Rebirth and Years of Conquest

The heavy snow that had fallen for three days and three nights finally stopped. The heavens had stopped their madness. This year's snow was heavier than ever before, covering the ancient land of Northeast China with a thick blanket of white. The snow on the plains reached knee-deep, and in the sheltered gullies, it was deep enough to subdue a person. The sky cleared, and the rising sun leaped over the horizon, illuminating the dazzling white snow. The frozen Songhua River remained as silent as ever, exuding an ancient vastness, like a weathered old man remembering the pain and joy of this land. The windless weather was a rare treat. Heading east along the riverbank, one sees a continuous range of mountains, with dense, verdant pine forests stretching as far as the eye can see. Occasionally, a few graceful white birches stand tall, seemingly lost in thought. If the pines are majestic youths, then the birches are graceful maidens, quietly nestled beside them. The contrast of white snow and green pines, against the clear, icy blue sky, resembles a traditional Chinese ink painting, spread across the land of Northeast China, exuding a primitive and rustic beauty. The mountain road was winding, and after walking more than ten miles through knee-deep snow, a village came into view. The roofs of every house were covered in white snow, and wisps of morning smoke rose up like clouds and mist, enveloping the village in tranquility and peace. This is the Tang Settlement, a village of over a hundred households, considered quite large for miles around. In Northeast China, most villages are named after surnames. Years ago, two brothers surnamed Tang came here from Shandong, venturing into the Northeast. They cleared land, farmed, fished, explored the mountains, gathered herbs, and chopped firewood. The vast land of Northeast China was sparsely populated, the soil incredibly fertile, the mountains teeming with wild animals, the forests overflowing with produce, and the rivers teeming with plump, fresh fish. As long as one was willing to work hard, no one would go hungry. The brothers built a hut and settled down here, hence the name Tang Settlement (The Tang Family's Camp). Later, fellow villagers, relatives, and friends came to stay, and the population grew. They felled trees, built houses, married, and had children. After more than a hundred years of growth and development, it became the large village it is today. Of course, not everyone living in the village is surnamed Tang anymore, but they still make up the majority. It was the winter of 1932, more than a year after the September 18 Incident. The thunderous cannon fire in Fengtian (Shenyang) had long since faded. The former Marshal's Mansion, now adorned with the Rising Sun Flag, looked like a grotesque plaster stuck to white paper. The Jiangqiao Resistance was fierce. The valiant Heilongjiang defenders, led by General Ma Zhanshan, fought back against an enemy several times their size, killing and wounding over 6,000 Japanese and puppet troops. This was the first major setback suffered by the Japanese army since the September 18 Incident, greatly dampening the arrogance of the Japanese invaders and slowing their advance. However, the Nationalist government stood idly by, refusing to send reinforcements. Ma Zhanshan fought alone, his forces unable to hold out. The blood of his brave soldiers stained the vast white snow and sprinkled the black earth. The Japanese, however, continued to send reinforcements, committing their main divisions to the battle. After many days of resistance, they were ultimately defeated due to being outnumbered. The heroic souls of the martyrs have turned into wisps of smoke, merging into the blue sky, guarding this black soil. The heroes are gone, but how many people will remember their figures and their tragic stories? Zhang Xueliang's hundreds of thousands of Northeast Army soldiers, armed with guns that were like sticks, were chased by more than 20,000 Japanese soldiers like rabbits, without uttering a sound. They fled into the Central Plains. The beautiful and fertile land of Northeast China, with its white mountains and black waters and fertile fields, and millions of people, along with their ancestral property, were lost just like that. The iron hooves of the Japanese invaders occupied this land, taking control of the three northeastern provinces. Though the nation was broken, the mountains and rivers remained. Since ancient times, those who ventured into Northeast China have possessed an inherent spirit of defiance, unwilling to be controlled by fate. The people living on the black soil of Northeast China were not lacking in fierceness and courage. With the loss of their homeland and the invasion of foreign powers, in those years of profound suffering for the Chinese nation, heroes were destined to emerge, leading their spirited sons and daughters, unwilling to be oppressed and enslaved by foreign powers, to write a chapter in history of resistance. This was an era that produced heroes! Alexander Thorne, or Alex, has been reborn into this world for over a year. He hasn't forgotten a single memory from his past life; every detail is vivid in his mind. In his previous life, Alex Thorne was a commander in the People's Liberation Army's "Wolf Fang" special forces, holding the rank of colonel. Before the age of thirty, he was already a regimental commander, a rare achievement in the military. He had led his team in numerous special operations missions, possessing extensive combat experience and a reputation for being a battle-hardened, iron-willed soldier. I am an only child. My father, a general, was strict and stern, yet he raised me with a unique kind of love. From as far back as I can remember, he demanded of me the standards of a soldier: walk with my chest out, head held high, eyes forward, and speak concisely and clearly. It seems he treated me like one of his soldiers. He never let me ride in his car, and from the age of ten, I never missed a five-kilometer cross-country run every morning. My mother is a university professor, and I inherited all her virtues: kindness, tolerance, understanding, and erudition. The year I graduated from university, filled with a deep longing for a military career, I joined the army. Perhaps it was my father's words that deeply influenced me: "A man without military experience will lack the necessary calcium in his bones," which made me obsessed with the army and soldiers. I am proficient in Chinese martial arts. In my childhood, I studied under a Master's of the Natural School, practicing its techniques and developing profound internal strength. After several years in the army, I was admitted to the National Defense University as a master's student, majoring in operational command and special operation's theory. I have a good aptitude for languages and am fluent in Japanese and English. To be honest, I learned Japanese to understand the madmen on that island nation, and what lies deep in their hearts besides AV, actresses, and seppuku. In my spare time, I enjoy studying war history, especially the history of the War of Resistance Against Japan. I often fantasize about what I would be like if I were born in that era. A good education, coupled with the influence of my family environment, combined with my refined scholarly air and tough, soldierly temperament, has created a unique charm in me. It's impossible not to attract attention; walking down the street, I always draw a lot of stares, which makes me feel very proud. Once, a company asked me to endorse a men's health product with a very tempting offer, but of course I refused. It was out of fear of my father; if I accepted and he found out, I'd be in big trouble. Besides, it wouldn't suit my military identity. I'm a very disciplined person, but I still felt a little regretful—that was a lot of money! Life is wonderful, the future is limitless, my vibrant youth—I cheer!