World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"You know very well," Sir Grey interjected, his tone sharp. "Then do you also know that these 'mercenaries' have caused at least 15,000 casualties among British and Imperial soldiers in the past month? Including 3,000 Australians, 2,000 Canadians, 1,000 New Zealanders, and... 9,000 lads from England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland?"

Chen Feng picked up a napkin and gently wiped the corner of his mouth. The movement was slow, with a deliberate calmness.

"Sir Grey, I express my condolences to all those who have lost their lives in the war." His voice was calm. "But allow me to point out a fact: war itself causes casualties. Regardless of who the enemy is, what uniforms they wear, or what country they come from."

"This isn't war, it's betrayal!" the Admiral roared, unable to contain himself. "Japan is an ally of Britain! They signed an alliance treaty in 1902, and in 1905 we supported them in defeating Russia! Now they turn around and lease their troops to the Germans to kill our soldiers! What is this?"

Chen Feng looked at the old general with a face full of anger, his eyes showing no judgment, only an almost cold understanding.

"General, before answering your question, I'd like to tell you an ancient parable from the Far East." He put down his napkin and placed his hands, folded, on the table. "Perhaps this will help you understand the behavior of the Sakura Kingdom."

All eyes were on him. The candlelight cast flickering shadows on Chen Feng's face, making his expression appear deep and unfathomable.

"Long ago, a famine that lasted for several years struck the Far East," Chen Feng began, his voice low but clear. "In a village, there lived a family. The father had died young, the mother was frail, and there were five young children. The family's last bit of food had run out three months ago, and the children cried day and night from hunger. The mother could only boil tree bark and grass roots to feed them."

He paused, glancing around at the British delegation: "One day, a passing merchant came to the village. He saw the family's dire state and took a cloth bag from his cart. The bag was filled with white rice, plump and white rice. He said to the mother, 'I can give you this rice, but on one condition—your eldest son must come with me and work for me for five years.'"

"The mother looked at her children, skin and bones from hunger, and at her eldest son's eyes, which had lost their sparkle with starvation. She knew the merchant had a bad reputation, knew he might mistreat her son, and knew this departure might be forever. But—"

Chen Feng lowered his voice, as if recounting a secret: "—When she turned her head and saw the other four children barely alive, she reached out and took the bag of rice. The next day, the eldest son left with the merchant. No one knew where he went or what he went through. All people knew was that the family survived."

The hall was silent. The band had completely stopped playing. The waiters stood by the wall, holding their breath.

"Your Majesty, Your Excellencies," Chen Feng's gaze swept across George V's face, then to Sir Grey, and finally to the admiral, "When a person, or a nation, is in a state of extreme hunger, concepts like morality, credibility, and alliances become blurred. The instinct for survival overrides all rational thought. That mother didn't ask the merchant what work he wanted her son to do, nor did she worry about whether her son would be mistreated. She only knew that without that bag of rice, the whole family would die."

He leaned forward slightly: "What was Japan like in 1914? In the Battle of the East China Sea, the Combined Fleet was completely annihilated. War reparations bankrupted the national treasury, the heavy industry base was destroyed, and foreign trade was almost completely cut off. Rice prices soared, the unemployment rate exceeded 30%, and people were starving to death on the streets of Tokyo every day. That country was like a starving mother."

King George V frowned. He wanted to retort, but Chen Feng's words were like a cold scalpel, dissecting an unpleasant but potentially true reality.

"So when the Germans handed over 'that bag of rice'—" Chen Feng continued, "—eight million pounds in cash, Krupp's gun steel technology, Siemens' electrical patents, and postwar support promises. The Japanese government, or rather the Ministry of the Army that controlled the government, made the same choice as that mother. They accepted the rice and handed over their sons. As for where these 'sons' would go, what they would do, and for whom they would fight… in the face of a survival crisis, none of that mattered."

Sir Grey took a deep breath: "Your Excellency, do you mean the actions of the Sakura Kingdom can be forgiven? Because they are 'starving'?"

"No," Chen Feng shook his head. "I didn't say it could be forgiven. I was just explaining the logic behind the behavior. Understanding is not the same as forgiveness. But if we don't understand the logic behind the behavior, we can't find a real solution."

He looked at George V: "Your Majesty, you can punish a man who steals bread because he is hungry by putting him in jail. But does that solve the problem? No. Because his children are still starving, and tomorrow a second and a third person will steal bread. The real solution is not punishment, but giving them bread—or teaching them how to grow their own bread."

King George V tapped his fingers lightly on his scepter. This gesture revealed his inner turmoil.

"What are you implying, Your Excellency?" the king asked in a low voice.

"I'm stating a fact." Chen Feng leaned back in his chair. "What Japan needs most right now isn't condemnation, but an opportunity for economic development, space to recover, and... a state of no longer being 'starved.' As long as they remain in a survival crisis, they will continue to make unconventional choices. Today they can fight for Germany, tomorrow they can fight for anyone—as long as the price is right."

The admiral's face turned ashen: "So we should fund them? Reward their betrayal?"

"No," Chen Feng denied again, "but we can consider...guiding them. A person who is well-fed will start to think about whether the source of their food is safe, will start to value long-term relationships rather than short-term transactions, and will start to regain their rationality and dignity."

He paused, allowing the translator to relay his words in full, before continuing, "Your Majesty, what are the interests of the British Empire in the Far East? Is it a stable, predictable East Asia, or a turbulent, desperate nation of cherry blossoms, ready to act madly for survival at any moment?"

This question left the British delegation deep in thought.

King George V and Sir Grey exchanged a glance. The Foreign Secretary nodded slightly, indicating that although Chen Feng's words were harsh, they touched on the core issue.

"Your Excellency," the King began slowly, "you seem to have a deep understanding of the Sakura Kingdom's situation. So, in your opinion, how should we 'guide' it?"