The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 971 The Mexicans listened and said, "I'll give you a chance to be Americans!"
In the newly completed conference room of the Imperial Palace of the American Empire in San Francisco, Emperor Hong Tiangui sat upright in a gilded high-backed chair. The gold sash of his Prussian-style field marshal's uniform was slightly tight. His fingers unconsciously tapped the teak tabletop, his gaze sweeping across the map at the Hawaiian Islands, a tiny dot entangled and swallowed by countless red and blue arrows. The ticking of the sandalwood carved clock weighed heavily on the heart.

"As of last night, 173 crisscrossing minefields had formed in the waters off Hawaii, with a total of 4,800 mines of various types laid." Navy Minister Luo Zhongtian turned to a new page in the battle report, his voice deliberately raised, attempting to drown out the disturbing pendulum swing with his words. "The Pacific Navy's submarine force, relying on Oahu Island, has implemented a cluster attack tactic, sinking seven United States transport ships and damaging its armored cruiser USS Atlanta."

The Emperor suddenly raised his hand, the gold watch chain on his wrist jingling, cutting off the report. "South Pacific Fleet—Has Port Moresby been captured?" The American Emperor's voice was cold and hard.

Luo Zhongtian bowed even more deeply: "The landing was successful four days ago. The fortress complex and the area around Red Beach have now been cleared. According to the Pacific Command's war situation analysis, the remaining ANZAC forces are holed up in the city of Moresby. It is expected that the entire Port Moresby will be under the control of the Taiping Army within a week! General Zhang Bao of the Southern Pacific Command stated that after capturing the city, they will immediately march into the Australian mainland!"

Hong Tiangui snorted and slumped back in his chair. The gilded eagle emblem on the gold-lacquered back reflected his grim expression. "Australia... a wild, barbaric island. Take it and plant sorghum?" His finger slammed heavily on the vast expanse of land marked in glaring yellow on the west coast of America. "North America! North America is the real treasure!" He slammed his fist on the edge of the map. "Most of the Hawaiian Islands are under the control of the US-British coalition, and Kulunka Bay has been unconquered for so long. What exactly does King Luo Wu mean? Does he no longer care about our American Empire?"

These words caused all the ministers present to lower their hands and hold their breath. Fine beads of sweat appeared on the forehead of Army Minister Han Yulin, Finance Minister Huang Shiren nervously turned his white jade thumb ring, and even the Imperial Chief of Staff, General "Black Zengk" Zengk Ohara, had a face as taut as cast iron. Only the Emperor's heavy breathing and the persistent ticking of the grandfather clock filled the hall.

Just then, the hurried sound of leather shoes clattering over the glazed tiles of Jingdezhen broke the silence. Earl O'Connor, Director of Imperial Intelligence, strode in, his impeccably tailored English tailcoat highlighting his Irish-Japanese features—his father was O'Connor, the California Senator promoted by Hong Renzheng in his early years, and his mother was O'Connor's Japanese wife. O'Connor was long gone, but this young O'Connor had served the emperor well, earning a title of Earl and the position of Director of Imperial Intelligence.

"Your Majesty. Secret telegram from the Eastern United States!" The intelligence chief handed over a newly translated telegram with both hands.
Hong Tiangui snatched it away, his eyes scanning the text like lightning: "The First Army Group of the United States East Coast is secretly assembling armored trains to the Texas border, increasing the number to eight. The cavalry regiment's base has been moved to Fort Worth."

A cold glint flashed in the Emperor's eyes, and he slammed the telegram onto the conference table: "Good! Garfield, that crippled wolf! He doesn't dare to clash with my heavenly army in Nicaragua, all he knows is bullying the Mexicans!" He abruptly looked up, his gaze falling on the dark face of the Imperial Chief of the General Staff, Zeng Ke. "Duke Zeng Ke! Didn't you say that the Eastern Federation's army was tied down by us and couldn't move? Now the Eastern Federation is going to kick Mexico's door open! Mexico!"

He slammed his hand on the table again: "If Mexico falls into their hands, the Nicaragua Canal will become a small ditch on the doorstep of the Eastern United States! We'll be attacked from both sides!"

The room erupted in uproar! Foreign Secretary Brigham Young exclaimed, "The US East Coast... is going to attack Mexico too? Diaz was chatting and laughing with Gladstone at the London summit!"

“Dias? That old fox who’s sitting on the fence!” Hong Tiangui slammed his hand on the table with a cold laugh, the gold-buttoned scabbard at his waist clanging against his belt. “He was all smiles and laughter in London, pretending to be deaf and dumb in front of us, just waiting to be sold! But the Heavenly Kingdom’s bargains aren’t easy to take! The hearts of the Eastern Federation and the British are even blacker!” He pointed a finger at Zeng Ke’s chest. “How’s the ‘Silver Plan’ coming along?”

Imperial General Zengk O'Hara snapped his riding boots shut, his dark face revealing only his gleaming white teeth: "One hundred thousand heavenly soldiers are stationed in Los Angeles and San Diego! Among them are seventy thousand elite American troops equipped with two hundred Type 33 steam tanks and three hundred artillery pieces of various types. There are also thirty thousand mercenaries from the Divine Kingdom of Japan, all top-tier light infantry, who can serve as the vanguard. In addition, there are over thirty armored cruisers, cruisers, and destroyers anchored in San Pedro Harbor! All awaiting Your Majesty's command!"

It turns out that the American Empire, like the United States of America, was also preparing to invade Mexico!

Now the Mexicans have finally got their chance to become Americans!
Hong Tiangui drew his gold-inlaid command sword from his waist, its blade reflecting the rising sun over the Pacific Ocean outside the window, exuding a chilling aura. "Issue the order!" his roar echoed between the pillars of the hall, "Immediately launch the 'Silver Plan'! Tell those Mexicans they've struck gold! I've approved their membership in the American Empire. From this day forward, they are American citizens!"

"Your Majesty," Finance Minister Huang Shiren clearly hadn't expected Hong Tiangui to want to annex Mexico, "You really want to... annex Mexico?" Hong Tiangui nodded: "Of course! Mexico plus the American Empire will have 80% of the world's silver production. Silver is currency!"

Just as Hong Tiangui was ambitiously building a "Silver Empire" and controlling the issuance of silver currency worldwide, 4,800 miles away, in the oak-paneled chamber of the Texas State Capitol, another iron-willed force was permeating the atmosphere. Through the stained glass of the Baroque-style high windows, sunlight cast several cold beams of light onto a huge map of Mexico spread out on a massive oak table.

Texas Governor John Ireland frowned, fiddling with his elegant velvet tie knot, as he addressed General Sherman, the U.S. Eastern Union Chief of Staff, whose face was as hard as granite: "General, shouldn't the federal government have informed the state legislature before sending troops to the Texas border and mobilizing all state militia? This is, after all, a matter of state sovereignty—"

“State sovereignty?” Sherman’s aged, hoarse voice cut off Ireland’s words. “President Garfield’s order says ‘Commander-in-Chief of the United States Army!’ Governor of Ireland,” he tapped his finger on Mexico City, marked with a prominent five-pointed star on the map, “When the United States faces the threat of the Evil League, the farms of Texas and the sons and daughters of Texas must take up arms!” The old general’s eyes fixed on Ireland like a hawk’s. “The President’s order is here: Texas and its militia are to be mobilized immediately to cooperate with the First Army in executing the ‘Free Mexico Plan’! Block all trade routes to Mexico!”

“But General!” A bead of sweat appeared on Ireland’s forehead. “A sudden blockade of border trade will leave ranchers’ livestock and San Antonio merchants’ cotton and oil rotting in the fields and on their carts! And what about the state legislature—”

"Those problems, you'll have plenty of time to haggle with your congressmen when our tanks reach the square in front of the Presidential Palace in Mexico City!" General MacArthur, commander of the First Army, abruptly stood up from his chair. His imposing height and stern face exuded authority. "But before that, Texas must accomplish three things: First, requisition all available riverboats and railcars to transport our heavy equipment to San Antonio; second, establish surveillance posts along the Rio Grande and kill any unauthorized border crossers! Third—" He pointed to Monterrey, a major city in northern Mexico, on the map, "Within a week, I will establish the first military camp on Mexican soil to guarantee the founding of the Free Mexican Republic!"

“A week?” Standing behind MacArthur, Lieutenant General Patton, the short, stocky commander of the First Armored Corps, suddenly grinned maliciously, slammed his hand on the table, and stood up abruptly, his short, slick black hair bristling. “General MacArthur, a week is too long! My ‘Grey Wolf’ will be rolling across the Rio Grande’s pebble banks tomorrow!” He pointed to the location of Los Angeles on the map. “While that fake emperor is dreaming in San Francisco, my tank tracks will already be rolling into Tijuana!”

A sharp, long train whistle suddenly pierced the afternoon tranquility of Austin. Everyone turned to look, and a long steel train was slowly pulling into the Fort Worth military railway station in the southern suburbs—M2 "Grey Wolf" diesel-powered tanks, like steel behemoths, were anchored to open flatbed carriages, their tracks caked in mud, their 37mm guns pointing diagonally to the sky. Beside them, cavalrymen of the 1st Cavalry Division, in their dark blue uniforms, rode through the yellow dust of Fort Worth's long streets, the heavy, chaotic sound of their hooves striking the ground like thunder rumbling across the earth, spreading southward.

Patton walked to the window, gazing at the rising smoke in the distance, and squeezed out through gritted teeth, "It's time to bring real democracy and freedom to the Mexicans!"

Off the coast of Tijuana, Mexico, the Pacific waves, laden with white foam, repeatedly lapped at the beach. As the sun dipped below the horizon, four landing ships, painted with the distinctive black, red, and yellow stripes of the American Empire, broke through the surging waves, hurtling towards the beach at a top speed of 16 knots. Behind the bow hatch of each landing ship, two hundred American Marines surrounded a steam-powered Type 33 tank, their bayonets gleaming against the sea and sky, like beasts poised to be unleashed.

Far to the south, at the mouth of the Balsas River, the robust 210mm gun barrels of two massive American West Coast "Jingyuan"-class armored cruisers slowly rotated, their dark muzzles finally lowering, pointing towards the sparsely lit fishing port of Losianitos near the river mouth.

As night fell, the wind from the Pacific Ocean whistled through the gaps in the gun barrels.

Mexico, the Americans are coming!

(End of this chapter)