143: Chapter 143 Telegram from Yan'an

The commander of the New Fourth Army's River Defense Garrison was named Wang Zhenshan, a veteran who had participated in the Long March.

He had spent the first half of his life amidst a hail of bullets and piles of corpses, long ago developing the ability to remain unfazed even if Mount Tai were to collapse before him.

But at this moment, his palms were drenched in sweat as he gripped the list that Company Commander Li Zhen had just delivered with the utmost urgency.

He might not have recognized every single name on the list.

But a few of them were names that resonated like thunder in his ears.

They were titans of the domestic academic world, figures whose every step could make their entire industry tremble.

These people were actually alive.

Furthermore, they had all been rescued, unscathed, from that living hell of Nanjing by a young man named Chen Xi.

Wang Zhenshan took a deep breath, feeling as if a fire were burning in his chest.

He suddenly grabbed the telephone on the desk and roared into the receiver.

"Connect me to the Rear Command! Get me the highest-level encrypted line!"

"It's a matter of life and death! Something monumental has happened!"

The intelligence, like an invisible bolt of lightning, streaked across the gloomy sky of the 1937 winter.

From the River Defense Garrison to the Army Headquarters, and then through radio stations that never went silent, it traversed thousands of miles to finally reach a humble cave dwelling hidden deep within the Loess Plateau.

Yanan, Yangjialing.

Inside the cave dwelling, several leaders wearing patched cotton coats, yet with eyes brighter than the stars, were gathered around a map, heatedly discussing the war situation.

A confidential secretary walked in hurriedly with a tense expression and handed a newly decrypted telegram to the leading middle-aged man, who possessed an elegant temperament and a hint of heroism between his brows.

"Vice Chairman Zhou, an urgent telegram from north of the river, highest level."

The middle-aged man addressed as Vice Chairman Zhou took the telegram, and with just one glance, his originally calm eyes instantly erupted with an indescribable brilliance.

He stood up abruptly.

"Quick! Invite all the commanders over!"

Soon, several marshals and generals, who would become legendary in later generations, gathered in this small cave dwelling.

As the middle-aged man slowly read out the contents of the telegram, the entire cave fell into a long, stunned silence.

Dozens of national-treasure-level experts and scholars had been rescued intact from Nanjing by a young man claiming to have "returned from overseas," in a manner bordering on the miraculous.

This was no longer an ordinary rescue.

This was the preservation of the most precious sparks of civilization for this disaster-stricken nation.

"This Chen Xi..." a hot-tempered general with a pipe in his mouth slammed the table hard, making the teacups jump. "He is a talent! A godsend! No matter who he is or what his background is, we must win him over!"

"Exactly!" another commander echoed excitedly. "And those experts and scholars, we must use the highest standards and the fastest speed to bring them all safely to Yanan! These people are more important than ten divisions!"

Vice Chairman Zhou did not speak.

With his hands behind his back, he paced back and forth in the cave dwelling, his eyes flickering with the profound light of wisdom.

He was thinking much further ahead than the others.

A "remarkable man" possessing such unpredictable and god-like methods.

Why did he appear at this specific point in time?

What did his choice to help us signify?

Could the power in his hands bring a brand-new variable to this arduous War of Resistance?

After a long time.

He stopped pacing, any trace of hesitation gone from his eyes, replaced only by a magnanimous spirit and resolve.

"Draft a telegram."

He said to the confidential secretary, enunciating each word.

"To be sent to the frontline River Defense unit, for the personal attention of Comrade Wang Zhenshan."

Wang Zhenshan received the reply two hours later.

When the telegraph operator, hands trembling, handed him the thin piece of telegraph paper, this man who had emerged from mountains of corpses and seas of blood felt his eyes redden for the first time.

It was a reply from Yanan.

It was a reply personally signed and issued by Vice Chairman Zhou.

He read the contents word by word, each character seemingly carrying immense weight, striking hard against his heart.

In the telegram, Vice Chairman Zhou first gave high praise to the River Defense unit's reception work.

Then, using exceptionally rare warmth and earnest wording, he expressed the organization's most sincere gratitude and highest respect to Comrade Chen Xi, the "overseas returnee with soaring righteousness."

The core of the telegram was a formal invitation.

Yanan, representing the entire Party and Army, formally invited Comrade Chen Xi and all the rescued experts and scholars to Yanan to discuss the grand plan for the War of Resistance and the future founding of the nation.

At the end of the telegram, there was a postscript from Vice Chairman Zhou.

"I look forward very much to meeting Comrade Chen Xi in person for a heart-to-heart talk. This is a blessing for the country and the nation."

Holding the telegram, Wang Zhenshan felt it was incredibly hot to the touch.

He knew what this telegram signified.

That young man named Chen Xi—his name and his deeds were now on the desks of the country's highest leadership.

He was no longer a lone wanderer.

His every move had been integrated into a grander blueprint, one capable of influencing the entire course of history.

Not daring to be negligent in the slightest, he immediately turned and went to find Chen Xi personally.

Chen Xi was at the garrison's training ground.

Leaning against a large tree, he watched the young Soldiers vigorously conducting bayonet drills in the mud.

Their weapons were poor; many of their bayonets were chipped.

Their movements weren't standardized either, filled with the simplicity of peasants.

But their eyes were strikingly bright.

That heartfelt yearning for the future and love for the land beneath their feet was something he had never seen in any old-style army.

Comrade Chen Xi!

Wang Zhenshan walked quickly up to him, his emotions a complex mix of excitement and awe.

Chen Xi turned around, somewhat puzzled.

Wang Zhenshan said nothing more, simply handing the telegram solemnly into his hands.

The reply from Yanan.

Chen Xi took the telegram.

When he saw "Handwritten by Vice Chairman Zhou" and the phrase "look forward very much to meeting Comrade Chen Xi in person," even his heart, long hardened like iron by blood and slaughter, skipped a beat at this moment.

(Holy shit...)

He cursed inwardly.

(Is this script getting a bit too out of hand?)

He had considered ten thousand possibilities, but he had never imagined he would cross paths with this great man, who only existed in history books, in such a way.

Holding that thin piece of telegraph paper, still carrying the scent of gunpowder, he suddenly felt an unprecedented, heavy weight.

It wasn't a mission.

It was the entrustment of history.

It was the future of a nation reaching out its hand to him.

He slowly raised his head, looking at Wang Zhenshan's expectant face and the young Soldiers sweating in the distance.

His gaze became incredibly profound.