World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Lanfang compensation?" Kitchener frowned. "How?"

"For example, they could pay workers' penalties," Lloyd George said. "Or, they could make concessions in other areas—lower the prices of our exports, open more markets, and so on."

Ambassador Bertie spoke, his voice soft, but everyone listened intently: "Before I came from Paris, I spoke with French Prime Minister Briand. France's attitude... is contradictory."

"How so?" Gray asked.

"On the one hand, France did need laborers. The Battle of Verdun lasted four months, and we lost 300,000 men, with our logistics system on the verge of collapse. On the other hand, the French were also well aware that if they fell out with Lanfang, their colonies in Asia (Indochina) would be the first to be threatened."

Bertie took a sip of water: "Brian's exact words were: 'We cannot risk losing the entire Indochina for the sake of 150,000 Chinese laborers.'"

The meeting room fell silent. Indochina—Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia—was France's most important colony in Asia, rich in rubber, rice, and minerals.

Prime Minister Asquith looked at Gray: "Edward, you've dealt with Chen Feng before. Do you think he's serious? Does he really dare to go to war with us for these laborers?"

Gray remained silent for a long time. He recalled his meeting with Chen Feng in Dubai, and the calm yet resolute gaze of that Chinese leader.

"Prime Minister," he finally said, "this man, Chen Feng, cannot be judged by conventional standards. He is not like a traditional politician, with so many concerns and considerations. He is more like... a businessman, but one who treats the entire country as a business."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that he calculates the costs and benefits of everything he does," Gray said. "In today's matter, he wasn't calculating military victory or diplomatic gains or losses, but rather the longer-term impact—the hearts and minds of the Chinese people."

He stood up and walked to the window: "We ruled Asia for a hundred years, what did we rely on? Not benevolence, but strength and division. We made the Chinese fight amongst themselves, made them feel inferior, and made them think that white people were a superior race. But now, Chen Feng is breaking this pattern. He wants to show all Chinese people with his actions: there is a country that will protect you, even if it means going against the world."

"So this labor incident," Gray turned around, "is not about 150,000 lives for Chen Feng; it's a symbol, a declaration. If he succeeds, his prestige in the Chinese world will reach its peak. If he fails, Lanfang's legitimacy will be shaken."

Jericho understood: "So for him, this is a battle he cannot afford to lose."

“Yes.” Gray nodded. “So his ultimatum wasn’t a bluff. If we don’t back down, he really will go to war. And he’s calculated that we won’t dare to fight—because our main enemy is in Europe.”

Kitchener was still unwilling to give up: "So we're just going to leave it at that? What about the dignity of the Empire?"

"Dignity?" Prime Minister Asquith gave a bitter smile. "Kitchina, do you know how many men died on the Western Front yesterday? Eight thousand. Eight thousand young men, never to return home. Compared to their lives, what is the Empire's dignity worth?"

He stood up and looked around at everyone: "Vote. Raise your hand if you agree to let the workers go."

Jericho was the first to raise his hand. Then came Gray, Lloyd George, and Bertie.

Four votes in favor.

Kitchener didn't raise his hand. But he didn't object either, just kept a sullen face.

Asquith raised his hand: "Five votes in favor, one abstention. Passed."

He sat down and began writing orders: "Telegram to the Calais garrison: Chinese laborers are permitted to leave voluntarily, and no obstruction is allowed. Telegram to Chen Feng: The British government respects humanitarian principles and agrees to the laborers' voluntary departure. However, it requires the Lanfang government to promise not to interfere in legitimate contracts between Britain and other countries in a similar manner."

Gray added, "One more point: we hope to hold further consultations with Lanfang regarding this incident in order to reach a mutually acceptable solution."

"Okay." Asquith finished writing, signed his name, and said, "Send a copy to Paris and see what the French say."

The order was issued. No one left the meeting room; they were waiting—waiting for Calais's response, for France's reaction, and for how this crisis would ultimately end.

Outside the window, a light rain began to fall in London. Raindrops pattered against the glass, blurring the world outside.

In the heart of this British empire, a group of old men made a humiliating decision. But they knew it was the only rational choice.

In this era, rationality often means humiliation.

But it's better than destruction.

Paris, the Army Ministry building.

At 1 p.m. (Paris and London are in the same time zone), French Prime Minister Briand, Army Commander-in-Chief Marshal Joffre, Navy Minister Lacazette, and Colonial Minister Doumegue sat around a small round table.

Two telegrams were spread out on the table: Chen Feng's ultimatum and a report that had just been sent from London.

Marshal Joffre—the 64-year-old veteran and commander-in-chief of the Battle of Verdun—was the first to speak, his voice hoarse and weary: "If all 150,000 laborers are evacuated, our logistics system will collapse within three months. Ammunition supplies at Verdun are already strained; if we don't even have people to build fortifications and transport supplies…"

He didn't finish speaking, but his meaning was clear.

Admiral Lacázs remained calm: "But what if Lanfang really joins the war if we don't release them? Their two battleships are in Calais, and their main guns can cover the entire port. If they open fire, Calais will be destroyed—it's our most important supply hub to Britain."

Colonial Minister Dumeg was more concerned about Asia: "My subordinates in Indochina reported that Lanfang has increased its troops in Borneo. Although not many, it is clearly a demonstration. If we fall out with Lanfang, their fleet in Borneo can reach Saigon in just three days."

Prime Minister Brian rubbed his temples. The 54-year-old politician, who had just taken office last November, was already facing the Verdun meat grinder, and now he had the Asian crisis to boot.

"The British have made their decision," he said. "They've chosen to release him. If we insist on not releasing him, we'll have to face Lanfang's threats alone."

Joffre became agitated: "Then let the British defend Verdun! They're fighting on our land, and now they're unwilling to even send a few laborers?"

"Marshal, calm down," Brian said. "The British have also paid a heavy price. And they are right—our colonies in Asia are indeed in danger if we go to war with Lanfang."

He looked at Dumeg: "Can Indochina be held?"

Dumeg smiled wryly: "We can't hold out. Our naval power in Asia is practically zero; all our ships have been redeployed to Europe. Lanfang has two of the newest battleships there, two Hood-class battlecruisers, and we don't know how many cruisers and destroyers they have. But they can defeat the Japanese navy; they're more than capable of dealing with us."

"What if Britain helps?"

"Britain?" Dumeg shook his head. "Their own Far East fleet has to keep an eye on Lanfang, and also protect India, Australia, and New Zealand. They can't possibly help us defend Indochina with all their might. Besides, even if they did help, what could they possibly do!"

The room fell silent. Only Xiafei's heavy breathing could be heard.