Republic of China: German-equipped divisions massacred as warlords guarded the nation's borders

French Concession, Sassoon's private residence on Xiafei Road.

Victor Sassoon's hands were trembling.

On the mahogany desk in front of him was a gift box wrapped in dark red satin.

The gift box has been opened.

There are twenty photos inside.

Every photograph shows a corpse.

Some had their heads smashed open, some had their chests riddled with bullet holes, and some lay sprawled in the reeds, their postures contorted like crushed insects.

There was a handwritten confession under the photo.

Dai Zhijian's own handwriting.

The confession details how Sassoon paid one million pounds to hire someone to assassinate Chen Zijun, how the money was transferred through a Swiss bank, and how he provided intelligence and a safe house.

Each one is supported by a remittance slip.

Ironclad evidence.

At the very bottom of the gift box, there was also a business card.

Only one name was printed on it.

Chen Zijun.

Sassoon crumpled the business card into a deformed shape.

His butler, Felix, stood at the door, his face ashen.

"Sir... Dai Zhijian's men were all wiped out. Twenty-two of them, not one left. Dai Zhijian himself was captured alive."

Sassoon suddenly stood up and swept the gift box to the ground.

"You bastard!"

His eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets.

"One million pounds! I paid a top assassin a million pounds to hire, and he hasn't even caught a glimpse of his target?!"

Felix lowered his head and dared not speak.

Sassoon paced back and forth in his study, his steps quickening.

He knew he was finished.

The capture of Dai Zhijian means that the entire chain of evidence is now complete.

The assassination attempt failed.

Funding terrorist activities.

Colluding with foreign spies.

Any one of these reasons would be enough for Chen Zijun to tear him to pieces.

"Get the car ready." Sassoon suddenly stopped.

"gentlemen?"

"Pack all the gold bars and land deeds in the safe. Take my passport and the pass issued by the British consulate."

Sassoon's voice was hoarse and hurried.

"Go to the dock. The Duke of York is still anchored on the Huangpu River. Once I'm on that warship, even if Chen Zijun has a hundred cannons, he can't do anything to me."

Twenty minutes later.

Three black Rolls-Royces filed out of the iron gates of Sassoon’s private residence.

They were escorted by a Ford truck filled with foreign bodyguards in front and behind.

The convoy sped eastward along Avenue Joffre towards the Huangpu River wharf.

Sassoon sat in the back seat of the middle car, holding a suitcase in his arms.

The suitcase contained sixty standard gold bars, each weighing one kilogram, and thirty-seven property deeds in the Far East.

This represents the culmination of the Sassoon family's nearly century-long business in the Far East.

His eyes were fixed on the road ahead.

Once we arrive at the dock...

Once you board the warship.

Everything will be safe then.

The convoy drove out of the French Concession's border.

The Huangpu River wharf is just 500 meters ahead.

Sassoon's heart was pounding.

Then he saw it.

Three gray-green armored vehicles were blocking the road in the middle of the highway.

The MG34 machine gun on the roof was pointed in their direction.

Next to the armored vehicle stood a row of soldiers in black uniforms.

Each person was holding an MP18 submachine gun.

Sassoon's convoy came to a sudden stop.

The tire left a long black mark on the asphalt road.

The door of the lead armored vehicle opened.

Ye Yingxue came down.

She had just returned from Wusongkou, and her military boots were still covered in mud.

"Mr. Sassoon."

Her voice was as calm as if she were ordering a cup of coffee.

"Please get off the bus."

The foreign bodyguard in the Sassoon's car tried to draw his gun.

Click.

The MG34 on the armored vehicle simultaneously pulled its bolt.

The sound was exceptionally clear on the empty highway.

The bodyguards' hands froze in mid-air.

No one dared to move.

Everyone knows that the MG34 can fire twenty bullets per second. Once a magazine is empty, these Rolls-Royces will be reduced to tin cans.

Sassoon was dragged out of the car.

He clung to the suitcase, refusing to let go, and shouted loudly in English.

"You can't treat me like this! I'm a citizen of the British Empire! I have diplomatic immunity! This is a violation of international law!"

Ye Yingxue glanced at him but ignored him.

She simply pressed a button on the walkie-talkie.

"Reporting to the commander. The target has been intercepted."

……

Fifteen minutes later.

Chen Zijun's convoy has arrived.

Accompanying him was the British Consul General in Shanghai, Barton.

Baldun came of his own volition.

He received an urgent call from Sassoon's butler at the consulate, informing him that Sassoon had been intercepted, and immediately took a car to come over.

Baldon was in his forties and had a neatly trimmed beard.

He had spent over a decade navigating the complexities of the foreign concessions and had witnessed many significant events.

But today, when he saw the three armored vehicles and dozens of Chen family army soldiers armed with live ammunition on the road, he paused slightly.

"General Chen."

Barton strives to maintain the decorum expected of a diplomat.

"I must lodge a strong protest. Mr. Sassoon is a lawful citizen of the British Empire and enjoys extraterritorial rights. You have no right to detain him."

Chen Zijun leaned against the armored vehicle, his arms crossed.

He didn't even glance at Baldon.

"Molanzhi".

"exist."

"Show the item to Consul Baldon."

Moranzi stepped forward and handed a brown paper envelope to Baldon.

Baldon hesitated for a moment, then took it and opened it.

Inside was a stack of photocopies of bank remittance slips.

Remitter: Victor Sassoon.

Payee: Special Account of the Nanjing Nationalist Government Special Service Department.

Purpose: Information consulting fee.

Amount: One million pounds.

The timing perfectly coincided with the time when Dai Zhijian arrived in Shanghai.

Baldon's expression changed little by little.

"this……"

"This is evidence that your 'legitimate citizen' spent one million pounds to hire a hitman to assassinate a Chinese general."

Chen Zijun finally looked at Baldun.

His eyes were calm, but Baldon sensed an oppressive feeling within them.

"Consul Bardon, I'm giving you two choices."

"First, you can turn around and leave now, as if you saw nothing today. I won't touch your consulate or your business in Shanghai."

"Secondly, you continue to speak for Sassoon. Then these remittance slips will appear on the front page of the *Shen Bao*, *Ta Kung Pao*, and Reuters tomorrow. There will be a note on them: Mr. Barton, the British Consul in Shanghai, was aware of this and protected it."

Baldon's face flushed red.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something.

But in the end, he didn't say anything.

He shoved the envelope back into Moran's hand, turned around, and walked back to his car step by step.

The car door closed.

The Rolls-Royce turned around and drove away towards the concession area.

Sassoon's face turned completely pale.

His last protector tucked his tail between his legs and ran away.

"No! Baldun! You can't leave! You can't abandon me!"

Sassoon shouted hoarsely at the departing car.

No one responded to him.

Chen Zijun walked up to Sassoon.

Sassoon instinctively took a step back, but was blocked by the soldiers behind him.

Sassoon.

Chen Zijun's voice wasn't loud, but every word hit Sassoon's ears like a nail.

"Since my father's generation, your Sassoon family has been sucking the blood of the Chinese. Opium, smuggling, usury, you've made all sorts of dirty money."

"You still dare to pay money to save my life?"

He raised his foot and kicked Sassoon in the back of the knee.

Sassoon screamed and fell to his knees.

The suitcase in his arms fell open, and gold bars rolled all over the ground with a clatter.

Chen Zijun looked down at the gold bars scattered on the ground, then at Sassoon kneeling on the ground, trembling.

"Huixin" (慧心).

Mo Huixin got out of the car behind.

She was wearing a plain-colored cheongsam and holding a thick account book in her hand.

"Young Master."

"How much are these gold bars, plus the land deed in his car, in total?"

Mo Huixin flipped through the account books.

"Sixty gold bars, equivalent to approximately £24,000 at the international gold price. Thirty-seven land deeds, covering all of Sassoon & Co.'s real estate in Shanghai, Nanjing, and Suzhou, conservatively valued at £1.2 million."

"All items have been seized and stored in the warehouse."

"Yes."

Mo Huixin waved.

The quartermaster led four soldiers forward and picked up the gold bars one by one, putting them into military iron boxes.

The land deed was carefully put into Mo Huixin's briefcase.

Sassoon knelt on the ground, watching as his family's wealth, accumulated over nearly a century, was carried away box by box.

His lips were trembling, and his eyes were bloodshot, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Chen Zijun turned and walked toward the armored vehicle.

"Lock him up in the North Gate Detention Center. Put him with Dai Zhijian. Let the two of them catch up."

"yes!"

The soldiers lifted the Sassoon and towed it toward the military truck.

……

The convoy restarted.

Chen Zijun sat inside the armored vehicle with his eyes closed.

Mo Huixin sat opposite him, quietly arranging the stack of land deeds.

"Young Master. Sassoon & Co.'s core assets in the Far East, along with those confiscated during the previous anti-smoking campaign, are worth approximately £2.8 million. In addition, the £1 million bounty on Dai Zhijian is frozen in HSBC, bringing our total revenue this time to close to £3.8 million."

"Um."

Chen Zijun did not open his eyes.

Mo Huixin hesitated for a moment.

"However... young master, we have received the money. But there is one thing I must mention."

"explain."

"With the Sassoon Wharf, the major opium dens, underground casinos and the warehouses of those trading companies all being shut down, the coolies and low-level laborers who relied on these places for their livelihood suddenly lost their jobs."

Mo Huixin's voice became somewhat heavy.

"According to preliminary statistics from Feng Yong's Bureau of Labor Movement, in Shanghai alone, more than 100,000 people have lost their livelihoods. If Nanjing, Suzhou, and Hangzhou are included, this number would double."

"If these people aren't resettled, they'll become vagrants in less than half a month. Then they'll start stealing and looting, and Shanghai will be in complete chaos."

Chen Zijun opened his eyes.

He looked at Mo Huixin.

"One hundred thousand people?"

"At least."

Chen Zijun remained silent for three seconds.

Then he laughed.

"Huixin, do you think 100,000 strong laborers are a burden?"

Mo Huixin was taken aback.

"It might be in someone else's hands."

Chen Zijun patted the steel plate of the armored vehicle.

"But in my hands, that's called the infrastructure army."

"The steel plant in Ma'anshan needs to expand, the Jiangnan Shipyard needs to dig a 10,000-ton dry dock, and the new arsenal is short 8,000 workstations. There aren't enough workers for even one of these 100,000!"

"Have Feng Yong come to see me first thing tomorrow morning."