Chapter Three: Pillars of the Nation

Robert clearly already had a plan in mind. "How about this? Since this is our first business deal, let’s consider it a good omen. Twenty lathes in total, including two large ones. I’m thinking eighty thousand pounds."

Yang Xiaolin smiled to himself. Robert was truly naive; eighty thousand pounds at this time was enough for him to return to England and start a fairly large factory. However, Yang didn't say anything. Stolen money didn't weigh on his conscience, especially the paper currency, which, apart from rubles and yen, was useless in the Northeast anyway.

"Have those machines delivered to Fushun by tomorrow. I have a trading house there, and they will receive them. Also, if Mr. Robert has no urgent business, I would like to invite you to stay here for a few days, as we will likely be starting a second collaboration soon."

Just as Yang Xiaolin had returned to the mountains, Huang Bao had used Yang’s gold to open a trading house in Fengtian, using trade as a front to gather intelligence for Yang. A branch had also been established in Fushun. Although Huang Bao hadn't provided any valuable leads yet, a significant amount of gold and silver had already been spent. Still, the paths had been opened, so having him transport the machines from Robert shouldn't be difficult.

Machines couldn't be used immediately upon arrival. Besides equipment, an arsenal required skilled personnel. Yang had originally intended to select miners and slowly learn the ropes with them, but that was no longer necessary. Sun Yat-sen was arriving soon to negotiate on behalf of the Revive China Society, and if all went well, Yang could leverage the manpower of overseas Chinese.

As for the "second collaboration" Yang mentioned, he wanted to purchase more firearms. The rifles currently used by his troops were of inconsistent calibers, which brought great inconvenience to operations and logistics. He planned to standardize the caliber, reorganize his troops, and equip them with appropriate firepower.

His brothers outside had been doing well; the companies he sent out had all established a foothold. Gu Tianming, upon arriving in Qingyuan, treated the local gentry to a meal, promising that as long as they didn't oppose him, he would not touch their interests. Sui Binghe already knew the magistrate of Liuhe County; he sent him a hundred taels of silver, and the magistrate treated him quite courteously.

Things went even more smoothly in Baishan. The magistrate there was already insecure about his position, believing that while being an official was meant to bring honor to his ancestors, it would be meaningless if the imperial court were to posthumously condemn him. Especially after hearing that Biaozi had led his troops down the mountains, he had repeatedly petitioned for a transfer, but the court hadn't approved it. Just as the magistrate was feeling overwhelmed with anxiety, Chen De acted as an intermediary and connected him with Biaozi.

After meeting, the magistrate and Biaozi hit it off immediately. Before the meal was even finished, the magistrate proposed becoming sworn brothers, and Biaozi, of course, did not refuse. Once they swore that they did not seek to be born on the same day, month, and year, but hoped to die on the same day, the magistrate finally felt at ease.

The Fourth and Fifth Companies were much the same. Qian Yao wrote a letter to the magistrate of Tonghua, suggesting peaceful coexistence, while Liu Xianhe, clearly inheriting his father’s underworld ways, simply sent a knife to the magistrate of Xinbin, with the implicit meaning being self-evident.

Regardless of the methods used, none of them returned empty-handed. During this period, the force had expanded. Biaozi's ranks grew the fastest; he absorbed several small local bandit groups and recruited villagers from nearby settlements. In less than a month, his forces had doubled to nearly a thousand men.

Therefore, a reorganization was essential. To put it mildly, the current company-level structure could not accommodate the growth of the men. In some companies, a single squad had grown to over a hundred people, which was nothing short of a joke.

Yang Xiaolin believed that a squad should consist of sixteen men: one machine gun with four gunners, one sniper, two demolition experts, and two riflemen. Rifles were currently only equipped by the American military, as most nations viewed them as cumbersome due to their slow rate of fire and difficult reloading.

However, Yang knew that the rifle's greatest advantage lay in its overwhelming firepower. Especially in close combat, a rifle was like a small piece of artillery; as long as the rifleman remained calm, a single gun could inflict massive casualties on the enemy.

Handguns also needed to be issued. Currently, handguns were considered useless by most militaries, carried only by commanders to display their status. Yet, in close combat, their role was far superior to a bayonet. In a face-to-face struggle, there were few chances to land six consecutive stabs, but with a handgun, one could fire six rounds in rapid succession, and the barrel could be adjusted with great flexibility.

Yang planned to adopt a regimental structure. Each regiment would have an infirmary; each battalion would have an artillery company; each company would have a machine-gun platoon; and each platoon would have a specialized "sharp-knife" squad. Naturally, if his brothers were to become regimental commanders, he, the "Commander Yang," would have to be a brigade commander. He would simply appoint himself—a simple matter.

***

Therefore, he would be spending a lot of money. Development was, after all, a time for spending.

As Yang Xiaolin began to spend his funds, the Qing soldiers in Fengtian City stood on the parade ground. They had been standing for two full hours. The July sun beat down on their faces, and the fully armed soldiers were clearly struggling to hold their ground. Several men who had indulged in wine the night before were pale, sweat streaming down their cheeks.

Yet they dared not move, for Zaitao stood at the very front of the formation, straight as a ramrod in his military uniform. As long as Zaitao did not order them to disperse, no one dared to budge.

Zaitao was young, tall, and quite handsome. He held his head high, looking at the troops below, his eyes filled with worry. He had long known that these men were incapable of battle, but he had never imagined they would be this pathetic; after only two hours of standing, some were already collapsing.

"At ease!"

Zaitao finally spoke. Although he didn't order them to dismiss, the command caused a low sigh of relief to ripple through the entire formation, as if a great burden had been lifted.

Zaitao walked slowly down from the platform and approached a soldier who was yawning. "What? Craving opium?"

The soldier nodded. "Prince, I haven't had a puff since this morning. It’s unbearable."

Zhao Erxun, standing nearby, hurriedly said, "Prince, this is one of our veterans. Don't look at him like this now, but if you let him have a few puffs, his marksmanship is unmatched in all of Fengtian."

Zaitao nodded, circled the soldier, and took the German rifle from his back. "Just how accurate are you?"

The soldier yawned again. "I'm not boasting, Prince, but I can hit a sparrow on a tree from a hundred paces away!"

Zaitao loaded the rifle and handed it to him. "Take a shot and show me."

The soldier looked troubled and didn't reach for the gun. "You have to let me have a puff first."

Zaitao smiled, suddenly raised the rifle, and fired a shot.

The report rang out, and a sparrow on a large tree over a hundred paces away fell instantly! The crowd was shocked, and Zhao Erxun was the quickest to react: "Excellent marksmanship! The Prince truly has the aim of a god!"

Amidst thunderous applause, Zaitao patted the soldier on the shoulder. "I don't need a puff to shoot accurately! From today on, you are no longer a soldier. Take off your uniform and get out!"

The surrounding soldiers were stunned. Zaitao strode back to the platform. "I don't care how you lived your lives before, but from today on, I will turn you into real soldiers! If there are any more opium smokers, stand up and get out now! Stop wasting your energy in opium dens and brothels! Do you see this portrait behind me?"

He tapped the wanted poster of Yang Xiaolin on the pillar behind him. "This is a bandit! He has no pay, no weapons; he relies on nothing but sheer grit, stealing guns and ammo from you to fight you, and yet he has beaten you into a scattered mess! Do you not feel any shame?!"

Zaitao looked at Zhao Erxun and let out a cold snort. "Over three thousand men stationed in Fengtian, and they fired two shots and you all ran like rabbits! It was the same when the Russians came in the Year of Gengzi! Besides running, what else can you do?"

The troops below were silent; no one dared to respond. Zaitao took a breath. "Of course, the imperial court is also at fault—lax in selecting generals, ineffective in governance, and in arrears with pay. These are the court’s mistakes. Now that I am here to lead you, let me say this: I will make up the back pay, but from today on, I am going to discipline you. Do you hear me?"

The Qing soldiers replied in a scattered, weak voice, "We hear you."

Zaitao shouted, "What did you say? I can't hear you!"

"We hear you!"

"Louder! I still can't hear you!"

"We hear you!"

"Good!"

Zaitao clapped his hands, and his personal guards brought over several large chests filled with gleaming silver. Zaitao said, "You see? I am not a man who makes empty promises. The money is here; it depends on your own skills to earn it. Now, run five kilometers outside the city! The first unit to return gets their pay!"

The Qing soldiers immediately began their five-kilometer run, never having exerted themselves with such intensity before.

Watching the soldiers dash off, Zhao Erxun sighed heavily. "Prince, these men were just bandits and local militia recruited after we arrived in Liaoxi; they are accustomed to laziness. To forge them into an elite force will surely not be a matter of a single day."

Zaitao remained standing rigid. "Isn't 'Yang the Devil' a bandit too? What he can do, I can do, and I will do it better! The Northeast is the dragon's lair of our Great Qing. Let me tell you, Magistrate Zhao, the Empress Dowager said I was sent here to suppress bandits, but I don't see it that way. If I came all the way from Beijing just to hunt bandits, wouldn't that be giving too much credit to Yang?"

Zhao Erxun asked, "Then what does the Prince mean?"

Zaitao smiled, speaking with supreme confidence: "I am going to build an elite force to crush Yang the Devil and drive out the Russians and the Japanese!"

Zhao Erxun gasped, his gaze toward Zaitao changing instantly. He was a young man, indeed, with no sense of the immensity of the world.

Zaitao clearly knew what Zhao Erxun was thinking. He said, "Don't doubt it. I will show those of you who don't believe. I have already ordered machines from Germany to build a factory in Fengtian so we can manufacture our own guns and cannons. Furthermore, I have invited several instructors from German military academies to establish a military academy modeled on the German system. I’ve even thought of the name: the Northeast Army Lecture Hall. I want those who covet our Great Qing to see that our dynasty will endure for ten thousand generations!"