite displeased internally, not a trace of displeasure showed in his expression. After two months of working together, Ugaki fully recognized Ishiwara's military capabilities—yet he also had to reluctantly confirm that Ishiwara was absolutely not a qualified subordinate.

With Ishiwara's understanding of military affairs, at a headquarters-level command structure like the Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Force, Ishiwara could competently serve in any position from Chief of Staff to Division Commander. This should have made him a talent any faction would dream of having. However, Ishiwara often forgot that he lived in normal human society. In normal human society, what truly determined a soldier's future was precisely the time outside of war.

But now was the time to utilize Ishiwara's military abilities. Ugaki didn't believe his life's endpoint was as an Army Minister or Chief of the General Staff. Ugaki believed he should become Prime Minister of Japan. Only in that position would Ugaki have the opportunity to realize his ambitions.

With the tolerance befitting one who employs talent, Ugaki calmly replied: "The Commander approves the Chief of Staff's request."

Having received permission, Ishiwara turned and dictated loudly to the communications officer: "Headquarters surmises that the 29th Division command believes the enemy will set an ambush and wishes to engage through an active offensive. Headquarters judges that the 29th Division is about to come under enemy attack. Therefore, Second Headquarters orders the 29th Division to immediately halt its advance and establish defensive positions on nearby high ground, in order to fully demonstrate the 29th Division's combat effectiveness in the coming battle."

The communications officer finished recording Ishiwara's order and looked at him with astonishment. The content of this order defied description. If events truly unfolded this way, it meant Ishiwara's understanding of both enemy and friendly forces far exceeded everyone else at Second Headquarters.

"Go send it quickly!" Ishiwara ordered. Without paying further attention to the communications officer, he bent over the map searching for the latest positions. Moments later, Ishiwara found his target. He called loudly to another communications officer: "Order Major Aizawa Saburo to lead his unit immediately to Height 401. He doesn't need to worry about anything else—just take Height 401 and hold Height 401. That completes his mission."

Almost simultaneously, at the Korean Front Line Command, Chief of Staff Cheng Ruofan also issued orders: "Order the 3126th Regiment to take Height 401 and hold it. Order the nearby 4429th and 1319th Regiments to move toward Height 401. If the 3126th Regiment captures Height 401, they will accept 3126th Regiment command on site and establish a defensive position. Also prepare a withdrawal route."

Commander Xu Chengfeng studied Height 401. This high ground was located 10 kilometers from the Japanese 29th Division's flank. Holding Height 401 would prevent other divisions from the Second Manchuria-Mongolia Headquarters from reinforcing the 29th Division. According to the map, the Northeast Army's 7th Corps was preparing to launch an offensive against the 29th Division—not an ambush, but a frontal assault.

At 11:42 AM, Major Aizawa Saburo led his regiment through the cold Korean mountains in winter. Height 401 was now visible ahead. As a member of the "Japan Future Society," Aizawa hadn't expected to be promoted from lieutenant to major within three months. And after the unit's officers fell while leading charges, he had become acting regimental commander.

After battle after battle, Aizawa no longer harbored the slightest doubt about Ishiwara's command abilities. Upon receiving orders, he acted with full effort. "Faster! Pick up the pace!" Aizawa shouted, urging the unit forward.

The regiment had been force-marching for a long time; everyone was gasping for breath. White vapor from their mouths and noses swirled around the soldiers' heads, growing ever thicker.

At that moment, a scout running toward them shouted as he reached Aizawa: "Report, Regimental Commander Aizawa! Enemy forces spotted ahead—they're also contesting Height 401!"

Aizawa immediately felt his trust in Ishiwara was justified. If the enemy was also fighting for Height 401, this location must be important to both armies. Regimental Commander Aizawa bellowed: "All units, discard anything unnecessary! Double-time—we must take that height first!"

Canteens, cotton overcoats—the Japanese discarded all encumbrances and quickened their pace toward the height. On the other side, the Northeast Army had also spotted the Japanese racing for the height and likewise increased their speed.

When the 4429th and 1319th Regiments arrived at Height 401 half an hour later, they found vicious hand-to-hand combat raging on and around the height. According to the Northeast Army's infantry manual, close combat was only to be used in the most desperate situations. From the look of Height 401, there were no constructed fortifications at all—most likely both sides had exchanged fire using the terrain, then the Japanese had charged into the Northeast Army's positions and initiated melee combat.

The two regiments didn't pause for an instant, immediately launching their assault on the position. At the same time, large numbers of Japanese suddenly appeared from another direction—some charging toward Height 401, others angling across to try to block the two Northeast Army regiments' reinforcement.

Moments later, on the new front line, both sides were locked in fierce combat. Neither side could gain the upper hand.

The Northeast Army's radios were distributed down to every regiment, so the Northeast Army Front Line Command received the news before Ishiwara. Xu Chengfeng tossed aside his red and blue pencil and sneered. Then he laughed several times, venting his frustration. Xu Chengfeng praised: "No wonder the Chairman has mentioned Ishiwara Kanji several times. When he organized the Pyongyang withdrawal, we thought he was merely quick-witted, extremely cunning in battle, slippery as an eel. We didn't expect his abilities to be far more than that!"

Cheng Ruofan wasn't so unhappy. Having finished reading the latest battle report, he ordered the radio operator to telegram the 7th Corps: "Since you've already gained the advantage, do not launch an assault against a Japanese division command that has already prepared for a desperate defense. Annihilate the disorganized Japanese as quickly as possible, then immediately withdraw. The three regiments contesting Height 401 will conclude combat within 20-30 minutes and disengage from the Japanese. The 7th Corps Command is advised to take note."

After Cheng Ruofan finished issuing orders, Xu Chengfeng laughed: "I'm afraid the 7th Corps won't be happy."

"Unhappy?" Cheng Ruofan wasn't unhappy at all. "If they're unhappy, they can take it out on Ishiwara Kanji later when there's an opportunity. The Japanese 29th Division suddenly shifted from aggressive reconnaissance to consolidating their position and defending in place—that must be Ishiwara's order. If things had followed the original trajectory, the 7th Corps could have completely shattered and devastated the Japanese 29th Division. I believe Ishiwara has already understood our tactics. He's truly talented."

Hearing Cheng Ruofan's high praise for Ishiwara, Xu Chengfeng nodded and asked: "Ruofan, are you looking forward to a showdown with Ishiwara?"

Cheng Ruofan answered frankly: "If the opportunity arises, I certainly won't let it pass."

After praising Ishiwara, Cheng Ruofan's tone carried a hint of sympathy: "But a commander like that, unable to fully demonstrate his abilities given the current unfavorable strategic situation—that's actually a blessing. Making our troops fight mountains of corpses and seas of blood against a respectable opponent... I'd rather launch easily victorious attacks against incompetent enemies."

Xu Chengfeng was rather shocked. Was he really saying this so openly? But after a moment, Xu Chengfeng also nodded approvingly. As soldiers, when reading famous historical battles and feeling excited, it was fine to yearn for magnificent campaigns and boast a bit.

*The truly skilled warrior wins no great fame.* As soldiers, to look forward to mountains of corpses and seas of blood for one's own satisfaction was already a moral crime!

Cheng Ruofan's mentality was the healthy military mentality, and this made Xu Chengfeng quite admiring.

Cheng Ruofan continued sighing: "*The highest form of warfare is to attack strategy itself; the next, to attack alliances; the next, to attack armies; and the lowest is to attack cities.* To reverse the political passivity caused by strategic passivity, the Japanese government must keep attacking until they can't anymore. Excellent soldiers like Nagata Tetsuzan and Ishiwara Kanji must understand this, yet are powerless to change it. What will they do next?"

Xu Chengfeng couldn't answer this question. He looked toward the other senior commanders in the headquarters and saw everyone going about their own business—not a single person attempted an answer. Xu Chengfeng understood their reaction. Rationally analyzing an ongoing enemy was inherently difficult. Not to mention, no one really knew what would happen.

Half an hour later, the Japanese 29th Division's barely stabilized position suddenly came under fierce bombardment from Northeast Army 120mm artillery. Division Commander Major General Yoshioka gripped his saber tightly, preparing to face the Northeast Army's general assault. At this moment, his heart was full of shame.

He hadn't listened to Chief of Staff Ishiwara's advice, believing that as long as he was careful enough, he could see through the Northeast Army's ambush. The result was such great losses. It made Yoshioka regret and feel ashamed.

That the Japanese Army had such an enormous gap with the Northeast Army in mountain warfare also filled Yoshioka with shame. That the Imperial Japanese Army had fallen so far behind—Yoshioka truly couldn't accept it.

Yet as the bombardment continued, the Northeast Army withdrew like a receding tide, quickly vanishing in their retreat direction. As the units needing cover reached safety, the Northeast Army's 120mm artillery groups also ceased firing—presumably also beginning their withdrawal.

Just as the 29th Division command suspected some trick, the radio received a telegram: reinforcements from the 35th Division would arrive in approximately one hour. Only then did Division Commander Yoshioka understand—the Northeast Army's withdrawal was to avoid unplanned combat. This discipline exerted pressure on Yoshioka no less than the Northeast Army's combat effectiveness itself.

With the Northeast Army's level of organization and discipline, only by cornering them with nowhere to escape might annihilation be possible. To achieve this, the Japanese Army would have to prepare extremely thoroughly.

News of the 29th Division's severe blow quickly spread throughout the Second Expeditionary Force Headquarters. All six divisions in the Second Expeditionary Force's order of battle now dared not break away from the line in relentless pursuit. Instead, they advanced northward maintaining a tight, continuous front.

The two Chiefs of Staff, Cheng Ruofan and Ishiwara Kanji, coincidentally praised each other:

"For the Japanese Army to restore all units to full strength while their supply lines continuously extend and they maintain the offensive—truly remarkable."

"For the enemy to complete reorganization so quickly—they are indeed a great enemy of the Empire."

As the strategically disadvantaged party, Ishiwara didn't dare openly praise the Northeast Army, and his tone inevitably carried a sour edge.

At this time, excluding the five divisions that had suffered heavy losses in the Pyongyang campaign and four reserve divisions not participating in the pursuit, the Japanese pursuit force consisted of 17 divisions from the Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Force and 6 divisions from the Second Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Force—23 divisions totaling 600,000 troops.

The Northeast Army's Western Front with five corps and Eastern Front with four corps—360,000 troops in total—continued their gradual withdrawal according to the operational plan, maintaining continuous contact with the Japanese.

One hundred fifty kilometers took both sides three days. During those three days, no matter what provocations or lures the Japanese attempted, the Northeast Army continued its withdrawal with a discipline the Japanese found "nauseating." Only when Japanese provocations went too far would they respond with 120mm heavy artillery bombardment against overly forward Japanese units.

At noon on January 23rd, the sky was overcast, and snow-bearing clouds were gradually building. Nagata Tetsuzan, who had appeared calm for over ten days but was inwardly extremely anxious, immediately suggested to Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Force Commander Terauchi Hisaichi: "Commander, the enemy's air force can no longer conduct reconnaissance on our forces. Though the enemy will certainly consider that we might launch a fierce attack, we can use this opportunity to attack. Once we meet resistance, we begin withdrawing, drawing the enemy toward our prepared counterattack positions."

Terauchi Hisaichi's eyes lit up. These past days he had been under enormous pressure from Imperial Headquarters. The questions asking "After more than ten days of pursuit, why haven't you been able to defeat the enemy in the pursuit campaign?" were already considerable pressure.

Those who had supported Terauchi, hoping he could achieve greater military merit to surpass Second Expeditionary Force Commander Ugaki Kazushige and be promoted to general first—their eager expectations created even greater pressure for Terauchi.

While many favored Terauchi, he wasn't their only choice. If Terauchi didn't win the competition, at least some current supporters would choose more valuable candidates. After recovering Pyongyang, Terauchi probably wouldn't need to commit seppuku to atone. Yet the pressure from the possibilities for his future position made Terauchi increasingly uneasy.

Hearing Chief of Staff Nagata's suggestion, Terauchi asked: "Is this Okamura-kun's proposal?"

"Yes," Chief of Staff Nagata immediately replied. At this point, Okamura had completely aligned with Nagata's side. Even if Nagata publicly stated that Okamura wasn't his man, no one would believe it. That being the case, readily accepting responsibility was the responsible attitude.

At that moment, Xu Chengfeng signed the order: "Approve the 7th, 8th, 9th, 33rd, and 41st Corps to begin the counteroffensive."

Thirty minutes later, the artillery preparation began for the 7th, 8th, 9th, 33rd, and 41st Corps, which had already moved into their counterattack positions. Across a 50-kilometer front, under advancing barrages, 20,000 lead troops from the 200,000-strong Northeast Army began their assault toward selected targets across a 50-kilometer-wide front.

The Japanese reacted quickly. Having pursued through the brutal Korean winter for over ten days and a thousand li, the Japanese heavy artillery groups had managed to bring their guns along with the main force—at the cost of hundreds of dead pack horses and thousands more exhausted.

Facing the Northeast Army offensive, Japanese 150mm heavy artillery groups quickly began their bombardment. Though the five Northeast Army corps encountered resistance in their first wave, they didn't stop. Units continued advancing in highly dispersed combat team formations, quickly engaging the Japanese vanguard that had been swept by Northeast Army barrages.