Chapter 30: You Donate a Dime, He Donates a Dime, Help Us Become Billionaires

Late December 1935.

After thorough deliberation by the higher echelons of the Party organization, the senior leadership decided to deploy the First Column—comprising the Hong 18th Regiment, the Hong 24th Regiment, the Hong 26th Regiment, and the Cavalry Regiment—to the Jin-Cha-Ji region to establish a new base area.

This new base would center around Mount Wutai, expanding in all directions to secure greater room for survival.

Naturally, as the First Column advanced into the Jin-Cha-Ji area, it would come into direct contact with the Japanese invaders. This aligned with the Party’s call to "end the civil war and unite against the common enemy."

"Changqing!"
"Safe travels!"
"With your capabilities, you’re bound to make a name for yourself."
"When you strike it rich, don't forget your old classmates," an upper-classman said, patting Su Changqing on the shoulder.

"Old classmate, I haven't even left yet, and you're already eyeing me?" Seeing the anticipation on his senior's face, Su Changqing felt a chill run down his spine.

"Changqing, don't listen to his nonsense."
"The Party organization has placed great trust in you this time."
"This is our first attempt of its kind; in the words of our commanders, this is the first step of a new Long March."
"I believe in you!"
"The First Column will certainly fulfill the expectations of the Party organization." Another one of Su Changqing’s classmates said with a smile.

"Thank you!"
"Thank you!"

"Changqing, the Chief of Staff is quite busy today and couldn't come to see you off."
"Forge a reputation for the First Column in Jin-Cha-Ji! Forge a reputation for Whampoa!"
"Forge a reputation for our Hong Army!"

"That goes without saying!" Su Changqing gripped the reins and vaulted into the saddle. He offered a military salute to everyone present.

"I’m off!"

With a wave of his hand, the First Column marched toward Mount Wutai in the Jin-Cha-Ji region under Su Changqing’s command.

...

Near Mount Wutai.

"Sir, please, sir! The harvest was poor this year. This is our last bit of grain. Without it, my whole family—the old and the young—will starve to death!"
"Sir, I beg you, I beg you!"

An elderly grandmother, well over sixty, knelt on the ground, kowtowing desperately.

"To hell with you, you old hag!"
"So what if I take a little of your grain? Without us, do you think you’d be living in peace?"

A rowdy soldier opened the cloth bag, peered at the pathetic amount of grain inside, and pulled a face of utter disgust.

"Damn it! This isn't even enough to get stuck between my teeth. And you’re here acting all pitiful? Damn you!" In a fit of rage, the soldier kicked the grandmother.

"Grandma! Grandma!" Seeing her fall, her thirteen or fourteen-year-old grandson immediately rushed to her side. His hands were clenched into tight fists, and an irrepressible fury burned in his eyes, as if he were ready to explode at any moment.

The grandmother, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, shook her head at her stubborn grandson. A boy of thirteen or fourteen stood no chance against a group of armed, brutal soldiers.

"You old wretch!"
"Consider this just the interest. I’ll be back in a few days."
"If you can't come up with enough grain to satisfy my brothers, I’ll burn your doghouse to the ground!"

With that, the soldier waved his hand. "Let's go!"

A large-scale drought had struck the Mount Wutai area. For the common people who relied on the land to survive, this was a devastating blow. After all, how could they survive without food?

News of the drought reached the Jin-Cha-Ji region and drew some attention. To help the people of Mount Wutai overcome their hardships, the Qing-Tian Party, in league with local warlords, launched a society-wide "drought relief" campaign and raised a significant amount of money.

In theory, if these funds were converted into grain, it would have been enough to carry the people of Mount Wutai through the disaster.

However! Natural disasters were secondary; man-made disasters were the root cause. Due to the lack of transparency in how the relief funds were used, the substantial sum raised didn't buy a single grain of rice.

The common people? What common people? How could the money ever reach their hands? Situations like the grandmother's were happening in every corner of Mount Wutai.

Yumu County.

"Well, well, Young Master Dong, where have you been making your fortune? You’ve even got a car now? Not bad!"

A prominent figure in Yumu County looked at the son of one of the officials in charge of disaster relief. Seeing him driving a brand-new sedan, he couldn't help but feel envious.

Hearing the praise, the young dandy’s face glowed with unconcealed pride.

"A Studebaker Commander; there aren't many of these around. I spent a fortune and pulled strings to get it brought over from Jinling. This thing is precious! All the big shots in Jinling and Shanghai love riding in these."
"My father gave it to me. He told me if there was anything else I wanted, I just had to ask." The wealthy young man boasted.

"It seems your father has made a fortune this time! If you’ve struck it rich, Young Master Dong, you’ve got to look out for your friends!"
"Don't worry, don't worry!"
"We’re close, aren't we? Tomorrow, I’ll have my father arrange a position for you."

As Young Master Dong spoke, he draped his right arm over the man's shoulder and whispered something into his ear. The man’s face broke into a wide, delighted grin. So that was it!

"How about that? I’m a good friend, aren't I? This is a lucrative position. I wouldn't arrange it for just anyone—only for you!"
"With the right moves, money comes as easily as picking it up off the ground. Forget a Studebaker; I could even get you the presidential car from the Lighthouse Empire if you had enough money!" Young Master Dong bragged.

"In this society, money makes the devil turn the millstone. How about it? Want to go for a ride?"
"Then this little brother thanks you, Young Master Dong." The sycophant chuckled and climbed into the sedan.

"Young Master Dong! Since you’re helping me get rich, let me treat you to a meal!"
"No need, no need. Why should you pay? It’s not like I’m broke!"
"Let’s go to the most expensive brothel, order the finest wine and food, and call for the most beautiful women! My treat!" The young man curled his lip.

"How could I let you pay, Young Master Dong?"
"What does it matter?"
"In this world, mindless peasants rush to hand us their money to spend—it would be a waste not to. If we didn't squander this money, we’d be doing those idiots a disservice."
"Hahaha! A penny from you, a penny from me, that’s how we get filthy rich! Without those idiots, how could we get rich? We mustn't let their 'good intentions' go to waste!"
"Let’s go, let’s go! Stop dawdling!"

With that, the young master surnamed Dong stepped on the gas. The sedan roared with power as it sped toward the most famous brothel in town.

"Pah!"

In a small shop, a burly man, having just finished his noodles, spat toward the direction where the sedan had vanished and cursed loudly.

"I fought for my life against the Japanese devils at Xifengkou to defend this country. Is this what I was protecting? These animals?"
"They’re even stealing the disaster relief money—these beasts!"

After paying his bill, the burly man sighed. "Damn it, the Qing-Tian Party is rotten to the core. It’s beyond saving."

Checking that no one was watching, he felt for the pistol in his pack. His mind seemed made up.

"Damn it, I have to rid the people of these pests. Otherwise, I’d be dishonoring this uniform."
"Damn you all. I’ll make sure you animals have the life to take this money, but not the life to spend it!"

With that, the man set off in the direction the sedan had headed.