The expeditionary force began to dominate Southeast Asia by recruiting defeated soldiers

Chapter 489: Lifetime Grand Marshal of the Army, Navy, and Air Force of the Kingdom of Siam

The sky in Bangkok is as clear as a mirror, and the sunlight generously shines on the magnificent glazed tile roof of the Grand Palace, reflecting a dazzling light.

In front of this magnificent palace, which symbolizes the power of the Siamese monarchy, the vast Royal Square has been arranged into a solemn ceremony site.

A red carpet was laid from the palace gate to the high platform in the center of the square. On both sides stood the solemn Siamese royal guards, dressed in gorgeous traditional costumes, holding gilded spears, and looking respectful.

Outside the square, the Anmin Army soldiers, armed with live ammunition, with sharp eyes and wearing military uniforms, guarded the venue like a Great Wall of Steel.

Further away, there was a huge crowd of people.

There are local Siamese people wearing tube skirts and with complicated expressions; there are overseas Chinese wearing suits or Mao suits, with faces full of pride and excitement;

There were also reporters from major news agencies and newspapers around the world, holding cameras and recording this historic moment with spotlights flashing from time to time.

The Nan Hua Broadcasting Station's live commentator was broadcasting live to the entire Nanyang in passionate Chinese;

The photography team of Nan Hua Television, which was preparing to launch the event, carried heavy cameras and frantically captured every detail. These precious images would become excellent material for the future promotion of the Nanyang Republic.

In the sky, a formation of more than 20 of the latest P-51H "Mustang" fighter jets flew over the field at low altitude in a strict formation. The roar of their engines rolled across the sky like thunder, declaring unparalleled air supremacy.

A day ago, they had just escorted the uncrowned king of Nanyang, Zhang Chi, from Yangon to Bangkok.

At the entrance to the square, twenty-one cannon salutes were fired.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Zhang Chi appeared.

He declined the offer to ride in a luxurious royal carriage and instead rode in an open military jeep, escorted by a team of elite guards on motorcycles, slowly driving along the red carpet to the stage.

His straight, new-style general's uniform without epaulettes sparkled in the sunlight.

When the jeep stopped at the end of the red carpet and Zhang Chi stepped onto the square that was a little hot from the scorching sun, an indescribable feeling of detachment instantly enveloped him.

There was the deafening roar of the salute, the glittering golden spears of the royal guard, and the vague and noisy voices of the distant sea of ​​people.

All of this was terrifyingly real, yet it seemed as if there was a transparent barrier between him and the world.

Successful and famous?

maybe.

When Boss Cao welcomed back Emperor Xian and became the prime minister, the de facto uncrowned king, was his mood any different from how he feels now?

On the surface, there was no superfluous expression on Zhang Chi's face, only a calm and powerful self-confidence, as if all the splendor and glory before him were just natural footnotes.

'The Grand Palace... King Hadamard... Generalissimo of the Siamese Armed Forces' These terms swirled in his mind, with a sense of distance like a history textbook.

In his previous life, the ordinary college student who stayed up late in front of the computer and struggled for life is now standing at the center of the power vortex in Southeast Asia.

Zhang Chi raised his head slightly and looked at the young, nervous king on the podium who was trying hard to maintain his dignity, as if he was looking at an exquisite antique in a museum that had lost its practical function.

Royal power?

He sneered in his heart, thinking that in front of these guns and systems, they were just a layer of gorgeous wrapping paper.

Behind King Hadamard stood members of the Siamese royal family and senior cabinet officials with complicated expressions.

There is also a conspicuous figure - Lieutenant General Hao Qi, commander of the Anmin Army stationed in Siam.

Zhang Chi noticed that Hao Qi was wearing the same neat new uniform of the Anmin Army, with medals hanging all over his chest. He tried to make himself look serious, but the moment he made eye contact with him, he failed and turned into a funny guy.

Just like when they were guerrillas in the mountains and jungles.

Zhang Chi's military boots stepped on the red carpet, walked through the forest of crossed golden spears on both sides, walked in front of the king, and stopped.

The young Siamese King Hadamard, dressed in a traditional golden royal robe and a heavy crown on his head, stared at the man who had forcibly occupied his country, wondering what he was thinking.

Both sides were silent at this moment.

According to the traditional Siamese etiquette for audience with the king, subjects must prostrate themselves on the ground.

At this moment, the entire square suddenly became quiet, and countless eyes were focused on Zhang Chi, holding their breath.

Zhang Chi just nodded slightly, so little that it was almost a symbolic nod.

He did not bend down, let alone kneel, nor did he even give a standard bow. His eyes calmly met the young king, as if he was going to crown the king next.

The next second, this instantaneous action was like a huge rock thrown into a calm lake, causing a silent storm in the square.

Many people's faces turned pale in an instant, their eyes filled with humiliation, shock and disbelief.

Several old-school nobles even swayed slightly and almost fainted.

This is a blatant blasphemy against royal authority.

However, when their eyes fell on the cold muzzles of the guns of the Security Army soldiers below the stage and the tank turrets vaguely visible in the distance, all their anger turned into powerless cries.

Local residents outside the square had mixed reactions.

From a distance, they saw Zhang Chi standing there as if it was a matter of course, without even kneeling on one knee.

Some people looked worried, feeling deeply sad and uneasy about the military occupation of their country and the humiliation of the royal power.

Another group of people, especially young people who have received modern education and do not have much respect for the old monarchy, felt a strange shock.

They looked at the young, strong figure on the stage who represented powerful military force, and thought of how he had expelled the Western colonists and the Japanese invaders. A thought quietly grew in their minds: "We Asians can also be so powerful."

Perhaps he is the force that can lead Siam and Southeast Asia to truly stand up?

Most of these young intellectuals are not closed-minded and are willing to accept any advanced forces that can make them stronger.

On the other side, the Chinese and overseas Chinese who gathered together, clearly separated from the locals, burst into suppressed low cheers and warm applause!

They straightened their backs, with undisguised pride and satisfaction on their faces.

For so many years, the Chinese in Southeast Asia have been either hard-working pigs or shrewd but marginalized businessmen. Have they ever had such an honorable moment?

Perhaps there was? But the existence of the first Chinese Siamese King Taksin was only a distant history, while Zhang Chi was right before their eyes!

Their leader did not even need to be kneeled by the King of Siam. This was not only a reflection of Zhang Chi's personal dignity, but also a symbol of the earth-shaking status of the entire Nanyang Chinese community.

What does a rising tide lift all boats?

They truly felt the protection and glory brought by this power, and many of them were moved to tears.

The younger generation of Chinese businessmen and intellectuals were so excited that they seemed to be ready to shout out.