World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

At the same time, in the Presidential Office's Strategy Room.

Chen Feng stood before a huge map of East Asia, holding a red pencil. The map was already covered with dense symbols: Lanfang's controlled area was red, the British sphere of influence was blue, Japan was white, Germany was black, France was purple, and the United States was green.

Wang Wenwu and Zhou Tieshan stood behind him.

"Gerrard is gone?" Chen Feng asked.

"He left, and he looked very angry," Wang Wenwu said.

"It's good that he's angry." Chen Feng drew a circle on the Japanese archipelago with a pencil. "The angrier he gets, the more effective our strategy will be. An emotional opponent is easier to deal with than a calm one."

Zhou Tieshan asked, "President, are you really planning to do business with the British as well? How will you explain this to Germany?"

"No need to explain." Chen Feng turned around. "I already said, we're businessmen. How can businessmen only do business with one client? That's too dangerous."

He walked to his desk, where several documents were spread out: "Take a look at these. The British Admiralty, through a Singaporean agent, has inquired whether we can provide design blueprints for high-speed torpedo boats. The French Ministry of Munitions has sent people to our steel mills, wanting to buy special armor steel. Even the Americans have come, asking if we'll sell them diesel engine technology."

Wang Wenwu exclaimed in surprise, "I didn't know any of this!"

"Because we haven't reached the stage of formal contact yet," Chen Feng said, "but probing has already begun. The war in Europe has been going on for a year and a half, and all countries are depleting their inventories and their industrial capacity is nearing its limit. They urgently need external support."

He sat down, crossing his hands under his chin: "This is our opportunity. No, it's more than just an opportunity; it's our national strategy."

"What strategy?" Zhou Tieshan asked.

"A two-way supply strategy." Chen Feng's eyes gleamed. "We simultaneously provide both sides with the supplies, technology, and even... manpower they desperately need. Germany is short of troops, so we send Japanese soldiers there. Britain is short of resources, so we can sell them to them. As long as the price is right, we'll sell anything."

Wang Wenwu was somewhat worried: "But this is walking a tightrope. What if both sides discover that we're making money on both ends..."

"Then let them find out," Chen Feng interrupted him. "So what if they find out? Do they dare offend their only supplier at the same time? Europe is like two people who have lost too much blood, and we have blood bags. They can refuse to receive blood transfusions, but then they can only wait to die."

He stood up and paced to the window: "The more brutal the war, the more secure our position will be. When they are exhausted, we will be the ones who can decide which way the scales tip."

Zhou Tieshan took a deep breath: "Commander-in-Chief, this plan... is too crazy."

"Crazy?" Chen Feng laughed. "No, this is the most rational choice. Why do you think I'm developing the navy at all costs? Why am I desperately building up industry? It's all so that I can be qualified to sit at this poker table."

He walked back to the map and tapped the location of Europe with his finger: "Now, the game has begun. Germany is our first big customer, but not the last. The British are furious today, but soon reality will make them bow their heads. Because anger can't be used as ammunition, nor can it feed you."

The phone rang. Wang Wenwu answered it, listened for a few words, and his expression changed.

"President, Minister Liu of the Ministry of Industry has issued an urgent report. The 'Kunpeng' prototype aircraft at the Manhattan base crashed during its test flight today, and the pilot... has been killed in action."

The room fell silent instantly.

Chen Feng closed his eyes, then opened them a few seconds later: "Notify the family of the highest level of compensation. Tell Liu Qinian to find the cause, improve the design, and continue test flights. The Air Force's plans cannot be halted."

"Yes."

Zhou Tieshan said in a low voice, "The price will be very high."

"Every step forward comes at a price." Chen Feng's voice was calm. "The lives of pilots are the price. Every step we take on this dangerous path comes at a cost. But if we don't take this path, the cost will be even greater—we will always be trampled underfoot and forever at the mercy of others."

He walked to the wine cabinet, poured three glasses of wine, and handed them to Wang Wenwu and Zhou Tieshan.

"A toast to the 'Kunpeng' that crashed today, a toast to all those who paid the price for this country." He raised his glass. "And a toast to ourselves, because we chose the most difficult path." (No tribute to the soldiers who died in Japan.)

The three of them drank it all in one gulp.

The wine was bitter, but after drinking it, a fire ignited in my chest.

"Alright, let's get down to business." Chen Feng put down his wine glass. "Issue a formal order to the Ministry of Industry: the 'Harvest Plan' enters its second phase. I want to fully digest the technology Germany provided within a year and make it our own. The optics plant, the special steel plant, and the engine plant will all expand production."

"What about the funds?" Wang Wenwu asked.

"With money paid by the Germans," Chen Feng said. "They pay for our weapons, we use that money to develop our industry, then build better weapons, and sell them back to them. A perfect cycle."

Zhou Tieshan laughed: "Commander-in-Chief, you really are..."

"Is he really a shrewd businessman?" Chen Feng laughed. "Maybe. But in this world, good people often don't live long. I want Chinese people to survive, to live better, to live in a way that no one dares to look down on. For that, I don't mind being a shrewd businessman."

He looked out the window; night had fallen, but Dubai's lights were still bright. The city's rise was a microcosm of the country—creating miracles in the desert and forging a path to survival in dire circumstances.

"Minister Wang, starting tomorrow, you will proactively reach out to the British Governor-General of Singapore. Hint to them that we are willing to discuss certain 'commercial collaborations.' But remember, maintain a high profile; we are giving them an opportunity, not begging them."

"Minister Zhou, the navy will continue to intensify training. I want all four new ships to be launched within twelve months. If you don't have enough money, just tell me, and I'll earn it."

The two men stood at attention simultaneously: "Yes, sir!"

Chen Feng waved for them to leave. When he was alone, he went to the balcony and lit a cigarette.

The night breeze was cool, dispelling the daytime heat. In the distance, on the sea, the lights of merchant ships moved—those were Lanfang's ships, carrying goods, hope, and also blood and death, sailing to every corner of the world.

He remembered Gerald's angry eyes, Saionji Kinmochi's tired face, and Wilhelm II's excited smile.

Everyone plays their part in this grand game. Some are pawns, some are players, and Lanfang... is meant to be the one who sets the rules.

The cigarette burned to the very end, scalding his fingers. Chen Feng tossed the cigarette butt into the sea, watching the tiny red glow trace an arc in the darkness before extinguishing.

Back in his office, he opened his diary and wrote down today's entry:

"January 14, 1916. The British came to protest, but returned empty-handed. They were angry, but powerless. This is the power of discourse that comes with strength."

"Gerald is a typical old imperial soldier; he can't understand our logic. In his world, there are only friends and enemies between nations. But in my world, there are only customers and potential customers."