Li Tianyuan’s ultimatum hung in the air: if Hu Hao’s strategic assessment was wrong, he’d be handed over to Zhang He’s vengeful custody. Hu Hao didn’t flinch. He let out a short laugh, set his rucksack down, and looked at the Commander.
“May I use the map?” Hu Hao asked.
“Go ahead,” Li Tianyuan replied, his gaze locked on the young man.
Hu Hao marched to the wall and pointed directly at the 87th Division’s sector.
“Here,” he said, tracing the lines. “You’ve deployed the 87th, but based on the fortifications you’ve ordered, there’s a five-mile-wide gap between our left and right flanks. If the Allied Forces, led by Malaguo, want a successful landing, they must break through right here.”
The Allied Forces were led by Malaguo—the most powerful nation on Planet Yuanling—alongside other superpowers like Kabuguo, Limaguo, and Leling, plus over a dozen smaller states.
“Bullshit!” Li Jingsong, the 87th Division Commander, snapped. “The Allies can’t reach that spot. It’s a cliff face. Their landing craft can’t scale it, and even if they managed a small climb, they’d be too few to threaten our line!”
“Is that so? Impossible?” Hu Hao’s expression went stone-cold as he shifted his finger slightly to a spot adjacent to the cliffs. “You think they’re coming up the cliff? Of course not. But can they come up here?”
The room went silent. Several officers began to wipe sweat from their brows as they stared at the map.
“How? How could they get up there?” Li Jingsong asked, his voice wavering. Hu Hao’s commanding presence was so intense it felt like he was the General in the room.
“Our main defensive line is 700 meters from the shore,” Hu Hao explained. “We have obstacles, yes, but we all know a determined landing will succeed. Once the Allied tanks push 200 meters inland, they can bank left, climb the slope, and get right behind us. You might have mines there, but before the landing, their naval guns will hammer that specific spot to clear the way and provide cover. Tell me—can they get up now?”
“This… I…” Li Jingsong faltered. He had reached his rank with his father’s help, but he wasn’t a total fool. He had twenty years in the service, and the logic was undeniable.
“What’s your solution?” Li Tianyuan asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Dig anti-tank trenches here—multiple lines. At the same time, extend our infantry trenches on the left flank. When the naval bombardment starts, we take cover. But the moment they launch the ground assault, the big guns will have to stop to avoid hitting their own men. That’s when our infantry needs to be there with anti-tank guns. If more than thirty tanks crest that hill, the 87th Division’s line will collapse in minutes. You know I’m right, Commander.”
Hu Hao stepped back, the point made.
“Order the Engineer Battalion! Get excavators to that coordinate and dig anti-tank trenches immediately! Move!” Li Tianyuan roared.
“Yes, sir!” A Colonel scrambled to the phone.
“Favor returned,” Hu Hao said, picking up his bag.
“Aide! Get him his new insignias and process the disciplinary form,” Li Tianyuan ordered.
“Thank you, Commander!”
The disciplinary form was crucial. If Zhang Liangqiang ever tried to sue or court-martial him later, Hu Hao could produce the document as proof that he had already been punished for the incident.
Minutes later, Hu Hao looked at his new ID. His officer’s commission was gone; he was now a Private. Five years of military academy, wasted just like that, he cursed silently.
“Wait outside,” Li Tianyuan said, his tone softening. “You’ll head back to the front with your Division Commander shortly.”
“Yes, sir. One more favor, Commander,” Hu Hao added. “You need to start building a second line of defense. This first one won’t hold.”
“You…!” Li Tianyuan stared at him, speechless.
“Hu Hao, don’t overstep,” Li Jingsong warned. “This isn’t your concern.”
“Fine. Listen or don’t. But if you don’t prep a fallback line, the High Command will have your head when the front breaks. We won’t hold it. Not with one army, not even with three.”
“Why not?” Li Tianyuan raised a hand to silence his son.
“The Allies are coming with everything they have. And us? We aren’t ready,” Hu Hao said flatly.
“What do you mean ‘not ready’?” Li Jingsong argued. “The 26th Army is tasked with the second line.”
“The 26th? The unit from Tianhe Province? Have they even moved yet?” Hu Hao frowned.
“That’s classified!”
“I didn’t see a single 26th Army truck or soldier on my way here,” Hu Hao said with a shrug. “If they were serious about a second line, they should be digging in front of Langcheng right now. I don’t know when the Allies will hit, but earlier is always better.
And Commander, a word of advice: In war, never rely on anyone else. No matter who is supposed to build the line, you have to rely on yourself and the brothers of the 27th. Other units? They won’t make it. You saw it yourself—your own Regimental commanders are breaking their own legs to avoid the fight. Do you really think the 26th Army, sitting comfortably in the interior, is eager to rush into this? Even if they’re ordered to arrive in three days, they’ll take a week.”
Li Tianyuan looked at him for a long moment. “You’re right. And the Allies will likely attack within three days. The 26th Army hasn’t even left Tianhe; they won’t be here for at least a week.”
“What? Three days?” Hu Hao focused on that one detail. “It’s starting that soon?”
“Yes. Scared?” Li Tianyuan smirked.
“I’d be a liar if I said no. But it’s not like I have a choice. None of us do. If Malaguo succeeds, it’s over for everyone,” Hu Hao replied.
“I’ll take your advice and start the second line immediately. And Hu Hao? If you survive this landing, I’ll give you your rank back myself,” Li Tianyuan said with a rare smile.
He was genuinely impressed. He had only wanted to see the man who ruined Zhang He’s grandson, but he had walked away with three pieces of invaluable strategic advice.
“Thanks, but don’t bother, Commander. My plan is to serve my five years or hit 50 merit points and then retire. I don’t care about the bars,” Hu Hao saluted.
“Ha! Retirement? Not likely in this climate. Go on, wait by the door. You’ll be leaving with your Division Commander soon.”
“Yes, sir!” Hu Hao shouldered his bag and walked out.
He found a chair near an office, sat down, and lit a cigarette. Dammit, war again, he thought, taking a long drag. Three lifetimes, and it’s always war. Can’t I just be a regular guy for once? His mind drifted back to the brothers he had lost in his previous lives.
Inside the office, Li Jingsong turned to his father. “Dad, why are you protecting this kid and risking a feud with Zhang He? Is he worth it?”
“You don’t get it,” Li Tianyuan snapped. “Who cares about Zhang He? He has no heirs now; his influence will fade. But more importantly, Hu Hao is my soldier. Only I get to punish him. If I let Zhang He walk in here and take a man from my ranks, how would I ever look my troops in the eye? Who would die for a General who sells out his subordinates?
And remember what that kid said: it’s war time. If he survives, Jingsong, you make sure you use him. He is an asset. A massive one.”
“Wait, really?” Li Jingsong was skeptical.
“He’s a rare talent, Jingsong,” Li Daowen, the Chief of Staff, added. “If he makes it through the first wave, bring him close. He could be the key to the Li family’s future.”
“Fine. If he lives, I’ll keep him close,” Li Jingsong promised.
“Dammit,” Li Tianyuan cursed. “If I wasn’t trying to save a little face for Zhang He, I’d keep him right here in the Command Center. Talent like that is hard to find.”
“Should we actually start the second line?” Li Daowen asked.
“Are you deaf? The kid laid it out perfectly. Get it done,” Li Tianyuan ordered.
About thirty minutes later, the office doors opened and the Generals filed out.
“With me,” Li Jingsong said as he approached Hu Hao.
Translator’s note:
The term “Guo” (国) means “state” or “country.” In this novel, I retain “Guo” after place names because the political structure of these entities—whether republic, kingdom, or empire—is not specified.