World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"It's reality!" Jellicoe raised his voice. "Study, you've commanded a fleet before, you know our current situation. We have to blockade Germany, protect supply lines, support France, and also guard against Turkey and Austria-Hungary. The navy's strength is already at its limit; we don't have the resources to fight an unnecessary war in the Far East."

He walked back to the nautical chart and tapped the Lanfang fleet's route with his finger: "Let them go. To Germany, to deliver goods. To France, to pick up people. And then? They'll come back. A return journey of twelve thousand nautical miles, with tens of thousands of laborers, slower speed, bigger target."

A cold glint flashed in his eyes: "By then, the war may have taken a turn for the better. Or... we can use other methods to make Chen Feng pay the price for his arrogance today."

Major General Hall understood: "You mean, settling scores later?"

"Yes," Jellicoe nodded. "We're holding back now so we can settle the score later. We need to record every move of the Lanfang fleet and gather all the intelligence. Once we've dealt with Germany..."

He didn't finish speaking, but everyone understood.

"And what about France?" Study asked. "Did Lanfang really take the laborers from Calais?"

"That's the French problem," Jellicoe said. "But I'll privately remind the French Navy that if Lanfang takes all 150,000 laborers away, the logistics on the Western Front will collapse. They should be more worried than we are."

He sat down and began drafting orders: "Send a telegram to the Malacca Squadron: Continue surveillance, maintain distance, and avoid provocation. Send a telegram to the Indian Ocean Fleet and the Mediterranean Fleet: The Lanfang convoy has the right of passage and must not be intercepted, but must be closely monitored and all movements reported. Send a copy to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to inform them of the Navy's decision."

The staff quickly took notes. Once the telegram was sent, the entire command chain of the Royal Navy would be activated.

Jellicoe finished writing the last stroke, put down his pen, and rubbed his temples. He felt an unprecedented exhaustion—not physical, but mental. As First Lord of the Admiralty, he had to make these cold, ruthless decisions that jeopardized the dignity of the Empire.

But this is the responsibility of a leader. Between ideals and reality, between dignity and survival, choose the latter.

"There's one more thing," Major General Hall suddenly said. "According to intelligence, Lanfang has four more battleships of the same class under construction in the country. If we show weakness this time, they might escalate their actions."

"Let them build," Jellicoe said. "Shipbuilding costs money, and maintaining ships costs even more. When the war ends, Europe will need a lot of money to rebuild. If Lanfang continues to invest its resources in military equipment, its economy will collapse sooner or later. At that time..."

He looked again at the Far East region on the nautical chart, his expression complex.

"Then we'll see whether Chen Feng is a genius or a madman."

May 25, northern end of the Suez Canal, sea off Port Said.

Under the blazing sun, the sea reflected a blinding white light. The fleet had been anchored here for twelve hours, awaiting permission to pass through the canal.

Li Te stood on the bridge of the "Huaihe" ship, his shirt soaked with sweat. The temperature in the Red Sea was as high as forty degrees Celsius, and the deck was hot enough to fry an egg. What was even more anxiety-inducing was the wait—the Suez Canal was controlled by Britain, and if the British deliberately delayed, they could be stuck here for several days.

"Captain, the port authority has sent another notification," the communications officer said, wiping his sweat. "It says the channel is busy and we need to continue waiting."

"How many times has this happened?" Li Te asked.

"The third time. The reply is always the same."

Chen Shaoming walked over and lowered his voice: "The British are doing this on purpose. They're wasting our time and patience."

Li Te nodded. He had expected this. The British dared not intercept them directly, so they resorted to this bureaucratic delaying tactic. Every day of delay meant a day's supply depletion for the fleet, and a day's greater danger for the laborers in France.

"Signal the port authority," Litt said, "informing them that we have a diplomatic emergency and request priority passage. At the same time, copy the British Governor's Office in Egypt and the Mediterranean Fleet Command."

Will they even listen?

"No, but we need to keep a record," Litt said, "to prove that we made the request and that the British were deliberately making things difficult for us."

As expected, the signal disappeared without a trace after it was sent out.

Time ticked by. At 2 PM, the temperature reached its peak. The sailors on deck took turns on duty, each only able to stand guard for half an hour before coming down to rehydrate, otherwise they would suffer from heatstroke.

"Captain, look." Chen Shaoming suddenly pointed in the direction of the port.

A small motorboat was approaching the "Huaihe". The Royal Navy flag was flying on the motorboat.

"Prepare to receive visitors." Li Te straightened his military uniform.

The motorboat docked via the gangway, and three British men boarded. The leader was a colonel around fifty years old, tall and thin, with tanned skin—a typical colonial officer.

"I am Captain Phillips, the liaison officer for the Royal Navy's Mediterranean Fleet," he introduced himself, his tone fairly polite. "I have been ordered to confirm the purpose of your fleet's voyage and the nature of your cargo."

Li Te shook hands with him: "Rear Admiral Li Te, Commander of the Lanfang Naval Task Force. Our voyage purpose and cargo manifest have been reported to your government through diplomatic channels."

"Yes, but we still need to confirm on-site," Phillips said. "After all, wartime circumstances are special. Could you allow us to inspect the merchant ship's cargo holds?"

"They're here," Li Te thought. "The British are going to play the boarding and inspection trick."

"I'm sorry, Colonel," Litt said calmly, "our vessels enjoy diplomatic immunity and are not permitted to be boarded or inspected. However, I can show you the official documents for the cargo."

He gestured for Chen Shaoming to bring over a folder. Inside was a bilingual (German and Chinese) list of goods: artillery parts, shells, optical instruments, medical supplies... all legally traded goods with Germany under international regulations.

Phillips quickly glanced through the documents, his expression unchanged: "The documents are complete. But as you know, documents can be forged. To be on the safe side, we still hope to see them in person."

"I said, no." Li Te's tone hardened. "Colonel, we're only five nautical miles from the canal entrance. My main guns have a range of 35,000 meters. Do you think we would be subject to inspection here if we truly had ulterior motives?"

This was a blatant threat. Phillips's expression changed.

"Major Admiral, are you threatening the Royal Navy?"

"I am stating the facts," Litt said. "My mission is to deliver the goods to Germany and then bring my compatriots back from France. Any action that obstructs this mission will be considered a hostile act against Lanfang."