"Besides, Brother Shaowen, shouldn't we pull back and consolidate our forces on the outer perimeter? If fighting breaks out suddenly, we'll at least be prepared to respond."
Tong Linge spoke after taking a quiet mental tally of what they had on hand.
Formidable though the Northwest Army appeared with its one hundred thousand troops, when spread thin across Chahar, Beiping, Tianjin, and Baoding, their numbers were stretched to the limit. As things stood, each strategic point could only be allocated an average of two battalions.
Down in southern Hebei, two independent Northwest Army brigades were still resting and refitting north of Kaifeng, unable to rush up in time if fighting erupted on the front line. To make matters worse, over the past four or five years, Song Zheyuan had diverted the funds Nanjing had earmarked for constructing national defense fortifications to other uses.
Song had flatly refused to adopt any of the fortification blueprints designed and studied by the General Staff in Nanjing. While this had sparked considerable resentment within Nanjing at the time, the blazing intensity of the Great Wall War of Resistance had forced them to drop the matter.
"Commander Song is still traveling by train tonight," Qin Dechun answered. "As for shifting troops, we'll wait until I report to him tomorrow before making a move."
Tong Linge's brow furrowed with concern. "At such a critical juncture, how could Commander Song leave Beiping and Tianjin without authorization? If troop movements fall behind and Beiping and Tianjin are lost, how will he live with himself?"
"Jiesan, Commander Song has his own difficulties." Qin Dechun felt precisely the same way in his heart, yet he had no choice but to smooth things over for Song Zheyuan. "Let us attend to our own duties and see how tomorrow's banquet with the Japanese plays out."
"Shaowen, there is something I don't know if I should say."
"Speak."
"If war is truly imminent, could we telegraph Nanjing and request that the Central Army advance into North China as reinforcements?" Tong Linge lowered his voice by half, his tone softening.
Qin Dechun froze for a long moment, the muscles of his face tightening. After a lengthy silence, he finally replied, "That touches on Commander Song's most sensitive nerve. If Nanjing intervenes, Beiping and Tianjin will likely change hands."
"Is handing Beiping and Tianjin over to the Japanese a better plan?"
Qin Dechun fell silent.
Looking at it rationally, every military and civil official in the Beiping-Tianjin region understood full well that the Northwest Army alone lacked the strength to halt the southward march of the Japanese main force. Once war broke out, without reinforcements from the Central Army, defeat would merely be a matter of time.
"Let's put that on hold for now," Qin Dechun said, suppressing Tong Linge's plea to seek aid from Nanjing. "Beiping and Tianjin are the bedrock of the Northwest Army, built on Commander Song's blood and sweat."
That night, many found it impossible to sleep.
Yet early the following morning, Tong Linge dressed in full uniform and personally went to the Japanese garrison east of Beiping to invite all Japanese officers of company grade and above to a banquet at Huairentang in Zhongnanhai. Tong did not see Brigade Commander Kawabe Masakazu; instead, he was received by Hashimoto Gun, the Japanese chief of staff.
After storming back the previous day, Oda Toshito had naturally vented his bitter grievances to Kawabe over the Chinese side's insults. Even so, Kawabe's guiding strategy remained to master movement through stillness. The main reason was that the primary Japanese forces were not yet in position across the Beiping-Tianjin area, making it difficult to guarantee a swift crushing defeat of the 29th Army.
Consequently, Kawabe had already telegraphed Imperial General Headquarters, requesting that several elite Kwantung Army divisions be deployed south to reinforce Beiping and Tianjin, assisting the China Garrison Army in blasting open a breach in North China by force.
Oda Toshito had no choice but to swallow his anger for the time being. Tong Linge's unexpected visit offered both sides a graceful way out, and Hashimoto Gun readily accepted the invitation.
On the Chinese side, officers of regimental rank and above stationed near Beiping would attend as hosts, turning the gathering into a meeting of the top Chinese and Japanese figures in North China.
To ensure numerical superiority in the room, even a regimental staff officer like Zhu Shiqing was swept into the hosting delegation, brought along into that extraordinary place—Zhongnanhai.
***
"I'm not going! Not a chance! Damn it, looking at those devils makes me sick to my stomach—I wouldn't be able to swallow a single bite!"
Sun Yi lay sprawled stubbornly across a bench in the 219th Regiment headquarters at Zhaojiazhuang. No matter how many calls came from division headquarters, he refused to attend the banquet for even a single second. Even when the chief of staff exhausted every persuasive word, Sun remained utterly unyielding.
"Send Zhu Shiqing in my place."
In the end, that was Sun Yi's only reply. "A regimental staff officer representing our 219th Regiment won't cause me to lose face. He can go, but I'm damn well not going."
Unable to bend his iron will, division headquarters had to agree: if Zhu Shiqing was going, then Zhu Shiqing it was. Feng Zhian also feared that Sun Yi's fiery temper might actually spark an incident.
Zhu Shiqing did not share Sun Yi's explosive temperament. On the contrary, he was quite eager to witness the spectacle for himself and broaden his horizons. In the turbulent, gathering storm over North China, what kind of sparks would fly when these costumed military and political heavyweights gathered under one roof?
By protocol, Zhu Shiqing had to first proceed to division headquarters in Wanping City to rendezvous with Feng Zhian and the others before traveling together to Beiping. Sun Yi dispatched Fang Wenjian and Xiang Chengyu to accompany Zhu, though they were not going for the banquet.
They were going to collect the weapons and ammunition Feng Zhian had promised.
Upon arriving in Wanping, Zhu Shiqing parted ways with the two men and boarded a staff car from division headquarters bound for Beiping.
Huairentang was already awash in clamor. Zhongnanhai was brightly lit against the night, glowing in a dizzying wash of colors. As the Japanese officers arrived, not one failed to praise Beiping as a magnificent place—a true earthly paradise.
Officers from both armies sat intermingled across ten large round tables. Because Chinese and Japanese were seated together, any pretense of banquet etiquette was swiftly discarded. Each spoke their own tongue, talking over one another until the din threatened to lift the very eaves off Zhongnanhai.
Zhu Shiqing was placed at a table with Brigade Commander He Jifeng of the 37th Division, several other staff officers, and four Japanese officers from the 3rd Regiment. Feng Zhian and Tong Linge had gone to dine at the table with Kawabe Masakazu.
As food and liquor were served amid the swelling uproar, the clatter of porcelain dishes chimed everywhere. Glancing sideways, Zhu Shiqing noticed that Tong Linge's table had barely touched their food, locked in continuous conversation. At the other tables, however, the Chinese and Japanese officers were carrying on quite differently...
They were either locking hostile glares, racing to see who could devour more food, or already locking arms in drunken arm-wrestling contests.
Matters at his own table were hardly peaceful either. The Japanese officer directly opposite him, built like a sumotori with thick shoulders and a barrel chest, hoisted a wine jug and downed it in a single draught. After he drained it, several devils beside him shouted praise in their jabbering tongue.
The alcohol must have hit him hard; half his face flushed crimson almost immediately. Shoving his chair back, he leapt straight onto the seat and began bellowing a Japanese song at the top of his lungs.
The Chinese officers at the table exchanged glances, while the Japanese at the other tables clapped and cheered, joining in the ruckus. Emboldened, the portly Japanese officer postured and struck provocative poses on his chair, launching into a wild, chest-thumping, foot-stamping dance.
He Jifeng slammed his chopsticks onto the table, jumped straight onto the tabletop, and belted out the 29th Army's anthem, "Man Jiang Hong."
"Starting anew, we shall reclaim our lost rivers and mountains, and face the heavenly palace!"
The lyrics instantly drew a thunderous, surging chorus from the Chinese officers throughout the hall.
Not to be outdone, several Japanese broke away from their tables to stage a collective Yamato dance in retaliation. Their movements were utterly brazen and dripping with provocation—leaping and dancing while swinging their fists right toward the heads of the Chinese!
Chapter 42