The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 999 It's better to suffer a long, drawn-out pain than a short, sharp one!
February 22, 1887, Wu Wang Mansion in Tianjing.

The light from the bamboo-fiber electric lamp cast flickering shadows on the telegram in Luo Yaoguo's hand. The pattering spring rain outside the window couldn't drown out the thunderous words at the end of the telegram: "German troops have taken control of the entire territory of Norway, and Sweden's surrender is imminent."

Luo Yaoguo gently placed the telegram on his desk. He slowly raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the huge world map hanging on the wall—Norway's location was heavily circled in red—he had long known that Norway might be invaded by Germany. But the "German" he knew that invaded Norway was the "Third German," while the current "German" was still the "Second German"!

And this "Erdezi" is frighteningly strong.
"Dang Dang!"

The brass bell rang loudly. When the adjutant Wu Peifu pushed open the door, he saw Luo Yaoguo's finger tracing the coastline of Norway on the globe, finally landing on the Denmark Strait in the north—the vital passage from the Atlantic Ocean to Murmansk, and the last major artery connecting Tsarist Russia, this giant with feet of clay!

Russia will inevitably collapse if Germany cuts off its supply lines!

"Summon Wing King, Gan King, Li Xiucheng, Zhu Ba, Chen Yucheng, Wang Yan, and Wu Tingfang—" Luo Yaoguo said in a deep voice, "To the Prince's Palace meeting hall within half an hour!"

Inside the conference hall, a dozen bright electric lights illuminated the four walls. The pointer of Wang Yan, the Minister of the Navy, struck the Norwegian coastline with a dull thud.

"The Germans taking Trondheim is tantamount to strangling Russia!" Wang Yan's voice was low and cold. "With the White Sea route cut off, the Tsar will not last more than six months!"

Luo Yaoguo added, "Fortunately, the British sent a supply to Tsarist Russia via the Baltic Sea."

Minister of War Li Xiucheng shook his head: "At most, we can hold on for another six months, and then it will all be over! If the Tsar falls, how many more days can the Red Army hold on? By then, all of Europe will belong to Germany!"

Prince Gan Hong Rengan sipped his tea, his brow slightly furrowed: "What threat does European unification pose to the Celestial Empire? We are separated by thousands of miles of ocean."

"Has His Highness forgotten the Opium War?" Chief of the General Staff Zhu Ba suddenly spoke. This prized student of Luo Yaoguo stood up, walked to the map, and tapped India heavily with his finger. "Britain was able to dominate for a century by relying on India's resources, with its powerful ships and cannons reaching right to the heart of China. If Germany were to integrate the industry, population, and resources of all of Europe..." His pointer slowly slid towards the Americas and the Pacific, "Who will be the next target?"

Hong Rengan's expression changed drastically: "Then, what should we do? Europe is so far away."

Luo Yaoguo slowly rose and walked towards the world map. His finger pointed to Rome, and his voice was utterly calm: "The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom will be the arbitrator of Europe."

“Three things: First, the Rome Peace Conference must be held; second, we are not belligerent nations, and our position is impartial; third—” he turned abruptly, a smile spreading across his face, “we cannot let them fight without restraint!”

Foreign Ministry Vice Minister Wu Tingfang frowned: "We can't let them fight freely."

"A short, sharp pain is worse than a long, drawn-out one!" A cold glint flashed in Luo Yaoguo's eyes. "A short, sharp pain, a year or two of heavy fighting, and Europe might really be unified! But a long, drawn-out pain..."

Shi Dakai stroked his gray beard: "King of Wu, how do you intend to inflict prolonged pain on the Europeans?"

"First, force them to cease hostilities for ninety days! During this period, restore freedom of trade and navigation—if any side dares to intercept merchant ships, the Celestial Empire's navy will use its naval guns to reason with them!"

March 1, Sistine Chapel, Vatican City.

Beside the long, cross-shaped table under the painted dome, the arguing among representatives from various countries nearly lifted the roof off.

"Germany must withdraw from Norway immediately!" British Foreign Secretary Salisbury slammed his fist on the table, his voice so loud it made the crystal chandelier sway slightly.

"Wait until your country's army gets out of India and the Ottoman Empire's territory!" German representative Bismarck retorted, his fingers tapping the table like machine gun fire.

Russian representative Giles suddenly stood up, his eyes red-rimmed: "The Germans are starving Russia! Our children can't even get black bread!"

French representative Karl Moore stroked his white beard and sneered: "All wars of aggression should cease immediately, and the sovereignty of all nations should be respected!"

U.S. Secretary of State Bayard declared: "The territorial integrity and sovereignty of all nations are sacred and inviolable!"

"Quiet!"

Pope Leo XIV, clad in white robes and a golden crown, struck his scepter. The church fell silent instantly, all eyes fixed on the altar. The Pope slowly unrolled a parchment scroll, his voice as compassionate as a hymn: "Children, look out the window at spring." His aged finger pointed to the stained-glass window, sunlight streaming through the glass and bathing his white robe in a sacred golden light. "Must we let flowers bloom on graves? Must we let mothers' tears water the seeds of hatred?"

He descended the steps, his steps faltering, as if bearing the weight of all humanity's suffering: "War has devoured too many lives, too much blood has been shed on the land of Europe." He stopped before the Russian representative, Giles, and gently patted his shoulder. "Russian mothers are weeping, German youths are freezing in the trenches, and British wives are praying night after night for their husbands' return."

The Pope's voice choked with emotion, and cloudy tears streamed down his face: "God's people, must we allow this massacre to continue?"

The church was silent. Even the most arrogant Salisbury lowered his head, thinking to himself, "How can this old man, who spent millions of silver dollars provided by his illegitimate daughter's (Maria Clementina's) husband to bribe his way into the position of Pope, be so good at putting on an act!"

Suddenly, a cold laugh broke the silence.

"His Holiness the Pope is compassionate and moving." Wu Chaoyue, Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, stood up and announced in a language that most people in the room could not understand: "The Heavenly Kingdom has no territorial claims in Europe! Nor does it have any special privileges. However, with peace just beginning to be achieved in the Pacific, how can we allow the flames of war to spread? The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom government proposes a 90-day ceasefire in Europe!"

"90 days?" Moore, who understood Chinese, was the first to react. "Why not permanent?" "Mr. Moore," Wu Chaoyue said, "90 days is enough to reach a permanent peace treaty. And within these 90 days, all trade routes around the world will be restored by the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's navy, guaranteeing free trade for merchant ships!"

Bismarck Jr. scoffed: "Does your country's warships intend to sail into the North Sea?"

Wu Chaoyue glanced back at British Foreign Secretary Salisbury: "The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's battleships will not only sail into the North Sea, but also into the English Channel and the Thames!"

Salisbury's face turned ashen—it was less than 50 years since the Opium War! Were Chinese battleships about to come knocking on Britain's gates?

After the meeting, delegates from various countries left the church in twos and threes. Salisbury and Bismarck "bumped into" each other at a corner of the corridor.

"A ninety-day ceasefire?" Salisbury sneered. "Does your country intend to use this time to digest Norway?"

"Doesn't your country also want to take this opportunity to arm Russia?" Bismarck retorted. "Unfortunately, the Tsar's army is rotten to the core."

“At least we can catch our breath,” Salisbury said in a low voice. “Indian cotton, Swedish iron ore. The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom is clearly supporting us.”

Bismarck Jr. squinted: "Germany also needs saltpeter and oil. And the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom and we have an alliance treaty!"

The two exchanged a glance and gave each other a knowing, bitter smile.

March 5, Cabinet meeting room at 10 Downing Street.

Prime Minister Gladstone took off his reading glasses and rubbed his sore eyes. The rain and fog outside the window blurred the glass once again, making it difficult for the old man to see the road ahead.

"What do you all think of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's proposal?" He looked around at the cabinet members on both sides of the long table.

Lord Admiral George Hamilton was the first to speak: "A ninety-day armistice is in our favor! Supplies from India and the Americas can be safely delivered to Britain, and Russia can also be resupplyed."

Army Secretary Henry Campbell-Bannervin frowned: "But the Germans will also take the opportunity to strengthen Norway's defenses."

“Let them consolidate!” Chancellor of the Exchequer William Harcourt sneered. “We can take this opportunity to arm Russia. The Tsar’s army may be rotten, but as long as it can hold off the Germans, it will be a victory.”

Gladstone nodded slowly: "The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's move, seemingly fair, was actually insidious. They wanted Europe to continue to bleed."

“But we have no choice,” Foreign Secretary Salisbury sighed. “Our factories need raw materials, and Russia needs food. Ninety days of respite is better than an immediate collapse.”

Gladstone looked out the window; the Tower of London was faintly visible through the rain and mist.

“Then accept the ceasefire,” he finally decided. “But tell the Russians—these ninety days are their last chance.”

March 6, Imperial Conference Room, Berlin Palace.

Emperor Wilhelm sat on his gilded throne, his aged fingers stroking his scepter. Bismarck stood beside him, his iron-grey eyes sweeping over the assembled generals.

"What does Your Majesty think of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's ceasefire proposal?" Field Marshal Moltke spoke first.

"Ninety days?" Emperor William sneered. "That's enough time for us to digest Norway."

“Not only that,” Bismarck added, “we can take this opportunity to import saltpeter and oil to prepare for the next phase of the war.”

Navy Minister Leo von Kaprivi frowned: "But the British will also arm Russia."

"Arm them!" Moltke waved his hand dismissively. "The Russian army is rotten to the core; no amount of weapons can save them."

Wilhelm I looked at Bismarck: "What do you think?"

Bismarck smiled slightly: "Accept the ceasefire. The longer the war in Europe drags on, the more advantageous it is for Germany. We are the ones with the real advantage!" He paused, "What we can't afford to drag on now is actually the Russian Empire. This country is heading towards collapse every day. A short-term ceasefire will not only not alleviate the trend of collapse, but will accelerate its demise!"

Because the brief ceasefire gave some Russian nobles the opportunity to jump ship and escape!
This time, Luo Yaoguo miscalculated!

The emperor nodded slowly: "Then it's settled."

(End of this chapter)