World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Lord Togo," he turned back, his gaze returning to Togo's face, "have you ever seen exiles? Those who, in the truest sense, have lost their homes, wander far from home, and don't know where they'll go tomorrow?"

"I've met them. Many of the anti-shogunate patriots from the Meiji Restoration went into exile overseas."

"Then you should know," Chen Feng's voice was soft, but every word was clearly audible, "that for exiles, the greatest ambition is nothing more than going home. Returning to the place of their birth, returning to the place where their ancestors are buried, returning to the place where their children can play safely."

He paused, then continued:

"The people of Lanfang today, their fathers or grandfathers, fled from Borneo. They remember the rainy season in Pontianak, the scorching sun at the equator, and the smell of the jackfruit tree in front of their homes. These memories have been passed down for three generations. Some details may have become blurred, but the thought of 'wanting to go home' has never changed."

Togo listened quietly. His hands were on his knees, his fingers slightly curled.

"So, to answer your question: Lanfang's goal is to go home. Back to that place on the map, surrounded by turquoise mountains. For this, we need warships, factories, money, friends, and we also need to make the enemy understand—those who stand in our way will pay the price."

Even if the price is war?

"Even if the price is war," Chen Feng said, emphasizing each word, "we will do our best to avoid war. Because war kills people, it could be my soldiers, or it could be our fellow Chinese compatriots in Southeast Asia. We don't want anyone's life, we just want to go home."

Togo fell silent. He looked down at the scraps of paper on the table for a long time. Then he looked up and asked the most direct question of the day:

"So, what should Japan do to change Lanfang's stance?"

The question has finally been raised. It's not about warships, not about technology, but about stances. It's about the grudges that began in the First Sino-Japanese War and lasted for fourteen years.

Chen Feng didn't answer immediately. He stood up and walked to the window. Dubai Port outside was bustling in the morning sun, with cranes swaying like a steel forest, cargo ships coming and going, and further away, the massive hull of the "Guangfu" was anchored in the deep water, like a sleeping behemoth.

"Lord Togo," he said, his voice muffled by the glass without turning around, "are you familiar with Article 4 of the Treaty of Shimonoseki?"

Togo certainly knew. Every high-ranking officer in the Japanese Navy knew. It was the treaty signed on April 17, 1895, at the Shunpanro Pavilion in Shimonoseki, Japan, marking Japan's complete defeat of the Qing Dynasty. Article 4 of the treaty stipulated that China ceded the entire island of Taiwan and all its affiliated islands, as well as the Penghu Islands, to Japan.

"I know," Togo said.

"And what about the fifth one? About the Liaodong Peninsula?"

"Know."

Chen Feng turned around and leaned against the windowsill. The backlighting shrouded his face in shadow, with only his eyes gleaming faintly.

"If Japan is truly sincere, it should first abolish the Treaty of Shimonoseki and return Taiwan, Penghu, Kinmen, and Matsu to China. At that time—" He paused, letting each word settle, "I can personally accompany Your Excellency on a tour of our shipyard and explain every technical detail of the 'Guangfu'. We can even discuss joint research and development, technology sharing, and all possible cooperation."

The words fell.

The only sounds in the meeting room were the ticking of the wall clock and the suppressed breathing of the three people.

Yoshimatsu Shigetaro suddenly stood up, the chair legs scraping against the floor with a screeching sound.

"This is impossible!" he roared in Japanese, his voice trembling with emotion. "Taiwan is land that the Empire won with its blood! Twenty thousand soldiers died there! These conditions are simply—"

"Yoshimatsu-kun!" Togo's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

Yoshimatsu Shigetaro stood frozen in place, his chest heaving violently. He stared at Togo's retreating figure, at the admiral he had respected for twenty years, now facing away from him, his shoulders slightly hunched.

Togo Heihachiro slowly stood up. He stood very straight, but Chen Feng noticed that the old man's right hand was trembling slightly at his side—a nerve tremor caused by holding a knife for a long time, which would appear when his emotions fluctuated.

"Your Excellency the President," Togo's voice was hoarse, "the condition you have proposed exceeds the scope of my authorization. It even exceeds the considerations of the Ministry of the Navy, the Cabinet, and even His Majesty the Emperor."

"I know," Chen Feng said. "So this isn't a condition, it's a stance. Lanfang's stance towards Japan."

"Even if this means Japan will view Lanfang as a potential rival?"

"We already are, aren't we?" Chen Feng walked to the table, picked up the black pottery teapot, and poured himself half a cup of tea. "From the day you decided to annex Korea, from the day you marched into Manchuria, from the day you sent your fleet to the South China Sea, Japan and all the Chinese who want to go home have been adversaries."

He raised his teacup and examined the color of the tea against the light:

"Some opponents use guns, some use treaties, and some use money. But we have chosen the most civilized way—to sit down at the table and talk things out."

Togo Heihachiro looked at the young man before him. Twenty-four years old, his face still retained the sharp features of adolescence, but his eyes already held the gaze of a veteran who had experienced countless wars. He recalled what he was doing at twenty-four. Fresh out of naval academy, he was a probationary officer on the "Hiei," spending his days cleaning the deck, learning navigation, and dreaming of one day commanding his own warship.

This man, at the age of twenty-four, was already the leader of a regime of hundreds of thousands of people, commanding the world's most advanced warships, and was negotiating with the commander-in-chief of the Japanese Combined Fleet to abolish the Treaty of Shimonoseki.

Times have really changed.

"I understand," Togo said finally, his voice regaining its calm. "Then, let's end today's meeting here."

"That's all for now." Chen Feng put down his teacup. "Minister Wang will arrange everyone's return journey. Would you like me to send a boat to Mumbai or Colombo to transfer to a cruise ship?"

"No need. The Nippon Yusen Kaisha's 'Kasuga Maru' is already waiting outside the Strait of Hormuz." Togo straightened his suit jacket collar, a gesture that transformed him back into the dignified admiral. "Before I leave, I have one more personal request."

"Please speak."

"Could I please tour the port area? Just the outer perimeter, not into any sensitive areas. I'd like to... see the city you've built."

Chen Feng thought for three seconds and nodded: "Okay. I'll arrange a guide. But we can only visit the civilian areas."

"That's enough."

Togo bowed slightly, this time at a 30-degree angle—deeper than when he arrived. Then he turned and walked towards the door. Yoshimatsu and Ono immediately followed. Before leaving, Yoshimatsu glared fiercely at Chen Feng, but Chen Feng didn't even look at him.