World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

He walked to his desk, picked up a pen, and pulled out a blank telegram sheet.

"So I'm going to tell them they're wrong."

He began to write, the pen scratching softly on the paper. Everyone held their breath.

The telegram was short, but every word seemed to have been pulled from an icebox:

"To Rear Admiral Little of the Calais Task Force and forwarded to the British and French authorities:"

Every Chinese person on the European battlefield, no matter where they were or what they were doing, was a blood relative or compatriot cared for by the Lanfang Republic.

If any Chinese laborer dies or is injured due to obstruction by any authorities, Lanfang will consider this a provocation against all Chinese and reserves the right to take all necessary measures.

This includes, but is not limited to: full military intervention in the European conflict, severing all economic and trade ties with relevant countries, and taking all other feasible countermeasures.

This is not a negotiation, but an ultimatum. A clear response is required within three hours.

Chen Feng, President of the Lanfang Republic

After finishing writing, Chen Feng signed his name and dated it, then handed it to Chen Wenya: "Send it out with the highest level of security and as quickly as possible. Also copy the British government in London, the French government in Paris, and the North Korean government. I want the whole world to see this telegram at the same time."

"Commander-in-Chief!" Wang Wenwu stood up. "This...this is practically a declaration of war!"

"Then declare war." Chen Feng looked at him. "Minister Wang, tell me, what will happen tomorrow if we back down today?"

Wang Wenwu was speechless.

"Tomorrow, 150,000 compatriots will be sent to the battlefield to die in the soil of Europe. The day after tomorrow, the whole world will know that Lanfang's words 'protect our compatriots' were just empty words. The day after that, we Chinese in Southeast Asia and overseas Chinese will lose our last bit of security—if even our own country doesn't protect us, who will treat us as human beings?"

Chen Feng's voice grew louder and louder: "We've worked hard for ten years to build up a little prestige and dignity. If we back down on this issue today, all our efforts will be in vain!"

Zhou Tieshan also stood up: "I support the President. The army is ready for battle at any time!"

Zhang Zhen nodded: "The navy is in place, and although the air force is not yet fully formed, it can deploy bombers for deterrent strikes."

Liu Qinian and Li Yongguang exchanged a worried look, but neither of them spoke. They knew that saying anything at this point would be useless.

As Chen Wenya was about to leave with the telegram, Chen Feng called her back: "Wait. Send another one, a private telegram to Li Te."

He pulled out another piece of paper and wrote a few words:

"Go for it. I'll hold the sky up if it falls. Remember, you have 400 million Chinese people behind you." (That should be representative.)

Both telegrams were sent. A deathly silence fell over the meeting room.

Outside the window, Dubai basked in bright sunshine, and ships thronged the harbor. But inside the room, everyone felt the shadow of war—not the trench warfare of Europe, but a full-blown conflict that could reshape the world order.

Wang Wenwu broke the silence: "Commander-in-Chief, what if... what if Britain and France really don't concede?"

"Then we'll intervene in the European war," Chen Feng said calmly. "We'll send volunteers, provide weapons, and even... directly attack British colonies in Asia."

"But we're not ready yet..."

"War never comes when you're fully prepared," Chen Feng said, walking to the window. "But fortunately, Britain and France weren't prepared either. They were fighting a bloody war with the Germans on the Western Front, entangled with the Turks on the Eastern Front, and battling German submarines in the Atlantic. Would they dare open another front in the Far East at this time?"

He turned around: "I bet they won't dare."

"But what if..."

"If they dare, then we'll fight." Chen Feng's eyes were unwavering. "It's worth it to exchange a war for the world's recognition of the dignity of the Chinese people."

He looked at everyone: "Gentlemen, I know this decision is risky. It could destroy ten years of development achievements in Lanfang. But I ask you to think about this—why did we build this country? It was to give Chinese people a place where they can stand tall. If we don't even dare to protect our own compatriots today, what is the point of this country's existence?"

No one answered. But everyone's eyes held the same determination.

The clock on the wall ticked. The three-hour countdown to the ultimatum had begun.

London, 11:00 AM (London is four hours behind Dubai and one hour behind France).

The emergency conference room in the Foreign Ministry building was filled with smoke. Six people sat around a long table: Foreign Secretary Edward Gray, Navy Secretary John Jellicoe, Army Secretary Kitchener, Prime Minister Herbert Henry Asquith, Chancellor of the Exchequer Lloyd George, and Ambassador to France Francis Bertie, who had just returned from Paris.

Two telegrams were spread out on the table: one was an urgent report from the garrison at Calais, and the other was Chen Feng's ultimatum.

"Gentlemen," Prime Minister Asquith began, the 63-year-old Liberal leader looking weary, "we've been cornered once again by that Chen Feng."

Kitchener erupted first: "Who does he think he is?! An Asian upstart, daring to issue an ultimatum to the British Empire?! We should sink those two ships immediately and let Lanfang know who the masters of the world are!"

Jellicoe coldly replied, "And then? Then Lanfang declares war on us, their fleet attacks our colonies in the Far East, and all our trade routes in Asia are disrupted. At the same time, the German High Seas Fleet will seize this opportunity to launch a general offensive in the North Sea. Minister of War, do you think we can win both wars simultaneously?"

Kitchener glared at him: "So we're just going to give in? And let the whole world laugh at the British Empire?"

"It's not surrendering, it's reality!" Jellicoe raised his voice. "I've served in the Navy for forty years, and I know where our limits are! Our main fleet is focused on the Germans, the Mediterranean Fleet is dealing with the Turks, and the Indian Ocean Fleet is protecting supply lines. Where do we have the strength to fight Lanfang in the Far East?"

Foreign Secretary Gray rubbed his temples. "Jellicoe is right. More importantly, it's a matter of morality—Chen Feng's telegram has already spread globally. If we insist on detaining the laborers and cause conflict, which side will international public opinion be on?"

Lloyd George—the shrewd Welshman and future Prime Minister—patted the table: “Let me analyze this from an economic perspective. Lanfang is now an important supplier of rubber, tin, and oil to us. If trade is cut off, our military production will be affected. Moreover, their share of Asian financial markets is growing, and if there are comprehensive sanctions, London's banking sector will also be impacted.”

He paused for a moment: "On the other hand, what would be the loss if we released them? 150,000 laborers would indeed affect logistics on the western front, but we could replenish them from India and Africa. Moreover, we could demand compensation from the North Korean government—or, have Lanfang compensate us."