coobybook Chapter 1152 Japan Conducts Another Military Exercise
Chapter 1152 Japan Conducts Another Military Exercise
Wu Mingqiang turned around, his gaze falling on Gui'er, with a hint of reassurance: "Don't worry, I will find out Zhou Hong's background as soon as possible. If she really has sided with the Liu family or is colluding with the Japanese, I have my own ways of dealing with it. The most important thing right now is to keep things stable. After we send Zhu Zhiming's family to Macau, we also have to prepare for the worst."
Gui'er gazed at his sculpted profile, her heart filled with mixed emotions. She had once thought the Xingmin Daily was a bastion of progress, and the Hong Kong British government a temporary refuge, but in the end, the former harbored traitors, and the latter was only concerned with self-preservation. In this chaotic world, it seemed that there was less and less to hold onto.
"Then... what about Brother Zhu? He's still thinking about finding the murderer," Gui'er asked.
"Keep him calm first," Wu Mingqiang said. "Once I find out about Zhou Hong, I might be able to find out who's chasing them. Letting him act impulsively now will only lead to his death."
After that, Gui'er continued to go to and from school every day. In addition to the salty smell of the sea breeze, the air in Hong Kong was filled with an increasingly strong smell of gunpowder. The Japanese army began military exercises on the north bank of the Shenzhen River again. At first, there were only sporadic artillery shots and drills, but later it turned into an open and blatant intimidation.
The military exercises began in mid-October. First, fishermen spotted a Japanese naval fleet patrolling the New Territories, its guns pointed directly at Hong Kong Island. Soldiers on deck stood ramrod straight, their helmets gleaming coldly in the sunlight. Then, the artillery on the north shore began test firing, the muffled roar echoing across the bay, rattling the windows of Kowloon. Initially, the Hong Kong British government only published a brief news item in a corner of the newspaper, stating it was a "routine Japanese military exercise" and urging citizens to "remain calm." But everyone could see that the guns were not aimed at a firing range at all.
By November, the military exercises had become increasingly massive. Every morning, searchlights on the north shore would sweep across Hong Kong's defenses, as if surveying an attack route; fighter jet formations would skim low over Victoria Harbour, the Rising Sun flags on their wings stinging the eyes, their engines tearing through the morning mist, startling rickshaw pullers into hiding under rooftops. Most unsettling was the movement of ground troops—through binoculars, one could see long lines of tanks and trucks on the north shore's roads, soldiers running with rifles on their backs, the dust they kicked up obscuring the sky and even carving deep ruts into the farmland on the opposite bank.
The Hong Kong British government's response was perfunctory. On the one hand, they announced "strengthened defenses" and ordered the volunteer army to dig trenches in the streets, yet they couldn't even provide enough shovels; on the other hand, they organized air raid drills for the citizens. As soon as the sirens sounded, every household hurriedly closed windows and turned off lights, but the air raid shelters lacked proper ventilation and were packed with people like stuffy cans. The Governor said on the radio that "the British army has sufficient strength to defend Hong Kong," but the wealthy had already begun to flee. HSBC's vaults were receiving a steady stream of gold bars loaded onto cruise ships every day, and tickets at the pier were being sold at exorbitant prices, with even second-class cabins requiring reservations half a month in advance.
The reactions from all sectors of society were starkly contrasting. Foreign firm owners gathered in clubs, drinking whiskey and discussing how to protect their assets should the Japanese attack; some even secretly sent people to contact the Japanese, hoping to salvage their businesses under the "new order." Newspaper editors struggled under the oppressive pressure of censorship. The *Ta Kung Pao* used the phrase "tense situation in the north" to allude to Japanese movements, and its supplement contained poems with metaphors of "a broken country." Meanwhile, pro-Japanese newspapers devoted large sections to the lie of "British-Japanese friendship," claiming the military exercises were merely a "friendly display."
Ordinary citizens lived in constant fear. Rice prices at the market changed daily, and housewives lined up before dawn, grateful to have even managed to snag half a bag of brown rice. Pharmacies were emptied of gauze and iodine, and some even hid mercurochrome and bandages under their beds, fearing they wouldn't be able to buy them during the war. Street laborers gathered on street corners, wiping their sweat and discussing, "If the Japanese really attack, where will we hide?" Some said they would return to the interior, others said they would hide in the mountains, but most just sighed—they had neither boat tickets nor money, and could only leave their fate to chance.
The atmosphere at school was oppressive. Teachers deliberately skipped over the words "peace" and "freedom" in the textbooks. Students circulated war reports from the mainland, some secretly pasted recruitment posters for the volunteer army on the back of their desks, and others wrote in their diaries, "If the city falls, I'd rather die than be a slave to a conquered nation." Among Gui'er's classmates, those from wealthier families had already packed their bags, saying they were going to Australia, Malaya, or even Macau to stay with relatives; those from poorer families were even more silent, their textbooks nearly worn out, unsure if they would be able to attend classes as usual the next day.
Every day, Dingxiang reports on the neighborhood: "Miss, Mrs. Li next door is packing boxes again today. I heard she hired three laborers to load the piano onto the car. She says she's going to Singapore to stay with her son." She holds a cup of freshly brewed tea, her tone slightly astonished. "And Mr. Zhang across the street, last night he replaced the car in his garage with gold bars. He says ship tickets are too hard to get, so he's planning to take the land route to Guangxi, and then find a way to go somewhere else."
Gui'er sat by the window, looking down at the villa area that was usually quiet and elegant, but now it was like a hornet's nest that had been disturbed. There was chaos everywhere. Several gardens were piled with half-open suitcases, and servants were carrying suitcases, calligraphy and paintings and antique vases in and out. Even the neatly trimmed lawns were trampled into a mess.
“And then there’s the Wang Mansion,” Dingxiang continued. “Their British butler ran off with some silverware yesterday, and Mr. Wang was furious. This morning he put up a ‘House for Urgent Sale’ sign, with the price 30% lower than the market price, saying that if it’s any later, it won’t sell.”
Gui'er glanced in the direction of the Wang Mansion and saw a wooden sign hanging on the gate. Several businessmen in suits were pointing and whispering around the butler, their faces full of opportunistic shrewdness.
"But the Lin family in the back row didn't move," Dingxiang added, remembering something. "Yesterday when I went to buy groceries, I saw Mr. Lin and his butler carrying medicine into the air-raid shelter. They said that if a fight broke out, someone would have to save lives. His young master even joined the volunteer army and stands guard at the street corner every day in his uniform."
Gui'er's heart stirred slightly. Boss Lin was a rare "oddball" in the community. Unlike other rich people who were in a hurry to run away, he built a temporary shelter in his garage and said that he was not going anywhere and that he must protect his home.
Just then, the roar of an engine came from outside the window. Gui'er peeked out and saw the black sedan belonging to the wealthy Chen family slowly driving out of the gate, followed by three trucks carrying heavy wooden crates, the seals of which appeared to be HSBC bank vault boxes. Mr. Chen stood at the gate, dressed in a sharp suit, shaking hands with a Japanese man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, his face plastered with a fawning smile, showing no sign of panic.