The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 917 The Final Ultimatum, the Eight-Nation Alliance

“Give them twenty-four hours!” Luo Yaoguo turned around and looked at his prized student. “The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom is going to lead the world. Before the war, morality must prevail! Let the world see that we are reasonable and do not necessarily have to resort to violence! If the enemy is willing to accept our terms, war can be avoided.”

"Teacher is kind and righteous," Wang Yan praised Luo Yaoguo, but he knew perfectly well that these 24 hours were just for show—the British fleet adrift at sea would not receive the telegrams, and when the ultimatum expired and the Taiping army's shells rained down on them, they wouldn't even know that the war had begun!
Of course, this can't be considered a sneak attack—after all, what would they be doing with such a large fleet sneaking towards the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's coastline?
Luo Yaoguo held up one finger: "My ultimatum to them was only one: All NATO countries must withdraw their entire forces from the Pacific! Not an inch of coastline or a single warship is allowed to remain!"

Wang Yan was taken aback: "NATO countries? There are eight member states in NATO now! Seven of them have territory in or along the Pacific Ocean."

Luo Yaoguo sneered, "Germany will probably get involved too. The Eight-Nation Alliance couldn't function without Germany!"

Wang Yan nodded emphatically: "That's right! Our Taiping Heavenly Kingdom must also compete with Germany!"

London, another misty morning, the black gates of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom embassy burst open with a roar. Kang Youwei, the 25-year-old first secretary, clutched a telegram and ran frantically, oblivious to the rusty stains on his sleeve brushing against the courtyard's iron railing.

"Ambassador, Ambassador Tianjing, Tianjing, Tianjing"

Perhaps because he had run too fast, by the time he reached the embassy restaurant and saw Wu Tingfang having breakfast, he was out of breath.

"Guangsha!" Ambassador Wu Tingfang's silver chopsticks paused on the rim of his wonton noodle bowl as he looked at the telegram in Kang Youwei's hand. "A telegram from Tianjing?"

"The east wind releases a thousand trees of flowers at night, and blows down stars like rain!" Kang Youwei's voice trembled.

The porcelain spoon clattered to the ground. Wu Tingfang grabbed the telegram and scanned it. It contained only a poem by Xin Qiji—a coded message whose meaning was known only to Wu Tingfang, who had arrived in England a month earlier, and his first secretary, Kang Youwei. He shoved aside the bowl of noodles: "Everyone under house arrest! Follow me to the main building to retrieve the ultimatum!"

Deep within the embassy's safe lay the gilded-covered "Ultimatum to the United Kingdom." Luo Yaoguo's vermilion seal was already affixed to the blank space, awaiting only the date. Wu Tingfang dipped his brush in ink, his wrist as steady as a mountain: "June 1, 1883."

Before the ink was even dry, he grabbed his top hat and said to Kang Youwei beside him, "Guangsha, let's go to Whitehall Street! Let the old British hear what the East Wind is all about!"

On the oak desk of Foreign Minister Earl Derby, the hands of the gilded grandfather clock slid to 10 o'clock. As Kang Youwei slid the ultimatum across the table, the cigar between Derby's fingers snapped abruptly.

“Twenty-four hours,” Wu Tingfang said in a cold and harsh tone in English, “If no agreement is received by this time tomorrow, the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom and the United Kingdom will enter a state of war.”

The Earl of Derby's gaze was fixed on the key sentence: "...NATO member states must withdraw all military presence and economic privileges in the Pacific region, as well as illegally acquired territories..." He suddenly looked up, his hooked nose casting a shadow on his pale face: "Withdraw? You want to take away a hundred years of the British Empire's foundation!"

“It’s a return to its rightful owner.” Wu Tingfang smoothed out the wrinkles on his sleeve. “The waves of the Pacific Ocean have always belonged only to the people on both sides of the strait.”

The ticking of the clock filled the deathly silence of the room.

"You yellow-skinned monkeys will go to hell!"

Derby cursed, grabbed the ultimatum, and strode out of his office, yelling at his secretary who was standing guard outside the door, "Get those two yellow-skinned monkeys out of here!"

In the Cabinet Room of 10 Downing Street, a crystal chandelier illuminated seven faces with varying expressions. Derby slammed the ultimatum onto the long table: "The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom has preemptively delivered their ultimatum to us. They want to monopolize the Pacific! They won't even spare Guam and East Timor!"

Prime Minister Disraeli grabbed the translation, his brow furrowing slightly: "This ultimatum must have been brought by Ambassador Wu when he came to Britain last month. It seems the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom has been preparing to declare war on us for a long time!"

"Your Excellency the Prime Minister!" the First Lord of the Navy interrupted urgently, "Will the northbound flotilla of the Australian fleet..."

Disraeli was also taken aback. The Australian fleet's northward detachment had 18 capital ships (battleships, battlecruisers, and armored cruisers)! Although the Royal Navy had a plan to build a 140-ship capital fleet years earlier, naval shipbuilding technology had advanced by leaps and bounds in the last one or two decades! Often, the design of a class of warships was already completely outdated by the time the lead ship was completed, and subsequent ships required major modifications, while the lead ship was already being considered for refitting. Therefore, this "140-ship plan" had been fraught with difficulties, and it was only slightly more than half completed, with 78 capital ships in service and more than 70 more (with additional projects, so the total will exceed 140). The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, on the other hand, had at least 38 capital ships, less than half the number of Britain's, but they always brought out the best designs of their time and also reserved the most suitable upgrade space. Therefore, the Royal Navy had to maintain a significant numerical advantage.

Otherwise, no one would dare send the Royal Navy to the Pacific Ocean.

“No, no.” Disraeli thought for a moment, then shook his head. “It’s impossible for the Australian fleet’s northward detachment to be exposed.”

First Lord of the Navy, Sir Caldwell, also breathed a sigh of relief and nodded repeatedly: "Yes, yes, it's impossible for the northward detachment to be exposed."

Foreign Secretary Earl Derby picked up the "ultimatum" the Prime Minister had tossed onto the wooden table, studied it for a moment, and whispered, "Prime Minister, Britain isn't the only country with interests in the Pacific!" He turned abruptly, pointing to a world map, which displayed numerous national flags: "The French Empire possesses New Caledonia and French Polynesia; the Dutch colonial empire has Sumatra; the Spanish Empire has Guam and the Micronesian Islands; Portugal has Timor, famous for its sandalwood; and the Russian Empire has Eastern Siberia and a vast coastline! Not to mention America, they're currently fighting to reclaim their West Coast!"

"And then there's Germany. Although they don't have any colonies in the Pacific, they've always considered themselves the second strongest power in NATO." Disraeli turned to Earl Derby. "Earl, I need the envoys from the seven nations to be at 10 Downing Street within an hour! We eight nations must act in unison and show the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom what an Eight-Nation Alliance is!"

The afternoon sun over the Pacific Ocean scorched the deck of the armored cruiser "Jinghai". Captain Luo Xinhua held up his binoculars, and through the lens, eighteen British warships and armored cruisers were slowly changing formation around "Indomitable" as their axis, with the smoke billowing from their funnels polluting the blue sky with impunity.

"The British ship is turning southeast!" the lookout shouted. "Speed ​​up to 14 knots, trying to shake us off!"

Luo Xinhua sneered, "Keep your distance and exhaust their coal reserves!" He turned to the telegraph officer and asked, "Where is the Pacific Fleet flagship, the Jiangsu?"

"The main fleet has arrived at the Bashi Channel! The 'Hiden' is leading a torpedo destroyer squadron, 20 nautical miles northwest, on standby!"

Before the words were even finished, the door to the radio room was flung open: "Urgent telegram from Tianjing! The final ultimatum has been issued, the countdown to war has begun!"

Luo Xinhua grabbed the telegram, his gaze sweeping over the coded message "East wind releases a thousand trees of flowers at night," before settling on the last digit—23:59:59. He strode onto the bridge, the sea breeze filling his brand-new blue naval uniform: "Send the signal! All ships raise the battle flags, keep the gun covers on, but turn the gun muzzles toward the British fleet!"

On the flagship of the Union Navy, through Vice Admiral George Trein's binoculars, a string of scarlet signal flags suddenly rose from the distant, grey-blue armored cruiser. The staff officer, flipping through the signals manual, said in a hoarse voice, "General... that's the Pacific Navy's combat doctrine: 'Deterrence escort, preventing enemy escape.' They're..."

"This is a provocation!" Lieutenant General George Trein slammed his fist on the compass cabinet. But he was now completely helpless against this "Jinghai-class" ship that could run 24 knots.

His battleships had all undergone modernization, with added armor and heavier turrets, which increased their weight and reduced their speed considerably, making it impossible for them to catch up with that fast ship.

Those Rafale-class destroyers could catch up, but the Jinghai's eight 210mm guns, which had previously set a record for the highest first-round strafing shot, could hunt down the Rafale-class destroyers far too easily.
In the Downing Street meeting room in London, envoys from seven nations held a late-night meeting under gaslights. Disraeli slammed the ultimatum on the French envoy: "The French Empire must declare war on the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom!"

The French minister from Corsica nodded: "Declaring war is no problem, but the Corsican government has no warships available for operations in the Pacific..."

"Just declare war!" Disraeli couldn't possibly expect that old lady Mathilde's French Empire to actually send troops—they were already "occupied in Corsica"!

His gaze then turned to the Spanish and Portuguese ambassadors huddled in the corner. Count Deby, the Foreign Minister, suddenly interjected: "Spain and Portugal have nothing to lose anyway. The Empire expects you to abide by your treaty obligations!"

The two could only nod and force a smile—weak nations have no diplomacy! Even NATO countries!
The Russian envoy was enthusiastic, but then suddenly stood up: "Our Baltic Fleet is ready to sail! It can head to the Pacific Ocean at any time!"

"We in Germany will also send the large protected cruiser Empress Augusta!" German Minister Wilhelm Richthofen also appeared very enthusiastic!
Germany and Russia are now two acting masters on the European continent, putting on the act of being good brothers with Great Britain.

As for the US ambassador, he was even more excited—happiness came a little too fast! The Eight-Nation Alliance couldn't even defeat the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom?
Disraeli nodded in satisfaction: "Gentlemen, only if we unite as one will the world for the next hundred years, no, for a thousand years, still belong to us—Christian white civilization! Because our eight nations combined possess more than 140 capital ships, two and a half times more than the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, we will surely win the future!"

(End of this chapter)