Republic of China: Ace Pilot

Chapter 124, Section 123: Confucius Temple and the National Government, Mr. Lin of Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum
The introduction and index of the two documents were specially made in English by officers during the Weimar Republic to facilitate Fang Wen's understanding.

Huo Duanyang could understand it.

He looked at the first document with great surprise.

"This infantry gun is really great. Our factory has been researching this kind of thing, but we haven't made any progress."

He excitedly flipped through the second document, but was somewhat disappointed.

"The Type 20 mortar developed by our factory is very similar to it, and its performance parameters are also similar."

Fang Wen asked in surprise, "Do we already have similar mortars?"

"Yes." Having spent a year at the arsenal, Huo Duanyang was very familiar with the weapons produced there.

He explained, “The information says that your mortar is a copy of the French Brandt mie 27/31 mortar, while our Type 20 mortar is a copy of the French M1927 mortar.”

"Is there any difference?" Fang Wen asked.

"Brandt mie27/31 was the first generation of French mortars, while M1927 was the second generation, with some modifications, and should be better."

Fang Wen was somewhat embarrassed. He had brought the mortar data all the way from Germany, but he hadn't expected that Nanjing would also have similar imitations.

Before World War II, France was not bad in terms of military equipment, whether it was the air force or the army. Even its mortars were copied by Germany and the Republic of China. It is estimated that there were more than just these two copycats.

But war truly relies on soldiers who are brave and skilled in using weapons, as well as strategies and tactics.

France, however, lacks all of these.

At this moment, Huo Duanyang asked, "Sir, are you going to give these weapon design data to our Jinling Arsenal?"

Fang Wen shook his head: "No. I came here to talk to you about something else. These documents are for someone who is fluent in German to translate."

Huo Duanyang became anxious.

"Sir, such a powerful weapon, why not have it manufactured at our Nanjing Arsenal to fight the Japanese?"

"How dare you speak like that, Huo Duanyang? I think you've gotten too big for your britches." Shunzi glared and scolded. He and Huo Duanyang had lived and eaten together for a while last year and had a good relationship, but he was unhappy that the other party spoke to the young master like that.

Fang Wen raised his hand to stop Shunzi, and calmly looked at the anxious Huo Duanyang.

"I'm asking you, who received all the weapons and ammunition produced by the Jinling Arsenal?"

Huo Duanyang replied without hesitation: "We are an arsenal directly under the Nationalist government, so of course we belong to the Central Army!"

"What is the Central Army doing?" Fang Wen asked coldly.

"Aren't we fighting the Japanese?" Huo Duanyang asked uncertainly.

Fang Wen's gaze made Huo Duanyang even more uncomfortable.

“I’ll assume you’ve been stuck in the arsenal, oblivious to everything else, focused solely on your bomb research. Now let me explain. Right now, the Central Army, armed with weapons manufactured in your arsenal, is gathering in the south. They claim to have deployed 40 troops for their fourth encirclement and suppression of the Red Army.”

“Aren’t the Red bandits a rebellious party? To fight external threats, we must first pacify the internal situation,” Huo Duanyang argued.

"Whether they are rebels or not, we won't argue about that here; the innocent will clear themselves. Let me ask you one more thing. Do you know how many Japanese soldiers were in Northeast China?"

"Several tens of thousands, no, more than a hundred thousand," Huo Duanyang said uncertainly.

"No, after the September 18 Incident, there were fewer than 10,000 Japanese soldiers that year. Even now, according to my intelligence channels in Shanghai, they number no more than 40,000. If the Nationalist government were willing to fight, it could drive them out of Northeast China, even at several times the cost. Instead of using hundreds of thousands of troops to annihilate our own people and allowing the Japanese army to continue to grow stronger."

Fang Wen rattled off his opinion in one breath, took a sip of wine, and declared, "If I give your weapons blueprints and data to your arsenal, they'll all be stained with the blood of our people."

These words startled the diners in the wine shop.

Huo Duanyang quickly stood up and explained, "My friend likes to talk nonsense when he drinks, please don't mind him."

After saying that, he turned around and said, "General Manager, I understand. Let's leave here and talk somewhere else."

Shunzi then paid the bill, and the three of them left the liquor store.

Continuing along Yanghu Lane, Huo Duanyang spoke up: "The general manager has made the decision regarding the weapon blueprints. As for the Red Bandits, well, whether the Red Army is good or bad, I'll look into it. Didn't you have something important to discuss with me, general manager?"

Fang Wen had calmed down. He hadn't expected to suddenly lose his temper, but he got angry as he spoke and lost control for a moment.

Now that I've calmed down, I understand that Huo Duanyang represents the perception of many intellectuals today. They believe that the Nationalist government is the legitimate government and still hold onto hope.

This sentiment is likely shared not only by Huo Duanyang, but also by a large portion of his own small group.

But as time goes by, the corruption, chaos, and even reckless actions of the Nationalist government that led to national turmoil will gradually disappoint most people and make them see the truth.

He said calmly, "I have established the Mount Tai Volunteer Army and would like to invite you to join."

"The Volunteer Army? I'm willing." Huo Duanyang agreed without hesitation. He left the small county town to fight the Japanese.

"The Taishan Volunteer Army's first action plan is to bomb the Japanese troops north of the Great Wall. I need a large number of napalm bombs," Fang Wen revealed his true purpose for seeking out Huo Duanyang. "I want you to resign from the Jinling Arsenal and organize manpower to mass-produce napalm bombs."

Upon hearing that it was about bombing the Japanese, Huo Duanyang immediately perked up.

He hadn't slept well for several days after the last bombing of the Japanese military camp in Shenyang, and it took him a long time to recover from that excitement.

Making bombs to fight the Japanese was something he really enjoyed doing.

"Leaving is no problem, I can leave anytime. General Manager, how many napalm bombs do you want to produce? I'd like to know the exact number."

"How long would it take you to make an 8000-kilogram napalm bomb?"

The requirement Fang Wen mentioned was only the full bomb load of an F.220 bomber in a single bombing run.

They subdued Huo Duanyang.

He pondered and calculated with great difficulty.

"8000 kilograms. Last time we made 300 kilograms of napalm bombs, each weighing 0.5 kilograms. It took two days to manufacture the napalm, and the filling was done by workers at the arsenal, which took most of the day. If we're going to produce 8000 kilograms, oh dear, I don't know how to do it."

Indeed, producing 8000 kilograms is completely different from producing 300 kilograms. Huo Duanyang alone was racking his brains trying to figure it out.

Fang Wen understood this; what he wanted was a bomb factory with an assembly line operation.

He patted Huo Duanyang on the shoulder.

“This is not something you can do alone. Go back and apply for resignation first, then fly to Shanghai, and we will discuss the details.”

"Okay. I estimate I can get there tomorrow. I'll go back to the factory now to process my resignation."

"Go."

Huo Duanyang turned to walk back, but then stopped: "General Manager, don't worry, I won't tell anyone about the weapon blueprints."

Fang Wen nodded and watched Huo Duanyang leave.

Shunzi, who was standing next to him, asked, "Young Master, can we go to the imperial mausoleum now?"

After Fang Wen nodded, Shunzi quickly waved, and the rickshaws parked on the side of the road immediately surrounded him.

The drivers were vying for passengers.

"Sir, where are you going?"

"Get in my car. I'm strong, I can give you both a ride."

Shunzi stated their destination: "Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum."

Immediately, the drivers fell silent and dispersed.

"What's wrong with you guys? You have work but you won't take it?" Shunzi shouted.

A driver stopped: "You might be able to pick me up but not run away. You're practically crossing half the city. You can't afford to run that far."

Shunzi, who didn't know where the Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum was, wanted to shout, but Fang Wen stopped him.

Fang Wen asked, "Then how can we get there?"

The coachman replied, "We don't leave the city. At most, we'll stop near Guanghua Gate. You'll have to figure out how to get to Zhongshan yourselves."

Fang Wen roughly knew how to get from Yanghu Lane to Guanghua Gate. From there, it was still more than halfway to Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum, and walking there wouldn't be fun.

He thought of someone else, someone he could ask for help from, someone he hadn't seen in a long time.

"Then let's go to the Confucius Temple," Fang Wen said.

Immediately, the scattered rickshaw pullers gathered around again. One person got into a rickshaw, crossed the Qinhuai River, and headed north.

The place we went to was Confucius Temple, which is the liveliest place in Nanjing.

Half an hour later, the two rickshaws stopped.

Fang Wen and Shunzi got off the bus and began to admire the scenery.

The tall archway is the most eye-catching building.

Passing through the archway, you'll reach the Confucius Temple.

Shunzi, who failed the flight apprentice exam twice, is really looking forward to this place.

"Young master, I want to go in and burn incense for the teacher, and ask him to bless me so that I can pass the next exam."

Since they were already there, they naturally followed the child's wishes. Fang Wen agreed, and the two of them followed the tourists.

Not long after walking, we saw a two-story classical wooden building behind the shady trees.

This is the Confucius Temple!
This place, once a hub of literary and artistic atmosphere in Jiangnan, was visited by many people every day.

Shunzi entered the temple with great reverence, but came out disappointed.

He said, "They don't allow incense inside. I asked how I could make a wish without incense, and they kicked me out."

Fang Wen, who was waiting outside, was speechless. Yes, this temple was not that temple. The Master did not need incense offerings.

Thinking of this, Fang Wen smiled and took Shunzi inside again. Incense was not necessary; sincerity was all that mattered.

After leaving the Confucius Temple, go up to the Academy, where ancient masters lectured and discussed philosophy.

Fang Wen didn't go to look this time. Instead, he asked a passerby for directions and headed northeast.

Passing through the examination hall and walking uphill, you will arrive at the Nanjing National Government compound at No. 1 Jinling Road.

The gate of the National Government should be modeled after the gate of an ancient imperial palace, with three archways, one main and two auxiliary, but it also features strange Greek-style columns.

The guards standing at the gate were also lax in their demeanor; some were leaning against the wall, while others were chatting idly with their legs spread apart.

There is also a stone lion on each side to ward off evil spirits.

Fang Wen led Shunzi toward the gate.

The soldier raised his hand to stop him.

"Halt! Where are you from? Looking for someone or doing something?"

"Find Yue Jinping from the Fuxing Society," Fang Wen replied.

"Go inside and register," the guard said, pointing to the guard post.

Fang Wen entered the guard post. The officer on duty looked up and repeated, "Find the book on the left for people, and the book on the right for business. Write down your name, ID, address, and what you need."

Fang Wen picked up the ink pen on the table, dipped it in ink, and wrote down what the other party had asked in the notebook on the left.

The officer glanced at him and said, "Wait outside. We'll let you know when we've notified you."

If you go out and wait for this kind of thing, it'll be troublesome; you might wait all day without getting a reply.

If you have connections or status, just reveal your identity, and the officer will greet you with a smile.

It's alright, it doesn't matter, silver dollars will do.

Fang Wen took out a silver dollar, placed it in his palm, pressed it onto the notebook, covered it, and pushed it over.

"The matter is a bit urgent, please notify us as soon as possible."

The officer opened his notebook, put away the silver dollar, and smiled. "It's urgent, so we can give advance notice."

He immediately picked up the telephone receiver and dialed a number.

"Fuxing Society. Find Yue Jinping. Tell her there's a man named Fang Wen at the main gate looking for her. He's from Shanghai, with Taishan Airlines."

After giving the notification, he smiled and said, "The person will be out in a moment."

Fang Wen nodded, and he and Shunzi walked out of the guard post and waited at the gate.

After a while, Yue Jinping, dressed in military uniform, jogged out.

Upon seeing that it really was Fang Wen, he exclaimed with delight, "You're back from Europe!"

"Yes, I came to Nanjing to see you," Fang Wen said with a smile.

"Really?" Yue Jinping said, expressing disbelief.

"I need your help with something. I'll come back tonight."

"I knew you wanted to talk to me about something. Go ahead and say it," Yue Jinping asked casually.

"Borrow a car."

"No problem. Wait for me."

Yue Jinping went back, and after a while, she drove out in a Stypton and handed the keys directly to Fang Wen.

“I borrowed it directly from the company. When they heard it was you, the team leader agreed without asking any questions.”

Fang Wen got into the car and waved goodbye to Yue Jinping, saying, "See you tonight."

After saying that, he drove away.

Shunzi, who was in the car, held back for a long time before finally speaking: "Young Master, don't worry, I will definitely not tell anyone."

Fang Wen exclaimed, "Shunzi, you've grown up."

The car drives from Jinling Road onto Zhongshan South Road, then north, turns onto Zhongshan East Road at the intersection, crosses the Ming Palace ruins, and arrives at Zhongshan.

Zhongshan is the local name; it also has another name: Zijinshan.

The car turned onto the road leading to the Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum and arrived at a magnificent stone hall.

Shunzi couldn't help but exclaim, "Young Master, this place is even better preserved than the Ming Imperial Palace."

Fang Wen thought for a moment: "It should be related to the people buried inside."

"Who buried it inside?"

"Zhu Yuanzhang, the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty, and his wife, Empress Ma."

"How big is this place?" Shunzi's curiosity was piqued. So he was on the dragon vein that the storyteller had mentioned.

"Why are you talking so much? How should I know?" Fang Wen parked the car and got out to look for someone.

As previously agreed, Mr. Lin studied the architectural style of the Ming Dynasty at the Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum.

He and Fang Wen walked inside, where there were huge stone figures and elephants on both sides of the wide stone path.

An inexplicable aura suddenly arose.

Shunzi was a little scared, but Fang Wen comforted her, "It's okay, if your dad came, he definitely wouldn't dare to come in."

Shunzi couldn't help but agree: "My dad believes in this. He says the Nationalist government is the new dynasty, and once the country is at peace, that person will become the emperor."

“Impossible,” Fang Wen retorted, but stopped in his tracks. In the distance, a stone figure was erecting scaffolding, and people were working on the scaffolding.

He asked, "Is Mr. Lin here?"

The man on the scaffold and the woman below the scaffold both turned around at the same time:
"She is."

Are you looking for me?

Fang Wen was surprised. The man in front of him was refined and elegant, while the woman was beautiful and charming.

But Mr. Lin was a woman.

(End of this chapter)