After leaving the Rockefeller Center in the San Francisco Bay Area, General Bourbon asked, "Colonel, what do you think?"

"Are our liaison representatives in the factories all in position?" Dan asked in return.

"They are, but we currently lack enough personnel who truly understand corporate management," Bourbon answered frankly.

Dan made no immediate comment. During his time in Germany, he had received a degree of attention from the "West German" authorities. On the voyage back to the Confederacy, he had undergone an intensive "compressed training" for middle and senior officers led by members of the German Communist Party who had served years in the WPLA.

"Compressed training" did not dwell on specific administrative tasks; it focused on the education of internal logic and methodology. Industrial nations possessed the capability for total mobilization, which involved far more than merely inducting men into the military. The bulk of the work lay in integrating a nation’s production and transport capabilities into the machinery of war.

This mode of mobilization was built upon an understanding of the nature of the conflict: who is the enemy, who is the friend, and what are the enemy's characteristics, strengths, limits, and current state.

Dan had participated in extensive practical work over the previous two years, and this training had given him a profound understanding of what his actions truly meant. It had also led him to a conviction—and a decision. Seeing that the General had fallen silent, Dan spoke again: "Chief of Staff, I request to be sent to the border regions to oversee the establishment of local bases. My objective will be to implement a strategy of mobile warfare and guerrilla resistance integrated with the local populace."

General Bourbon fixed Dan with a sharp gaze. The briefing Dan had given the industrial titans earlier had not matched his expectations, yet he currently lacked any other means of instilling confidence in those same giants.

By every measure, the South was industrially inferior to the North. The federal objective was a traditional frontal offensive against Southern cities, industry, and ports. They chose the traditional path because it was the one most validated by history.

During the first Civil War, the South had attempted guerrilla operations behind Northern lines once the invasion began, but those efforts had quickly faltered.

Hearing Dan volunteer for such a mission now, Bourbon pondered for a long time before finally making up his mind. "You may go. But the General Staff cannot provide you with much support."

"No problem," Dan replied instantly.

"Boy... you... take care of yourself," Bourbon added, his resolve wavering for a brief, fatherly moment.

"I will ensure you hear good news soon, sir," Dan answered.

On the return journey, Dan had conducted extensive war games with the small KPD team that had trained him. Overall, the North lacked the strength to shatter the South in a single wave; the South could hold the Western mountains. However, the eastern states were likely to collapse first under the Yankee onslaught. Once resistance in the eastern plains ended, the West would inevitably be forced to capitulate.

The simulations suggested that the only means of stopping the North was a campaign of mobile and guerrilla warfare in the East and Central regions. If the federal blitz could be stalled, the West could continuously funnel equipment and supplies to the front, sustaining the struggle.

Dan did not underestimate the industrialists; he did not assume they knew nothing of war. On the contrary, he believed that with proper education and training, they could become excellent officers. Thus, he had not tried to fool them with rhetoric about Southern bravery; instead, he had pointed the way using He Rui’s *On Protracted War* and *National Defense and Mobile Warfare*.

Only if these men believed the South possessed a viable model for victory would they truly grant their support. Dan believed the traditional model of war was insufficient to convince them.

By mid-April, both the United States and the Confederate States had declared to the world their respective visions for a "New America."

Intriguingly, both sides proclaimed their commitment to anti-fascism and anti-racism. Furthermore, both emphasized anti-imperialism and a foreign policy centered on maintaining peace and opposing war.

The Chinese leadership paid little heed to these pronouncements. Li Runshi’s first internal anti-corruption sweep was entering its final phase. A vast number of officials and business figures had fallen, many of them prominent individuals.

The impact of the purge was immense. Pro-capital media attempted to frame it as a case of "a new ruler means new ministers" to guide public opinion. The state media immediately countered, declaring that anti-corruption was a long-term, arduous task and that there would be no "campaign-style" purges. In this atmosphere, many across the country felt that the long-anticipated "reckoning" was finally beginning.

Li Runshi had no intention of a campaign-style purge. He published a signed article in the *National Daily* outlining the characteristics of the current era: "...While the problems in China's economic development are many, their essence lies in our transformation into an industrial nation. The people have gained advanced productivity from the industrial system, creating immense wealth. The culture, customs, and morality founded upon traditional agricultural production can no longer satisfy the people's needs for self-improvement or for peace and prosperity in a modern industrial society..."

Following this article, the *National Daily* and provincial papers launched a series of pieces on the subject. Radio and television media followed suit, producing extensive comparisons of life under different modes of production.

He Rui had returned to China in 1915—only thirty-one years ago. In 1946, there were still some three hundred million people who had reached adulthood before his return. These three hundred million could provide a mountain of concrete facts. The propaganda department needed to invent nothing; they only had to conduct interviews and comparisons to produce undeniably real data.

While Li Runshi believed He Rui had never truly become a Materialist, he still held the man in profound respect. He Rui had often told him: "The propaganda department is an offensive organ. The moment it becomes just another office, it becomes a hall of the King of Hell." As a former Director of Propaganda himself, Li agreed wholeheartedly.

Thus, from the beginning, Li emphasized: "This comparison is not for 'recalling bitterness to appreciate sweetness.' It is to utilize Materialist logic and methodology to view the events of the past. From a political standpoint, 'recalling bitterness' is for the sake of stability.

"The development of productivity inevitably leads to social change, and change leads to instability. Only by understanding where the changes come from can we realize what the people truly need now.

"So long as the Party and government adhere to the attitude of serving the people heart and soul, we need not fear the impact of social change on stability. We are part of the people; their feelings are ours.

"As the vanguard, the Party must face change head-on and understand its impact on the people. We must use a Materialist attitude to grasp the underlying contradictions and how to address the problems they trigger.

"The purpose of this comparison is to allow the people—and ourselves—to see the substance of the changes. We must understand the major contradictions that have ended, those that are occurring now, those that have emerged from secondary contradictions, and those born of the new conditions.

"If we want the people to truly understand what is happening, we must oppose the model of 'recalling bitterness'!"

Li emphasized this "opposition to recalling bitterness" several times during the offensive propaganda campaign.

As a revolutionary and an experienced politician, one of Li’s primary goals in this campaign was to "unite the majority, maximize friends, and minimize enemies." Only through comparison and by guiding the people's understanding could the philosophy of Materialist Dialectics be truly universalized.

"After three years in charge, even the dog is hated." The Civilization Party had been in power for thirty years since 1915. Its various policies had inevitably accumulated a vast reservoir of grievances. No matter the scale of the achievements, those grievances persisted. This was why even a man like former Premier Wu Youping, whose work was beyond reproach, had been saddled with the nickname "Wu Song" (a reference to the corrupt Ming official Yan Song).

Only by reviewing and reflecting on the He Rui era could China move past that phase and into a new one. This was not only to give an accounting to the comrades of that era but to prevent the formation of false expectations that would burden the new age.

The campaign lasted from April to June, and the results satisfied Li Runshi. The most important objective—establishing the concept of "New China"—had been thoroughly achieved.

Li sought most of all to unite those born after 1920. Now twenty-six at their oldest, they were the most receptive to the new. This was why he had addressed his satellite broadcast to the youth.

Twenty million of this generation had served in the Second World War, and the entire generation had been part of the total mobilization system. They had been tempered by collective education and the baptism of fire. The victory had led them to truly accept the ideals of the new era, possessing a desire to build the motherland and experience a better life, along with the skills for social cooperation.

The feedback was clear: this generation accepted the concept of New China. They viewed the He Rui government as the founder of a new nation, not as a continuation of the old Beiyang regime.

Through the systematic media campaign, the youth understood that both the Beiyang and He Rui governments were merely different stages of a continuous Chinese history. They were linked by sequence, personnel, and blood.

But between New China and Old China, there lay a chasm. The standard for that chasm was simple: was China the China of the powerful, or the China of the people?

Beyond the victory in ideology, the success of the policy explanations also pleased Li. For instance, the public finally grasped the logic of land reform.

The land redemption policy had successfully completed nationalization, granting people equitable rights of usage. The buyouts had also provided a massive influx of capital to the public, forming the basis for the subsequent development of small commodity economies.

Because the land revolution had been so successful in eliminating the contradictions of private ownership, the public rarely praised it. Instead, the two to three million deaths during the struggle against the resistance were used as ammunition by the urban petty bourgeoisie and small landlords to attack the government.

Amusingly, while the small and medium landlords had resisted most fiercely, the great landlords—those who truly understood the nature of private property—had mostly yielded immediately.

In interviews, these great landlords—their faces technically obscured—gave the land reform high marks. They believed He Rui’s policy of "asset restructuring for bankrupt rural areas" had struck at the very heart of the rural crisis.

While some local and even central propaganda officials lacked the theoretical depth to handle this part of the campaign, overall, the public understanding shifted from a "Benevolent Governance" perspective to one of "Asset Restructuring."

Li cared whether the "restructuring" was seen as benefiting the people or the "asset owners." If the former, the deaths of millions were a personal tragedy for those who opposed social progress. If the latter, they were a social tragedy.

By using historical materialism to define good and evil, social and personal tragedies could be distinguished, and problems truly resolved. This had been Li’s goal. He knew He Rui had never bothered to defend himself, but the regime bore the duty of telling the truth to the people.

He Rui had died before he could conduct such a campaign; during his life, other major contradictions had taken precedence. Now was the time for a final verdict. Without one, the bones of the past would rot and become a breeding ground for poisonous pests.

Perhaps because the people had awakened, or because the campaign was so successful, the expected opposition remained quiet.

With no rivals to challenge them, the propaganda department shelved many of its more detailed plans, particularly regarding the comparison of living standards—a field ripe for debate.

Since three hundred million adults from thirty years ago were still alive, the standards of the past were clear. By 1946, the life of an ordinary citizen surpassed that of a small landlord three decades prior.

Thanks to social progress, commoners could eat tropical fruits in the winter. In every category of life—food, clothing, shelter—the urban masses now enjoyed a social existence that outstripped what even the great landlords of thirty years ago could command.

These changes could not be explained by "restructuring" alone; they required an understanding of the nation’s capacity for development.

Before 1924, the old elite had neither the capacity nor the will for national development. The people had the will but lacked the capacity. This universal powerlessness had led to total despair.

New China possessed both. But initially, it lacked national power—hence the revolutionary war. Victory had paved the way for high-speed development.

In that development, the He Rui government had employed officials from the old era and cooperated with domestic and foreign capitalists and imperialists for mutual benefit. But the essence of that development was fundamentally different.

Exploitation, corruption, and crime had occurred during those partnerships, even acts of national betrayal for personal gain. Yet these could not be viewed through the lens of a simple "enemy vs. friend" contradiction. To guide these discussions, Li had penned his article *On the Ten Great Contradictions*.

By June, public interest in the campaign had waned. At the level accessible to the masses, everything had been said and understood. Higher-level issues were beyond their grasp and thus held little interest.

It was only then that pro-capital media finally began to challenge the state outlets.

Simultaneously, the Nuremberg Tribunal concluded its trials of Britain and Belgium. Winston Churchill, the British Colonial Secretary, and many other British and Belgian officials and leaders—including the Belgian King—were sentenced to death.

The news triggered celebrations across the globe among those who had suffered under colonialism and imperialism. While they had long wished for the deaths of these criminals, a formal death sentence was a moment of supreme justice.

Nationalist newspapers in China published letters from readers demanding the restoration of ancient tortures: the execution of nine generations, lingchi, and waist-chopping.

Li Runshi had prepared for this. The *National Daily* immediately published an article: *To Forget the Past is to Betray History, but to Dwell in it is to Forgo the Future*.

"...The old era is part of human civilization. No matter how bloody, brutal, or shameless, it must not be denied or forgotten. But civilization must progress, not be shackled by the past.

"Torture is for the sake of making an impression. To immerse ourselves in the torture of the old elite is to remain stalled within their era.

"Citizens, revolutionaries: Execute the ringleaders, release the followers. This is not a compromise with evil, but a judgment of the past as we stride into the new era..."