Chapter Sixty-Three: The Deal

Straight-Up Matsubara wore a gentle smile on his face. “Mr. Lin, let me put it this way, I really have no connection whatsoever with the army of the Great Japanese Empire.” Yang Xiaolin replied, “Oh, that's a pity. To be honest, Mr. Matsubara, I recently found a bag on a Russian; inside were some Russian documents. I thought the Japanese army might be interested in them and planned to sell them to Japan. But since you have no ties with the Japanese military, never mind. Perhaps I'll ask someone else if they're interested, and if not, I'll sell them to the newspapers. Thank you for the gun, I'll be on my way.”

With those words, Yang Xiaolin turned to leave, but Straight-Up Matsubara hastily called out, “Wait! Mr. Lin, what kind of documents are those?”

Yang Xiaolin had no intention of truly departing; the bag represented an opportunity for him. He stopped, leaning in toward Matsubara as if sharing a secret, “Mr. Matsubara, this is a major secret! The Russians are planning to build fortresses here to fight against you Japanese. The documents detail the fortresses the Russians intend to construct! But I won't tell you more—you're just a wandering samurai earning a living. This has nothing to do with you.”

Matsubara’s expression changed noticeably. Yang Xiaolin hadn’t yet revealed that the documents also contained information on Russian military preparations against Japanese aggression. Yet Matsubara believed that a mere bandit could hardly foresee the coming Russo-Japanese war.

Still, his instincts told him that the papers in Yang Xiaolin’s hands could be vital to the Great Japanese Empire.

“Ah, Mr. Yang, you don't know, though I have no direct ties to the Japanese army, I do have friends in the military. Could you let me see those documents? I'll ask my friends, and if they're interested, I believe you could fetch a price beyond your imagination.”

As Matsubara said this, he draped his arm around Yang Xiaolin’s shoulder. He was half a head shorter than Yang Xiaolin, making the gesture somewhat comical.

Yang Xiaolin seemed pleasantly surprised, “Really? That's wonderful. I'll get them right away. Mr. Matsubara, please wait here for a moment.”

Matsubara nodded and personally saw Yang Xiaolin to the door. Yang Xiaolin returned to his room, rousing Kong Luodi, who was still sleeping at the desk. “Advisor Kong, wake up. Bring me my bag.”

Kong Luodi looked up, bleary-eyed. “Chief, you’re awake?”

“I am! I’ve already been out and back. Where’s my bag? The one I took from the Russian.”

Kong Luodi stood, retrieving the bag from beneath the bed. “Don’t worry, I know how much you value it, so I kept it safe for you.”

Yang Xiaolin took the bag. “I just closed a deal with the Japanese. I’ll give them some of the contents and see if they’ll provide us with instructors.”

“Instructors?” Kong Luodi was surprised. Yang Xiaolin nodded, “Yes. I’ve decided—when we return, we’ll spend the winter training our brothers to become true warriors, like the Japanese. Also, we’ll reorganize the villages and strongholds around Gulu Mountain to create our own base of operations. That land, from now on, won’t listen to the court—it’ll listen to us.”

All traces of sleep vanished from Kong Luodi’s face. “Chief, are you raising your banner in open rebellion against the court?”

Yang Xiaolin smiled, “We are, but it's too soon to raise the banner openly. Once our base is established and our troops are ready, then we’ll tear off that mask. At that point, we won’t be mere bandits—we’ll be rebels!”

As he spoke, he took several documents from the bag. These only described the fortresses the Russians were about to build; Yang Xiaolin intended to sell only these to the Japanese for now.

Because the locations of Russian fortresses would eventually be discovered by the Japanese, as soon as construction began, the secret would be out. Thus, these documents had a shelf life. He wasn't ready to sell the actual Russian war plans, which might be more valuable later—or perhaps worthless. No matter; even if Yang Xiaolin wasn’t a businessman, he understood that hoarding always carried risks.

Kong Luodi evidently agreed with Yang Xiaolin’s cautious approach. “Chief, wise indeed—stockpile grain, wait before claiming kingship.”

Yang Xiaolin glanced at him, “What are you talking about? Don’t force analogies! I’m thinking we need to establish our own system first, a steady flow of funds to support our ability to fight large battles.”

Kong Luodi’s gaze grew uncertain, as though he understood and yet didn’t. Yang Xiaolin explained, “Put simply, I want our people to have enough to eat, to follow us wholeheartedly. I want to build schools in our base! We need our own arsenal! Only when these things are accomplished will we truly be qualified to vie for the land.”

---

Kong Luodi’s face changed. “Chief, won’t that cost a lot of money?”

Yang Xiaolin hesitated; he hadn’t considered the financial aspect until Kong Luodi brought it up. Now, he realized that any one of these ambitions would require a vast sum.

Yang Xiaolin had fully embraced his role as a bandit. What to do when a bandit has no money? He selected two documents, paused briefly, then nodded, “Yes—we need to pull off a major deal.”

He placed the two pages before Straight-Up Matsubara. The documents were in Russian, but Matsubara didn’t ask for a translation; he simply took them and read with ease. Yang Xiaolin knew this was yet another area where he fell short.

There were fewer than a thousand words, but Matsubara spent over ten minutes reading them, carefully studying each sentence, seeking meaning both on and between the lines. When he finished, Yang Xiaolin could see excitement in his expression.

“Mr. Lin, just these two pages?”

Yang Xiaolin replied, “There’s more—over fifty pages in all. These two are samples. Mr. Matsubara, please advise me, what price could they fetch?”

Matsubara handed the two pages back. “Mr. Lin, how about this—you sell them directly to me. Name your price.”

Yang Xiaolin laughed, displaying magnanimity. “Mr. Matsubara, you’re treating me too formally. Like you said, we’re friends! If you need them, take them. Just help me secure those instructors.”

“Fine, Mr. Yang, you are indeed straightforward. In that case, among those with me, several have served in the army. I’ll send ten men with you to Gulu Mountain; this winter, they’ll train your troops. I guarantee you'll be satisfied come spring.”

Yang Xiaolin shook his head, “No, twenty officers—no less.”

Matsubara stared at him for a moment, then agreed, “Alright.”

After Yang Xiaolin left, Matsubara leaned back in his chair and exhaled deeply. He opened his desk and took out a small bottle of Japanese sake.

Matsubara could hold his liquor, but he disliked Chinese spirits. Just as he looked down on the Chinese, he had no desire to drink with those he disliked. Whenever the bandits gathered to drink, he was always the first to "fall drunk."

He took a white ceramic cup from another drawer, poured himself a drink, and sipped slowly. To him, the bandits’ drinking habits were an insult to the art of drinking; sake should be savored, its flavor appreciated, just like Japanese sake.

His gaze grew distant as his mind churned over various questions. If this intelligence were delivered to the Japanese military and verified, he would surely receive commendation—a great honor for a samurai loyal to the Emperor.

But Yang Xiaolin made Matsubara uneasy. From his request for instructors, Matsubara could tell this man would not settle for being a bandit his whole life. In western Liaoning, there was another such man—Zhang Zuolin—who had already refused Matsubara’s offer of cooperation. Would this “Yang the Demon” become another Zhang Zuolin?

Matsubara tapped his cup lightly. Today’s interaction convinced him that Yang Xiaolin could be drawn to their side, yet there was an elusive quality about him.

“Report!”

Masao Naifu entered, standing upright at the door. Matsubara set down his cup. “Mr. Masao, what is it?”

Masao Naifu handed him a document. “Sir, this is the intelligence we just received—negotiations between the Qing government and Russia regarding troop withdrawals have broken down.”

“Oh? What’s the reason?”

---

“Russia’s condition is that the Qing must eliminate Yang Xiaolin and Feng Delin’s bandit forces before they will reopen talks.”

Masao Naifu continued, “From our sources, the Qing government has mobilized sixty thousand troops from the interior, preparing to attack Gulu Mountain come spring. Their commander is General Zeng Qi of Shengjing, and the Russians will also send troops to act jointly with the Qing army.”

Upon hearing this, Matsubara slowly rose and paced twice before his desk. “Are you certain they’re targeting Gulu Mountain, not Gaojia Village?”

Masao Naifu replied, “Gulu Mountain, not Gaojia Village.”

Matsubara gently swirled his cup. “It seems we must help Gulu Mountain after all. Masao, I have a task for you: tomorrow, take two company commanders, seventeen squad leaders, and Yang the Demon back to Gulu Mountain. This winter, you are responsible for training the bandit force there. If they withstand the Qing and Russian assault next spring, I’ll request commendation for you from the military.”

Masao Naifu did not accept, his face filled with indignation. “Sir, I don’t want to be among these Qing men any longer. I am a soldier; my place is the battlefield! If we have surplus weapons, we should arm more Japanese youths, not these Qing people. I’d rather return home to train new recruits!”

“Baka!”

Matsubara offered no explanation, but raised his hand and slapped Masao Naifu twice. “Don’t you know that your assignment in Qing China is the Emperor’s command?”

Masao stood motionless as he was struck, remaining silent afterward.

Matsubara shook his aching wrist. “Soon we’ll be at war with Russia. These people will be our cannon fodder—they can die in place of our soldiers of the Great Japanese Empire! Train a bandit well, and we may save the life of a loyal samurai in the future!”

Upon hearing this, Masao Naifu finally lowered his head. “Hai!”

Matsubara was satisfied, smiling. “If Yang Xiaolin can make the Russians abandon Feng Delin and focus on him first, there must be something about him that frightens the Russians. Masao, you are also to observe this man closely—I am very curious what he will do next.”

Meanwhile, more than two hundred kilometers north of Gaojia Village, in Liaoyang, Russian General Akberlier was discussing this same issue concerning Yang Xiaolin. “Commander, I can tell you clearly, do not treat Yang the Demon as an ordinary bandit! Once our plans fell into his hands, there is a high chance he’ll leak them to the Japanese! We must immediately adjust our deployments!”

Lopatkin cast a glance at Akberlier. “Enough. You should know I’ve already submitted the original report. Now all of Russia is gathering supplies according to the previous plan. You want me to send another report to overturn everything, start anew, just because a secretary carelessly lost a bag to a bandit? My dear Akberlier, that's not a wise idea.”

General Akberlier leaned forward, hands pressed on the commander’s desk. “Commander, we cannot shirk responsibility and conceal the truth, lest we sacrifice many Russian soldiers! If you won't report this, allow me to escalate the matter myself—I’ll take full responsibility!”

Lopatkin shrugged. “I've said all I can, Akberlier. If you wish, do as you please, but I assure you, no one will accept your suggestion.”

In truth, Akberlier understood well: should war break out between Russia and Japan, this region would be engulfed in flames—a major battle. Once a campaign of such magnitude begins, steering it in another direction becomes extremely difficult, requiring immense resources and manpower.

The senior generals above had no inkling of Japan’s true threat, nor did they grasp how perilous the current situation was for Russia. They looked down on Japan, just like the commander; even knowing the plans had been compromised, he insisted that once the fortresses were built, the Japanese would not be able to take them.

His hope of persuading the high command to change course was exceedingly slim. Despite this, Akberlier refused to give up—he would do his utmost to convince them.