The sliding door swung open with a force that nearly knocked it off its hinges. Hu Yanzhen stood in the doorway, his figure framing the dusk light pouring in from the corridor. He looked like the embodiment of the barren land he had just left. Thinner than Lee Junshan remembered, his skin was darker and more tanned, as if the desert sun had baked all the softness out of it. His uniform was clean, but the rough stitches on his shoulders and a few small holes that had been patched told a story of battles that would never make it into the official report.
His eyes, which usually sparkled with cheerful enthusiasm and arrogance, now seemed deeper, darker. Beneath them, there was a shadow of undisguised sadness, like a deep abyss where light could hardly penetrate. But above that sadness, there was a cold, hard glint of steel. They were the eyes of a man who had seen hell and returned, bringing a piece of it with him.
His gaze locked onto Lee Junshan. For a few seconds that felt like an eternity, the silence in the room grew heavy, filled with the static of unresolved hostility. Hu Yanzhen's jaw clenched. The false telegram—the accusation of treason designed to poison their minds—may have begun to fade in the face of other evidence, but the wound was still there, itching and stinging. To Hu Yanzhen, who lived by a simple and absolute code of honor, such an accusation was the deepest stain.
Lee Junshan stared back, his face as calm as the surface of a deep lake. He showed no emotion, no apology, no defense. He simply waited, understanding that this was a storm they had to weather before they could move forward. He could see the battle raging behind Hu Yanzhen's eyes—a battle between his own ingrained suspicions and his own instincts about a comrade's character.
It was He Xiang who broke the deadlock. She rose from her chair with a graceful, serene movement. Her presence, always the balance between the two extremes of her friends, felt more important than ever.
"Yanzhen," she said, her voice soft but firm. "It's good to see you safe."
Hu Yanzhen's gaze shifted to He Xiang. The harshness in his eyes softened slightly, replaced by a genuine, if brief, flash of warmth. He and He Xiang had a different bond, one forged in the more carefree days of the academy.
"Xiang Xiang," he managed a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You look... fine." It was a simple statement, but it carried with it the relief of seeing an old friend unharmed in a world full of danger.
"I'm sorry to hear about what happened to your unit," He Xiang said, his voice full of genuine empathy.
The words were like arrows piercing Hu Yanzhen's shield. She looked away, staring at the bamboo garden outside the window. "They were good soldiers," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. "The best."
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy. Three rivers that had their source in the same spring—Eternal Flame Academy—had flowed through vastly different landscapes. One through corridors of power filled with intrigue, another through a wilderness full of deceit, and a third through a desert filled with death. Now, the three rivers met in this room, their waters muddy with mud, blood, and bitterness.
The sliding door opened again, more quietly this time. General Zhang entered, his commanding presence instantly changing the dynamics of the room. He was not alone. Behind him were two aides carrying several rolls of maps and a sealed box of documents.
"I am glad to see you all arrive safely," General Zhang said, his sharp eyes scanning the faces of the three young officers, assessing their mental state. "I know the journey has not been easy." He paused, looking directly at Hu Yanzhen. "We know about the ambush attempt at the Shaanxi station. That only reinforces the importance of this meeting."
Hu Yanzhen lifted his head, surprised. They knew. That meant General Zhang's intelligence network was far more extensive than he had thought. A little of his disbelief melted away, replaced by the understanding that he was now in the center of the real operation.
"No time for pleasantries," General Zhang continued, motioning for his aides to spread out a large map of China on the table. "Our enemies are not waiting. We need to unite what we know. Lee Junshan, you start."
Lee Junshan stepped forward. With the calmness of a lecturer, he began to present his findings. He spoke not of emotion or suspicion. He spoke of facts, figures, and patterns. Using a red pencil, he began to draw lines on a map, connecting seemingly unrelated dots.
"It all started here," he said, pointing to Nanjing. "From a high-level information leak. Intelligence reports indicate an agent codenamed 'Sakura', who is coordinating operations for Tokyo." A red line was drawn from Nanjing to Tokyo.
"Then there is Lieutenant General Oda, alias Wu Da. His track record as an instructor at the Eternal Flame gives him unprecedented access to our prospective officers. And his connections with certain officials, such as Colonel Lin Jiancheng, give him influence within the Ministry of Defense." A red circle was drawn around the Arsenal Academy and the Ministry building.
"Findings from the western border and Manchuria confirm that Oda is not just a recruiter. He is an active field operator." He took Hu Yanzhen's report on the "rewards" and connected the Great Wall Trading Company in Nanjing to Liang Zhenhai's camp in the west. "Treason celebrated with French wine sent from the capital."
His presentation was cold, analytical, and damning. He laid out the puzzle in a logical framework, laying the groundwork for the evidence to come.
"He Xiang," General Zhang said.
He Xiang stepped to the table. He opened a leather briefcase and carefully pulled out a series of black-and-white photographs. He laid them out one by one on a map, like cards in a deadly game.
"Northern Manchuria. Border with Soviet territory," he said, his voice clear and steady. The first photo showed a stack of crates. "Soviet weapons. Mosin-Nagant and DP-27. Not Japanese as we thought."
He laid out the second photo. "Caucasian guards, speaking Russian. This suggests Soviet involvement, or at least Soviet suppliers."
Then he placed the final photo in the center of the table. A close-up of Second Lieutenant Wang Deshan's smiling face. "And this is the traitor. Second Lieutenant Wang Deshan, from my garrison. He oversaw the operation. This proves that the Oda network has infiltrated the field officer level, using local corruption to facilitate their operations."
If Lee Junshan's presentation was the skeleton, then He Xiang's evidence was the flesh—visual, tangible, and irrefutable.
Finally, it was Hu Yanzhen's turn. He didn't move to the table. He stood where he was, as if to approach would make him relive the nightmare. His voice was low, quivering with suppressed emotion as he spoke.
"Death Valley," he began, and the name itself seemed to suck the warmth out of the room. "It was a perfect trap. Designed by someone who understood our strengths and weaknesses down to the smallest detail. Someone like Oda."
He recounted the ambush, not in tactical detail, but in painfully human detail. The sound of explosions, the confusion, the screams of his men. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket—Lieutenant Zhou's coded notes—and laid it on the table. A brownish bloodstain at the corner bore silent witness.
"Lieutenant Zhou found something before he died," he said. "He left this for me. 'Insider N… Oda… Danger…' He tried to warn me."
He paused, taking a deep breath. "And the warning came too late because we were sent there by official orders, passed through channels from Nanjing." His eyes met Lee Junshan's, and this time, there was no more suspicion. Only a shared, bitter understanding. "The fake telegram accusing you, Junshan… I understand now. It was part of their trap. To make sure that if I survived, I would go after you, not them. To divide us."
It was an admission. An unspoken apology. Lee Junshan nodded slightly, accepting the confession without words.
For the first time, the three pieces of the puzzle—the analysis from Nanjing, the visual evidence from Manchuria, and the bloody testimony from the desert—were spread out together on the table. They were no longer separate. They formed a single, terrifying picture: a vast conspiracy of treason, masterminded by the Japanese, facilitated by traitors at the highest levels, and carried out by pawns throughout the country.
General Zhang stared at the map, his face as hard as granite. "So that's the big picture," he said slowly. "Oda is the snake in the field. Sakura is the ghost in the palace. And men like Lin Jiancheng and Wang Deshan are the fangs. They poison us from the borders to the heart of the capital."
A deep silence fell over the room as the three officers grasped the full extent of what they were facing. This was no longer about avenging a single unit or stopping a single smuggling operation. This was a war for the soul of the Republic.
Hu Yanzhen, who had been driven by personal rage, now saw that his tragedy was only one part of a national tragedy. He Xiang, who had been focused on local betrayal, now saw that his garrison was only one node in a larger web. And Lee Junshan, who had seen the big picture from afar, now had tangible evidence of the horrors he had wrought on the ground.
The three rivers had finally met, their waters merging into one powerful, purposeful current.
"This is bigger than any of us," General Zhang said, his voice firm, breaking through their reverie. "This information… this evidence… it cannot stop here."
He stared at the three of them, his gaze sharp and meaningful. "I will take this to the highest levels. The Minister of Defense must know. He must see what you have discovered."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Get ready. Get some rest tonight if you can. Because tomorrow, you will meet him. And your real war will begin."
___
💥 Every Power Stone from you is a bullet for the struggle of He Xiang and his comrades.
Let's help them keep moving forward!
Vote for Power Stone & comment now! 🇮🇩
Leave a comment if you are curious about He Xiang's sister…🤭🙏🇮🇩
*****to be continued chapter 9