The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 1007: What is the Price?
San Francisco, Imperial Palace of the American Empire, Pacific Hall.

Hong Tiangui stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, the Pacific sea breeze ruffling his marshal's uniform from the Southwest Normal University. Outside, in the thick fog of the Golden Gate Strait, the battleship "California" of the Imperial Pacific Fleet was slowly sailing into the deep sea.

“Your Majesty!” The heavy thud of War Secretary Zenk O’Hara’s boots echoed on the marble floor. “Twenty divisions have already withdrawn from the Missouri River front and are ready to march south at any time!”

Hong Tiangui's finger lightly traced the map of Mexico before finally landing heavily on Mexico City: "It's Mexico City's turn! Twenty divisions. I want Mexico City in three months. Any problems?"

Imperial Chief of Staff Zhao Zai said, "Your Majesty, as long as these twenty divisions can reach the front line in Mexico City within a month, I am confident that we will be able to take Mexico City within three months."

Hong Tiangui turned to look at Navy Minister Luo Zhongtian.

Navy Minister Luo Zhongtian frowned: "Your Majesty, the Naval Engineering Bureau has completed the expansion of Acapulco Port, and we now have a sufficient number of troop transport ships. Give me 20 days, and I am confident that I can complete 20 divisions."

Army Minister Zeng Kedao said: "It is only 380 kilometers from the port of Acapulco to Mexico City. The Army Engineering Bureau has also completed a temporary railway, which is enough to send 20 divisions to the front line in 10 days!"

"Okay!" Hong Tiangui nodded. "Military expenses?"

Finance Minister Huang Shiren's hands trembled slightly as he held the account book: "Your Majesty, we currently have ten divisions on the Mexican battlefield. If we add another twenty divisions to the southern campaign, and we also need to attack Mexico City, a fortified city, we will need 6000 million imperial silver dollars based on three months of high-intensity combat."

“Let’s get a loan from the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom Bank,” Hong Tiangui sneered. “Use the silver mines in Mexico as collateral.” He turned to the Deputy Foreign Minister, Mike O’Hara, “Immediately notify the Foreign Minister in Rome, Brigham Young Jr., to schedule separate meetings with the British and German representatives.”

O'Hara quickly pulled out his notebook to jot down the key points.

Hong Tiangui then said: "First, the American Empire promises not to build a fleet in the Atlantic; second, we hope Germany will mediate our relationship with the United States; third, tell the Germans that I have no interest in Europe and do not expect to unify America. I can't handle the 4000 million white supremacists in the East! I just want a stable Mexico."

Suddenly, the sound of orderly footsteps echoed outside the palace gates. Hong Tiangui pushed open the French windows—in the palace square, three elite divisions were holding a departure ceremony. The soldiers' bayonets reflected the California sunlight, and the black dragon flag fluttered in the morning breeze.

"General Zeng Ke!" Hong Tiangui pointed south, "The vanguard must depart immediately. I will spend Christmas in Mexico City this year!"

Rome, Embassy of the American Empire.

Foreign Secretary Brigham Young's pen scratched across the coded telegram: "His Majesty agrees to rule Mexico in the name of the Kingdom of America, but it must be separate from the Empire. Furthermore, naval expansion is limited to the Pacific."

The secretary whispered a reminder: "Sir, the German representative has arrived in the meeting room."

Young Brigham adjusted his tie. Looking in the mirror, he suddenly remembered Hong Tiangui's instructions before his departure: "Tell Bismarck—the American Empire is willing to maintain peace with the German Empire."

Inside the meeting room, German State Secretary Bismarck Jr. was reviewing "An Analysis of the North American Situation." Upon seeing Brigham Young Jr. enter, he closed the document and went straight to the point:

What does your emperor desire?

“Three things,” Young Brigham Young said, holding up a finger. “First, Germany should broker a ceasefire agreement between the American Empire and the United States of America in a state of hostility; second, Krupp should transfer some military technology to our country; third,” he lowered his voice, “your country must restrain Sherman from crossing the current military demarcation line between the two sides.”

Bismarck squinted: "The price?"

“Friendship of the American Empire!” Brigham Young said with a smile.

"That's all?" Bismarck frowned.

Young Brigham nodded: "Think about who your German Empire will be at odds with now and in the future, right? The friendship of the American Empire is very precious to you!"

Tianjing, the Prime Minister's Office.

Luo Yaoguo pushed aside the loan application from the American Empire: "Tell Hong Tiangui that the loan can be granted, but the collateral must be the customs of the Kingdom of America."

Wang Yan, the Minister of the Navy standing to the side, frowned: "Teacher, what if the American Empire grows too powerful?"

“It’s alright.” Luo Yaoguo unfolded a Pacific map. “No matter how much they struggle, the American Empire and the United States are always on the front lines against white civilization.” His fingers tapped lightly on the world map. “Moreover, the American West and Mexico lack coal and iron, making it impossible to develop heavy industry. They will always be our pawns! And very good pawns!” He then turned to Wu Tingfang, the Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs, and said, “Tell Wu Chaoyue that the bargaining with the British should end. Australia, New Zealand, British Burma, Malaya, Sumatra, Canada, and the Pacific and surrounding areas should be incorporated into the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom’s sphere of influence! As long as Britain agrees, the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom can consider sending battleships to help them fight the Germans!”

"Teacher, you said you're going to send battleships to Europe?" Wang Yan exclaimed in surprise. "But we're at odds with Germany..."

Luo Yaoguo coldly said, "Wang Yan, there are no permanent friends in the world, only permanent interests. Right now, neither we nor Britain want the German Empire to unify Europe! And we happen to have the strength to stop the German Empire! So not sending troops is not an option at all; what we need to consider is whether we can gain more benefits by sending troops!"

"After consideration, what does the Premier want?" Wu Tingfang asked.

Luo Yaoguo replied, "After the war, the Persian Gulf will become the sphere of influence of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom!"

Potsdam, the Imperial Conference Room at Sanssouci Palace. Late autumn, 1887.

Tirpitz's naval whip slammed heavily on the North Atlantic chart, its metal tip scraping against the ports of New York, Philadelphia, Norfolk, and others with a piercing sound.

"Your Highness!" The new Secretary of the Navy's voice trembled slightly with excitement. "The shipyards on the East Coast of the United States are now able to launch two 20,000-ton warships every month! Their steel production is now twice that of Britain, provided Krupp provides the latest carburizing armor technology."

"Here!" Prince William (the future Wilhelm II) abruptly stood up, the Order of Hohenzollern on his chest gleaming under the chandelier. The twenty-eight-year-old heir apparent stood tall and straight, his neatly trimmed beard revealing a taut jawline. He turned to Bismarck, who stood in the shadows by the window: "Your Excellency Chancellor, what do you think?"

Bismarck, silhouetted against the shadows, slowly exhaled a puff of cigar smoke. The Iron Chancellor appeared exceptionally aged in the candlelight, sitting by the window like a silent statue. Only when Prince William's sharp gaze swept over him did he speak in a hoarse voice: "Article Four of the Iron Union..." A violent cough interrupted him; the old Chancellor pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his mouth, "American oil in exchange for German technology. As long as America is willing to provide the corresponding amount of oil!"

An attendant whispered in Prince William's ear, "Your Highness, news has just arrived from Berlin that His Majesty the Emperor's fever has returned. The royal physician says..."

Prince Wilhelm tapped his fingers three times on the table, interrupting the attendant's report. His gaze swept over the generals present: "My father and my grandfather are both on their sickbeds, but the German Empire cannot stop."

Marshal Moltke's baton slid gently across the map of Eastern Europe. The 78-year-old general's hands were covered in age spots, but his voice remained strong: "The Russian problem...will require more time." His fingertip traced a trembling circle in the direction of St. Petersburg. "And the timing of the decisive battle in Paris depends on our gains on the Eastern Front."

Prince William suddenly grabbed a red and blue pencil. His hand was as steady as a rock, and the pencil tip drew a straight red line on the map: "From Narva to Kiev, along the four major rivers: the Narva, the West Dvina, the Dnieper, and the Dniester." The pencil tip emphasized the words "500,000 square kilometers." "That's it!"

The newly appointed Chief of Naval Staff, Albrecht von Störsch, immediately began working on the blueprints. The Heligoland-class battleships on the parchment drawings featured sharp lines, with the barrels of eight 305mm main guns pointing like swords into the sky. "The thickest part of the armor belt is 350mm," his voice sharp with excitement, "enough to blast the British Orion-class into scrap metal!"

"Thirty ships!" Prince William suddenly raised his voice, his youthful tone echoing in the conference room. "Next autumn, in the North Sea, we need thirty new battleships!" His gaze swept over everyone present. "Tell Sherman to crush those worker thugs first, then..."

Just then, another royal attendant arrived and handed Bismarck a telegram. Bismarck glanced at it and exclaimed, "Your Highness! It's from Herbert in Rome! Luo Yaoguo wants not only Australia and New Zealand, but also the Persian Gulf!"

"The Persian Gulf?" Prince William narrowed his eyes slightly. "Isn't that right next to India? Britain wouldn't agree to that, would they?"

Bismarck shook his head: "Salisbury has already verbally agreed."

Prince William's face suddenly flushed crimson: "The price." He asked in a deep voice, "What is the price?"

10 Downing Street, London.

The Earl of Salisbury pushed the Pacific Agreement toward Prime Minister Gladstone: "The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom wants the Persian Gulf."

First Lord of the Admiralty George Hamilton slammed his fist on the table and exclaimed, "That's tantamount to handing India's door over to them!"

"But Luo Yaoguo agreed to send twenty capital ships to Europe," Salisbury said calmly, "including ten battleships and ten armored cruisers or battlecruisers."

Indian Affairs Secretary Randolph Churchill scoffed: "Trading India's security for the balance of power in Europe?"

“No.” Salisbury looked out the window at the Thames River. “It’s the oil from the Persian Gulf that’s being traded for the survival of the British Empire.”

(End of this chapter)