174: lunch

The next day, a continuous drizzle added further gloom to the besieged city of Shanghai, already trapped in the throes of war.

The Sheng family mansion on Xiafei Road carried an unusual, stern, and forbidding air.

When General Zhang Zhizhong was led into the dining room by a servant,

he couldn't suppress a flicker of surprise in his eyes upon his first glimpse of Lu Fan.

Lu Fan, now showing his true face, appeared to be just over thirty, with a refined and scholarly demeanor and a calm expression.

He carried none of the sharp, cutting aura one would expect from a military man.

It was momentarily difficult to connect him with the iron-willed, resolute Security Team captain who had slain countless enemies.

"Uncle Zhang, this is Lu Fan, Boss Lu. Let's talk over the meal," Sheng Aiyi said with a smile, stepping forward with graceful composure.

"Several months ago, Boss Lu returned from England, filled with patriotic fervor."

After they were seated, she casually outlined Lu Fan's background, then added as if in passing, "Uncle Zhang,

the batch of urgently needed medicines and supplies I previously donated—the true donor was actually Boss Lu.

I merely played the messenger, passing on his generosity."

Upon hearing this, the look of surprise on Zhang Zhizhong's face deepened.

To have started preparing for the war a month in advance—such foresight was truly astonishing.

He raised his teacup and addressed Lu Fan solemnly: "That batch of supplies relieved a critical shortage at the front and saved many of our soldiers.

On duty today, I cannot drink, so I, Zhang Zhizhong, will use tea in place of wine. On behalf of the officers and men at the front, I toast you, Brother Lu.

Thank you, Boss Lu, for your righteous act of providing timely aid."

Lu Fan raised his cup in return: "You flatter me, General Zhang. It was merely my duty."

After several courses, the atmosphere had warmed considerably.

Lu Fan spoke his mind directly: "General Zhang, in your esteemed opinion, what is the key to this current major battle? And what are its prospects?"

Zhang Zhizhong lit a cigarette, his expression turning grave.

He pondered for a moment before speaking in a low voice: "This battle concerns the fate of our nation. It is not about temporary gains or losses in a single place.

The outcome will directly determine the future course of our Chinese nation—whether we submit or continue to resist."

He paused, his tone growing even heavier: "In my view, we must seize the early phase of the campaign, while our army's morale is high.

Concentrate superior forces and strike swiftly, sparing no cost to deliver a head-on blow to the Japanese Invaders.

If the war drags on, it would... be truly disadvantageous for us."

Hearing this, Sheng Aiyi frowned slightly and asked in confusion, "Uncle Zhang, our vast China has abundant land and resources and a huge population.

In a prolonged war, our advantages would surely become increasingly obvious. How could it be disadvantageous?"

Zhang Zhizhong sighed, dipped his finger in his tea, and roughly sketched a map of Shanghai on the tabletop.

"Little Seven, Shanghai is a coastal city with no natural defensive barriers.

The naval guns of the Japanese Invaders can cover a vast area.

Their aircraft carriers can launch and recover planes at any time, granting them air superiority.

If we cannot achieve a quick victory and get bogged down in a war of attrition, once the enemy reinforces, we'll be attacked from both front and rear, making the fight untenable.

If Shanghai falls, Nanjing will be in imminent danger.

If Nanjing falls, the fall of our nation will not be far off."

Zhang Zhizhong's analysis progressed step by step, based on harsh reality. Listening, Sheng Aiyi's face paled slightly, and she nodded silently.

Lu Fan listened quietly on the side, inwardly sighing. This Zhang Zhizhong indeed had sharp insight.

His assessment of the situation almost perfectly aligned with the historical conclusions of later generations. He was truly a far-sighted, renowned General.

At this point, Lu FanGo with the flow asked, "Then, in the General's view, how should we break the deadlock next?"

Zhang Zhizhong's gaze sharpened, and he stated decisively: "Only one word: Speed!

We must strike with the force of a thunderbolt, concentrating all our superior manpower and firepower to hit the enemy's core directly.

Strive to crush them, or at least drive them back into the sea, before their reinforcements arrive in large numbers and their navy and air force can unleash their full power!

This is the method of Blitzkrieg. Though risky, it is currently our only chance for victory!

Boss Lu, what do you think?"

Lu Fan understood clearly. In the historical Battle of Shanghai, the man before him had indeed employed a similar aggressive strategy.

But ultimately, due to various reasons, he failed to achieve the strategic objective and instead became mired in an even more grueling war of attrition.

He knew that arguing about the feasibility of the tactics now was pointless; the inertia of history was immense.

Moreover, Zhang Zhizhong had his own command structure and practical considerations.

Therefore, he stopped discussing tactics and directlyCut in the practical support he could offer.

Lu Fan spoke calmly: "General Zhang, I dare not presume to comment on strategy and tactics.

But regarding logistical supplies, I might be able to offer some modest assistance."

As his words fell, Sheng Aiyi handed over a list.

Thirty tons of grain, ten tons of medical gauze, various emergency medicines, anti-inflammatory drugs, anesthetics... totaling three thousand standard crates.

"On behalf of the front-line officers and men, I, Zhang, toast Boss Lu once more, thanking Mr. Lu for his righteous act of providing timely aid."

Zhang Zhizhong raised his teacup in a toast from across the table.

The items were all excellent, precisely what was urgently needed in the current war.

But they were not enough. He was calculating in his mind how to broach the subject with Lu Fan, to have his tank squad cooperate in fighting the Japanese.

After all, he was a full-fledged military district Commander. It was awkward to seek firepower support from a civilian organization!

Facing the contemplative Zhang Zhizhong, Lu Fan spoke nonchalantly: "Commander Zhang, aside from these logistical supplies,

I have a batch of Thompson Submachine Guns—eight thousand of them..."

Hearing about firearms, Zhang Zhizhong's hand holding the teacup trembled slightly. His mind raced: "What? Eight thousand Thompson Submachine Guns?"

His attention instantly snapped out of his mental quagmire. His breathing suddenly grew heavy, and he looked at Lu Fan with a serious expression.

He saw the other man continue with utter composure: "I will also provide one hundred and ten 120mm Mortars, with two thousand shells.

Additionally, I have a batch of bulletproof vests, which should arrive in the next couple of days.

I'll have Seventh Miss Sheng deliver them to you then."

Eight thousand submachine guns and one hundred 120mm Mortars with two thousand shells, offered in one go.

This General, accustomed to great storms and waves, was momentarily speechless. Holding his teacup, he stood frozen in place, his face filled with incredulous shock!

Eight thousand submachine guns? What did that mean?

With these weapons, he could directly double the firepower of two divisions under his command.

And that one hundred 120mm Mortars were even more extraordinary—that was 120mm caliber!

With these mortars, he could double the firepower of another two divisions under his command.

The problem of insufficient firepower that had plagued him was now effectively alleviated. Instantly, he felt emboldened.

With this batch of weapons, who needed tactical maneuvers? Who needed tank support?

Just push forward directly, launch a full-scale offensive, blitz the Japanese.

I can do it. I'll go right at them.

"Boss... Boss Lu... are you serious?"

Zhang Zhizhong finally managed to find his voice, which was even a bit hoarse from excessive excitement.

He understood all too well what this batch of supplies meant for the upcoming Blitzkrieg.

This was no longer just providing timely aid; it was practically installing the boiler room right beside them.

"Absolutely true," Lu Fan affirmed with a nod. "The supplies are already in Miss Sheng's warehouse. The Commander can send someone to collect them at any time."

Zhang Zhizhong abruptly stood up, his movement so forceful he even knocked over the chair behind him.

"In these critical times, I won't stand on ceremony. I'll have someone come to collect them shortly."

As he spoke, he saluted Lu Fan with great solemnity: "Boss Lu, your noble righteousness!"

Lu Fan returned the salute modestly and spoke earnestly: "It is my duty. Now, let's discuss matters of coordinated combat!"