Chapter 27: The Navy Grows Anxious

September 5, 1938, French Concession Pier, Jiangcheng.

After several days of turmoil, the high-ranking officials of the Third Republic had mostly calmed down. The military gradually withdrew from the concession, and the French Concession soon regained its prosperity. Under these circumstances, Wang Yue naturally began to venture out again. The French Concession police had detained a large number of Japanese nationals and seized many Japanese commercial assets, but this was still a drop in the bucket compared to the supplies the Japanese had stockpiled in Jiangcheng.

Before the war, Jiangcheng was a vital link in Japan's economic plunder. After the outbreak of war, Yangtze River shipping was severely disrupted, preventing the transport of massive quantities of goods. Japanese trading houses, both large and small, had no choice but to disguise these goods as local merchant cargo and disperse them throughout Jiangcheng, with the French Concession being the safest haven.

With such a vast amount of supplies, the police could not possibly control them all. Often, they would arrest the people but fail to locate the goods. However, where they failed, Wang Yue succeeded. Possessing the "Soul Search" skill, Wang Yue had countless ways to pinpoint the Japanese storage sites. The old factory before him was one such location, identified by probing the soul of a peripheral Japanese ronin.

"Commander, it’s all rice! Premium machine-milled rice, at least fifty thousand dan. We’ve hit the jackpot!" Mi Long trotted over, reporting with excitement.

"Are you certain there are no survivors?" Wang Yue nodded. During the Republic era, there were two common definitions for a *dan*—one being 120 jin and the other 100 jin. Actually, both were accurate; 120 jin referred to the market jin, while 100 jin referred to the standard Republic jin. With one jin being nearly 600 grams, one *dan* equaled 60 kilograms. Fifty thousand *dan* amounted to about 3,000 tons—a trifling amount for a massive grain distribution hub like Jiangcheng.

While fifty thousand *dan* sounded like a lot, at a consumption rate of 1.5 jin per soldier per day, this rice wouldn't even feed a 10,000-man force for a year. Of course, the National Revolutionary Army’s supplies were never distributed at that standard, and they certainly wouldn't feed soldiers such high-quality, machine-milled rice.

"No survivors. Just those four ronin, and four Nambu Type 14 pistols." Mi Long looked at the four decapitated bodies in the corner with lingering fear. His commander was, as always, quite fond of head-chopping. The four heads were arranged in a neat little pile, the ferocious expressions on the ronin’s faces frozen in place—a gruesome sight.

"Set the demolition charges and prepare to retreat." Wang Yue shifted his gaze to Zhou Weiguo, who was busy setting explosives in the distance. A professional is a professional; he could destroy a building completely with a minimum of explosives—even a specialized combat engineer unit couldn't do it as cleanly.

"Almost done!" Zhou Weiguo replied while dragging a spool of wire toward the exit. He felt a twinge of regret; although this rice wasn't as valuable as the previous warehouse's contents, it was still incredibly precious. In wartime, this rice could save many lives.

"You all go out and wait for me. I’ll search a bit more." Wang Yue nodded. This rice was limited enough that he could store it all in his spatial pocket. Compared to the grain, he was more concerned with the ten tons of mercury fulminate that Japanese spies had stolen from the Ordnance Bureau.

The big shots at the Ordnance Department probably still didn't realize that some of the raw materials they had shipped out of Jiangcheng had been swapped by Japanese spies. Poor Wang Yue had been secretly synthesizing lead azide since arriving in Jiangcheng, but he had only managed to produce 497 kilograms. Now, with one strike, he had secured ten tons. Although mercury fulminate primers had a shorter shelf life than lead azide, it didn't matter; under current conditions, there would likely be no ammunition left to store for over a decade.

After tucking the mountain of rice bags into his spatial pocket, he discovered a hole blocked by the bags. It must have been the power room of the factory. The steam engine that once stood there was gone, leaving behind only a pile of wooden barrels marked with the Ordnance Bureau's seal. Inside were the mercury fulminate imported from Europe at great expense—the very reason they had cut production of domestically manufactured mercury fulminate, claiming it was to "improve quality."

In reality, let alone mercury fulminate from formal factories, even that produced by small workshops could meet combat needs. Otherwise, where would the Eighth Route Army get its primers? In fact, the Eighth Route Army would rely on primitive methods to produce mercury fulminate for the next dozen years.

—

Ten minutes later, accompanied by a series of violent explosions, the old factory in the French Concession collapsed completely. Because the amount of explosives was tightly controlled, the surrounding area remained unaffected. Wang Yue and his team sped away in two Citroën sedans amidst the smoke and dust, brushing past the concession fire brigade and police as they rushed to the scene.

—

These days, explosions occurred frequently in the French Concession, sometimes by the army itself to destroy evidence. Therefore, no one thought to cordon off the streets before arriving at the scene. Of course, even if they had, it wouldn't have mattered, as they could never uncover the truth.

On the way back to the Independent Detachment office, the streets of Jiangcheng were in an uproar. The cause was that the Navy's torpedo fleet had taken the initiative, sinking the Japanese gunboat *Ataka* that morning and damaging the *Hozu*. The torpedo fleet had only lost one small torpedo boat, sunk by the gunboat *Saga*, with all officers and men aboard sacrificing their lives.

Even though the *Ataka* was only a small vessel of over 700 tons, it was a backbone of the enemy's so-called "Yangtze River Fleet." This could disrupt enemy deployments to the greatest extent and slow down their offensive—even delaying them by a single day was a massive victory.

Since the beginning of the War of Resistance, the National Army had achieved many victories, but the Navy had lacked even a glimmer of success, famously resorting to the grand gesture of sinking ships to block the river. Heaven have mercy; if they had been able to retreat those warships to Jiangcheng, the campaign wouldn't be as difficult as it was now. Never mind the Japanese planes—those few aircraft couldn't possibly maintain total surveillance.

Now, aside from the Air Force and the Army, the Navy had finally stepped up to fight for their lives. We might suffer defeats and we didn't fear losses, but what we feared was losing hope. As long as there was even a shred of hope, we would never give up.

While the citizens were whispering and discussing how the torpedo fleet had suddenly become so powerful, a "veteran player" hidden in the crowd was conducting soul searches on them, whether intentionally or not. Several Japanese intelligence agents who had escaped the mass arrests showed their true colors. But there was no rush; he could take his time with them.

Meanwhile, at the Nationalist Navy General Headquarters, the atmosphere was grim. After the navy's scale was reduced, everyone felt it didn't matter; there was less military funding, but fewer ships to maintain, so they could still eat steak and drink red wine.

But the "Torpedo-Electric" faction, which they had been trying to sabotage, had suddenly resurfaced. Not only did they buy a bunch of decrepit torpedo boats, they had actually achieved real results. This left the Ministry of the Navy, which prided itself on being the orthodoxy, unable to sit still. "We agreed to slack off together, so why are you doing this?" It was infuriating.

Commander-in-Chief Chen immediately ordered his staff to formulate a counterattack plan. But the staff told him that the existing navy ships lacked the capability to traverse the downstream minefields. While they lacked the guts to fight, the Navy was quite competent at laying mines. With plenty of time, the waters downstream of Jiangcheng had been tightly sealed, forcing the Japanese Navy to spend its time minesweeping.

Facing the staff's excuses, Commander-in-Chief Chen refused to believe a word of it. Although the channel was sealed, to facilitate the passage of "friendly" ships, the minefields were actually navigable for small vessels under 500 tons. Claiming it was impassable was just a cover for their fear of a one-way trip. But what could he do? He couldn't lead the warships into battle against the Japanese himself, could he?

"Brother Houfu, why don't we purchase some torpedo boats as well?" the Chief of Staff suggested cautiously. The Navy still had many torpedo boats on the books, all more advanced than those of the Torpedo-Electric faction. The problem was, these boats weren't in the Yangtze basin, and many were beyond their control. If they wanted to engage in torpedo warfare, they either had to buy new ones or strap torpedoes to speedboats and ram the enemy.

"We could buy them—if not from a major power, then a smaller one; if not new, then used. But how would we get them in?" The Commander-in-Chief shook his head slightly. The Navy couldn't afford warships, but they could scrape together enough for a few torpedo boats. The issue was transport. Didn't the Torpedo-Electric faction still have many ships in Hong Kong?

"I see that the light torpedo boats of the Torpedo-Electric faction are also capable. At the very least, they make the Japanese uncomfortable, don't they?" The Chief of Staff didn't think the Torpedo-Electric faction could continue to expand their success; with the speed of those steam-powered boats, achieving results against a prepared enemy was almost impossible.

"Haven't you figured out the Umbrella Corporation's transport channels yet?" Commander-in-Chief Chen was more interested in the logistics. If they were willing, he hoped to use that channel to bring in some small vessels from the southeast.

"It's impossible to trace. We can't even figure out how the supplies offset by the Ministry of War were transported out. The only thing we know for sure is that they still have quite a few of the same model of torpedo boat in their hands." The Chief of Staff smiled bitterly, shaking his head. He had asked many favors to investigate this, but to no avail.

"Shouldn't this Hans model of torpedo boat have been dismantled and destroyed before the last Great War? It truly is strange." Whenever the Commander-in-Chief thought of those old boats, he got a headache. Even the Hans Navy Department couldn't figure out how they had appeared.

"Regardless of whether they were dismantled or not, as long as they have combat power, it suffices. Ouyang Ge can organize thousands of officers and men with those eighty torpedo boats, along with an equal number of logistics personnel. In the long run, morale within the Navy will waver. There are always people who don't understand your and my painstaking efforts!" The Chief of Staff shook his head helplessly.

"A navy is built over a hundred years. Ships can be bought, but officers and men cannot. Aren't we just trying to preserve some blood for the nation? The war will eventually end, and the navy will have to be rebuilt. What will we do if there are no people? We can't let Ouyang Ge and his lot take over, can we?" The Commander-in-Chief spoke with heartfelt pain. Whether others believed him or not, he believed himself.

If Wang Yue were here, he would surely slap him. The country was falling; what was the point of saving yourselves? Were you intending to become traitors? At this stage of the nation's plight, all soldiers should be ready to die. No one was indispensable. Those eating steak and drinking red wine should be the first to go.

"Brother Houfu, in the end, we must give the rank-and-file officers some hope, right?"

"With what shall we buy them? The Field Headquarters and the Ministry of Finance will certainly not add a penny to our budget. They have completely lost faith in the Navy." The Commander-in-Chief smiled bitterly. Was it wrong to do one's best to preserve strength when one couldn't win? The plan to sink ships to block the river was approved by you all, so why go back on it now?

"The second transaction led by the Ministry of War didn't go through the Ministry of Finance or the Ordnance Department either. It's said they paid with some stockpiled supplies. Could we do the same?" The Chief of Staff left the final decision to the Commander-in-Chief.

"The goods can't be shipped out of Jiangcheng. What would the Umbrella Corporation want with so many supplies?" The Commander-in-Chief frowned. Since the war began, Jiangcheng's foreign trade had plummeted by 90 percent, and the occasional ship heading downstream was a primary target for the Japanese Navy.

"They must have already made deals with those irregular forces. The Military Statistics Bureau investigated, and several supply depots were already empty." The Chief of Staff explained with a smile.

"Contact them. We can buy as well—whether it's Navy supplies or 'those' supplies." The Commander-in-Chief pondered for a moment before making up his mind. As for "those" supplies, they were the "losses" from the Navy helping to escort cargo. After all, Japanese planes bombed the route and ships sank, so losses were inevitable. As for how much was actually lost, only the Navy knew. Furthermore, many goods arrived in Jiangcheng with no one to claim them, or the owners had died, or simply forgotten them.