World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Reply: Received," Litt said. "Then tell the merchant convoy behind to maintain formation and ignore the British."

After the signal was given, the three British cruisers split into two groups, two sailing side-by-side on the port side and one on the starboard side, with the two destroyers following behind. They formed a kind of escort, but maintained a cautious distance.

"Captain, are they coming with us?" Chen Shaoming asked.

"They'll follow us at least to the Indian Ocean," Litt said. "They won't change hands until we leave Britain's traditional sphere of influence."

He walked to the chart table and drew a line with his finger: "From Malacca to the Gulf of Aden, it's a full three thousand nautical miles. We'll be sailing these three thousand nautical miles under the 'escort' of the British."

"The pressure will be immense," Chen Shaoming said. "The brothers might be nervous."

"So keep them busy," Li Te said. "Arrange training, damage control drills. The busier they are, the less time they'll have to be tense."

He glanced at the lights of the British warships outside the porthole: "Moreover, this is also an opportunity for us—to show the British what level Lanfang's navy is at."

Night fell. The fleet continued its westward journey. Moonlight shimmered on the sea. The column of two giant ships and six merchant vessels, escorted by three British cruisers, resembled a silent dragon sailing towards the unknown west.

On the bridge of the "Huaihe" ship, Li Te didn't sleep all night. He stood in front of the chart table, repeatedly rehearsing various possible scenarios, calculating the voyage, and assessing the risks.

At three in the morning, he went to the open platform outside the bridge and lit a cigarette. The sea breeze carried a salty, fishy smell. In the distance, the lights of the British cruiser seemed like malevolent eyes, watching them in the darkness.

He took out his pocket watch and opened the cover. By the moonlight, he could see the inscription: Time will prove where justice lies.

"Our ancestors in Lanfang," Li Te said softly, seemingly speaking to no one in particular, "if you are watching over us from heaven, please bless us. Bless us so that we can bring our compatriots home."

He closed the watch case and put the pocket watch back in his breast pocket. There, close to his heart.

At the same time, in London, at the Admiralty building.

The time was 2 p.m. on May 10th—London is seven hours behind Malacca due to the time difference. But the atmosphere was just as tense in the naval operations room.

A large nautical chart on the wall marks the deployment of British naval forces worldwide. Red pins represent the main fleet, blue represents cruiser squadrons, and green represents submarines. In the far east of the map, three blue pins are moving along the Strait of Malacca, with the following marking in pencil: "Task Force Lanfang, including 2 battleships and 6 submarines."

First Lord of the Navy Admiral John Jellicoe stood before the nautical chart, holding a newly received telegram. He was fifty-six years old, his hair already gray, but his posture remained upright, and his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's.

There were four other people in the room: First Sea Lord Vice Admiral Frederick Study, Director of Naval Intelligence Rear Admiral William Reginald Hall, and two senior staff officers who had just been transferred back from the Far East.

"Everyone has seen the Malacca Squadron's report," Jellicoe began, his voice steady but weary. "Two Bismarck-class battleships from Lanfang, escorting six merchant ships, are passing through the strait. Our three Carlisle-class cruisers attempted to intercept and inspect them, but they refused to stop and... used their main guns to intimidate us."

Lieutenant General Study—a burly Scotsman with a thick beard—scoffed, "Deterrence? Do you think they'll dare open fire?"

"Based on the assessment of the on-site commander," Jellicoe glanced at the telegram, "they dared. The report specifically mentioned that the Lanfang's main guns were pointed at our ships the entire time, with the gun elevation adjusted to a position where they could fire immediately. Moreover, the enemy commander's reply was very firm, clearly stating that they would not accept any inspection."

Major General Hall—the intelligence chief, known for his shrewdness and cunning—adjusted his glasses: "This is in line with Chen Feng's character. The same tone he used when he spoke to Major General Gerald in Dubai: polite on the surface, but tough in reality, with clear bottom lines."

An officer who had returned from the Far East spoke up: "Admiral, I spent three years in Singapore and studied the Lanfang Navy. Their training level is very high, and most of their commanders were trained by Li Te and Zhang Zhen, so their tactical thinking is advanced. Moreover, these two Bismarck-class battleships are brand new, and their performance data far exceeds that of our existing battleships."

"So what's your suggestion?" Jericho looked at him.

"A direct confrontation is not recommended," the staff officer stated bluntly. "The Carlisle-class facing the Bismarck-class is like a hound facing a rhinoceros. Our 152mm guns cannot penetrate the enemy's main armor, but their 380mm guns can blow us to pieces from 15,000 meters away."

Stuart said discontentedly, "Are we just going to let them pass like that? The whole world is watching! The British Navy has been scared off by the fleet of an Asian country?"

“It’s not about intimidation, it’s a strategic choice.” Jellicoe turned and pointed to the nautical chart of the European part of the voyage. “Gentlemen, our core threat is here—the German High Seas Fleet. Hipper’s fleet left port again yesterday, and its movements are unclear. Jellicoe’s fleet must remain in Scapa Flow, ready to engage at any time.”

He paused, then continued, "At this critical juncture, it would be irresponsible to divert capital ships to the Far East to deal with Lanfang. If our division of forces leads to the defeat of the home fleet in the decisive battle, the price will be the survival of the entire British Empire."

The room fell silent. Everyone understood the principle, but found it emotionally difficult to accept.

"But General," another staff officer said cautiously, "what will international opinion think if we just let them pass? What will the French and Russians think? They'll think Britain can't even handle a newly emerging Asian country."

"Let them think what they want," Jericho said coldly. "Is saving face more important, or survival?"

He walked to the window and looked at the view of Whitehall Street outside: "Moreover, the Lanfang fleet's purpose is very clear—to deliver goods to Germany first, and then to pick up laborers in France. This was publicly announced by Chen Feng in Dubai. If we intercept them now, it would be tantamount to confirming the crime of 'preventing Lanfang from saving its compatriots.' This is morally untenable."

Major General Hall seemed thoughtful: "You mean, not only should we not intercept them, but we should... cooperate?"

"It's not about cooperation, it's about avoiding conflict," Jellicoe corrected. "Let the Malacca detachment continue its 'accompanying surveillance,' but maintain a safe distance. Inform all bases and fleets along the route: the Lanfang fleet has the right of passage, and as long as they do not provoke us, we are not allowed to fire."

Study's face darkened: "This is an absolute disgrace!"