World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Major General Zhao Dengyu, the division commander, squatted down with his soldiers to eat, his lunchbox in hand. He listened calmly to the reconnaissance report from the previous night.

"Commander," the chief of staff asked in a low voice, "should we send a reconnaissance company westward to at least find out the British deployment?"

Zhao Dengyu shook his head: "The President has ordered: do not cross the red line. Our current task is to establish a foothold, not to provoke."

He took a sip of hot soup and continued, "But we can strengthen our observation. Set up a concealed observation post every five kilometers inside the red line to monitor movements in the west 24 hours a day. Also, contact the navy to see if we can deploy a few radars along the coastline—even if the British might detect them, it doesn't matter, we just need to let them know we're watching."

"Yes."

After lunch, Zhao Dengyu climbed the watchtower in the center of the base. It was a simple tower built of steel pipes and wooden planks, fifteen meters high, and the tallest building in the area.

He raised his binoculars and looked westward.

Fifty kilometers away lies the Sinai Peninsula. There are 150,000 British troops there, with heavy artillery, aircraft, and some kind of "secret weapon" that has just arrived—intelligence indicates that the British call it a "tank."

On their side, they only had one division, isolated overseas, with a logistics line as fragile as a thin thread.

But Zhao Dengyu remained calm.

He put down his binoculars and his gaze fell on the flagpole in the center of the base.

The red flag with a golden dragon fluttered in the morning breeze. The flag had faded a bit—the desert sun was too harsh, and the wind too strong—but it still stood tall.

A young sentry stood guard beneath the flagpole. His back was ramrod straight, his rifle gripped tightly, and his eyes scanned the surroundings warily. Despite the vast desert all around, and despite the enemy possibly being only fifty kilometers away, his posture suggested he was guarding the entire nation.

Zhao Dengyu suddenly remembered what Chen Feng had told him before they set off: "Commander Zhao, the place you are going to is a desert now. But ten years from now, there will be oil fields, ports, and cities. And the flag you raise will be the beginning of all of that."

He didn't quite understand it then. Now, standing here, looking at this flag fluttering alone in the boundless desert, he suddenly understands.

This flag is a declaration.

Tell the world: Lanfang has arrived.

Tell history: The story here needs to be written in a different way.

Tell the future: This land will have new owners.

"Commander!" The communications soldier ran up the watchtower and handed over a telegram: "Urgent telegram from Dubai."

Zhao Dengyu took it. The telegram was very short:

"London has decided not to escalate for the time being. Your mission remains unchanged: stand firm, establish a foothold, and wait. Also: the British will send observers to visit and will receive them as a courtesy, but they must not display any core equipment. Chen."

After reading it, he folded the telegram and put it in his pocket.

"Notify all regiments," he told the chief of staff, "to intensify training and accelerate fortification construction. We'll be here...for a long time."

The sun rose fully, turning the desert golden. At the Khordesa base, machines roared, soldiers drilled, and flags fluttered.

Fifty kilometers away, at the British Sinai Line headquarters, a report on the "Lanfang Army's combat readiness" was on the commander's desk.

The report concludes: "This unit is highly disciplined, well-equipped, and professionally constructed. Although it comprises only one division, its defenses are solid, and a direct assault would be too costly. It is recommended to maintain the status quo and avoid conflict."

The commander signed the report and closed it.

Outside the window, on the British lines, soldiers were having breakfast. Further away in the warehouse area, fifty newly arrived Mark I tanks, covered with tarpaulins, looked like sleeping steel behemoths.

It's September. Autumn on the Somme is about to bring another bloody onslaught.

In the deserts of the Middle East, a new game of chess has just begun.

Both sides chose to... exercise restraint for the time being.

But everyone knows that patience cannot last forever.

At six o'clock in the morning on September 5, 1916, Dubai Port was shrouded in a light blue morning mist.

But there was no fog in the port area today—twelve large blowers imported from Germany lined up along the pier, running at full power, forcefully dispersing the usual morning fog of the Persian Gulf with artificial airflow. This was Liu Yongfu's idea: "We want the British to see every rivet clearly, to see that we are handing over an intact warship."

The No. 3 and No. 4 deep-water berths in the port area have been completely cleared. All the cargo ships that were originally moored have been moved to the outer anchorage. The berth ground has been washed three times with high-pressure water guns, and the moss in every crack of the stone slabs has been scraped clean. The workers painted brand-new white markings along the edge of the berth overnight and laid red carpets in key locations—not the usual dark red, but a bright vermilion, which looked like two flowing lines of blood in the morning light.

Two giant ships were quietly moored in their berths.

On the left is the "Fuxing" and on the right is the "Guangfu". These were the first two Hood-class battlecruisers of the Lanfang Navy. They served for six years and participated in the East China Sea naval battle. The repaired bullet holes on the hull have been carefully welded, polished and repainted, but upon close inspection, traces of past battles can still be seen.

Today, they have been given a new look.

The original dark gray naval livery of the Lanfang was completely covered, replaced by the Royal Navy's standard dark grey-blue. The white number on the bow was painted off, and the English names "HMS Renascence" and "HMS Restoration" were temporarily painted on it—a transitional name agreed upon by both sides, which would be officially changed upon arrival in the UK. But the most striking feature was the mainmast: the Lanfang's red flag with a gold dragon had been lowered, but the British Union Jack had not yet been raised, leaving the top of the mast empty and somewhat lonely in the morning breeze.

A temporary viewing platform was erected at the pier. The platform was two meters high, covered with a dark blue carpet, and featured a huge relief of the United Kingdom's coat of arms as a backdrop—moved overnight from a warehouse, originally intended for British consulate celebrations. Four flagpoles stood on each side of the platform; the left side displayed the Lanfang flag and the naval ensign, while the right side was reserved for the British flag and the naval ensign.

Liu Yongfu stood in the center of the reviewing stand, holding a program sheet in his hand, and gave the final instructions into the wireless telephone:

"Is the military band in position? I want to hear a rehearsal of 'Rule, Britannia!' and the Lanfang national anthem!"

"Attention, gun salute team! Twenty-one rounds, five seconds apart, precision is crucial! Are the shells loaded? I need blanks, not a single live round!"

"Honor guard, check the uniforms one more time! Buttons, shoes, white gloves—I want everyone to look like they've stepped out of a painting!"

He put down the microphone and wiped the sweat from his forehead. In Dubai in September, the morning temperature was already over thirty degrees Celsius, and he was wearing a full set of dark blue naval service uniform, his back already soaked with sweat.