World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"for example?"

"For example... technology sharing." Chen Feng's eyes lit up. "Imagine: what if Germany agreed to transfer some military technology—such as tank design and chemical processes—to Britain and France in exchange for territorial concessions? What if Britain and France agreed to jointly build a 'European Economic Community' with Germany, eliminating trade barriers? What if Merika secured its influence in Europe not through war, but through investment and technology transfer?"

Wang Wenwu was stunned. These ideas were too advanced, too idealistic, almost like utopia.

"The Germans won't agree. Technology is their last advantage."

"If they are defeated, they will lose everything. If they make peace, they can retain some assets and gain access to the British and French colonial markets. This is the rational choice."

"Britain and France wouldn't agree either. They hate the Germans."

"Hatred will fade with time, but economic recession won't." Chen Feng put down his teacup. "The industrial areas in northern France have been bombed into ruins, and reconstruction requires money and technology. Britain's national debt is already more than twice its GDP; if the fighting continues, it will go bankrupt. Peace, even a humiliating peace, is better than destruction."

He walked to the window and looked out at Dubai as night fell. The city lights were just coming on, but the port remained busy. This country he had built was like a small boat in a storm, needing to find a safe course.

"But all of this takes time. Wilson doesn't have time. Public opinion in the country is boiling over. He can only hold on for two more months at most. After two months, he will either declare war on Germany or be accused of being a coward and step down."

"So our goal is... to make the most of these two months?"

"At least a month." Chen Feng turned around. "If we can convince Wilson that a peaceful solution is possible, he can postpone his decision to declare war on the grounds of 'waiting for the outcome of diplomatic efforts.' We can do a lot in a month."

"for example?"

"For example, secretly arranging informal contacts between Germany and Britain and France. For example, pushing for a separate peace treaty with the Ottoman Empire to alleviate British pressure in the Middle East," Chen Feng listed one by one. "Every small problem solved increases the scope for solving the big problems."

Wang Wenwu pondered. The plan was grand, but the details were vague, and the risks were extremely high. If it failed, Lanfang might offend all the major powers at the same time.

"President, do you really think... there's still a possibility of peace? So many people have died, so much hatred has accumulated."

"Hatred can be resolved, as long as the interests are sufficient." Chen Feng's voice was calm. "In 1914, the French hated the Germans because of the war of 1871. But look, before the war, French capital invested heavily in German industry, and German goods were everywhere in the French market. When interests are involved, hatred comes second. The bottom line is that no one can affect Lanfang's interests, including that idealistic president across the Pacific."

He walked to his desk and began organizing the documents.

"Prepare to depart. The 'Huaihe' will set sail tomorrow, and we need to arrive at Pearl Harbor by the 23rd. Also, inform Liu Yongfu, Li Te, and Zhou Tieshan—'Operation Taishan' has entered its second phase. If diplomacy fails, we must intervene."

"What does the second stage refer to?"

"Full mobilization." Chen Feng's eyes turned cold. "If peace efforts fail, if the Meilika enters the war, if world war escalates... then Lanfang will choose to stand on the side that can win. And in order to be qualified to choose, we must have enough bargaining chips."

Wang Wenwu felt a chill. This meant that Chen Feng had prepared for the worst—not how to avoid war, but how to maximize Lanfang's interests during wartime.

"Would you like to choose a side?"

"If I had to choose," Chen Feng closed the folder, "I hope it doesn't come to that. Let's get ready. This trip to Hawaii might be our last chance."

After Wang Wenwu left, Chen Feng sat alone in his office. He opened a drawer and took out a yellowed document—a plan he had written in 1905, when he had just come into this world. The first page read:

"Goal: To build a nation where Chinese people can live and work in peace and prosperity, free from bullying. Method: Utilize the conflicts between the great powers, develop industry, accumulate strength, and wait for the right opportunity."

Eleven years have passed. The nation has been established, industry has developed, and strength has been accumulated. But now, the opportunity is not in his hands, but in the hands of an idealistic president across the ocean.

He picked up his pen and wrote a new line on the last page of the proposal:

"January 17, 1917. The final diplomatic effort is launched. If it fails, the survival plan will be activated. The cost is unknown, but it must be paid."

After finishing writing, he locked the drawer and went to the balcony. Night had completely fallen, and the stars in the Persian Gulf shone like diamonds. Under this beautiful night sky, however, humanity was killing each other, for reasons that were perhaps not even worth it.

Chen Feng recalled an old Chinese saying: "The trend of the times is irresistible and cannot be stopped by human effort."

But he insisted on giving it a try.

Even if there's only a one in ten thousand chance.

January 18, 1917, 6:00 AM, Dubai Naval Port.

A misty haze enveloped the harbor. Visibility was less than 500 meters, but through the thin fog, the outline of the colossal ship could still be seen—a 45,000-ton steel hull, like a moving island, silently moored at its dedicated dock. Its dark gray paint made it almost blend into the sea fog, with only the two large white characters on the bow faintly visible in the haze: Huaihe.

The Bismarck-class battleship "Huaihe" is the newest and most advanced main battleship of the Lanfang Navy, and also the ship that Chen Feng used for this visit.

Wang Wenwu stood on the pier, tightening his coat collar. The January morning in the Persian Gulf was a bit chilly, the sea breeze carrying a mixture of salty, fishy smells and engine oil. He glanced at his watch, then looked towards the President's residence—the convoy should be arriving soon.

"Minister Wang, all supplies have been loaded." Captain Zhang Haitao approached and saluted. This 42-year-old naval officer was one of the first generation of captains trained by Lanfang itself. He had studied at the Kiel Naval Academy in Germany for two years and, after returning to China, had commanded cruisers and destroyers, but this was his first time commanding a giant ship like the "Huaihe." "Fuel is 100% full, ammunition is 100% full, and fresh water and food are enough for 45 days of sailing. The escort fleet is already on standby in the open sea."

"Escort formation configuration?"

"Two cruisers, the Jiangsu and Shandong, four destroyers, and one supply ship. And..." Zhang Haitao lowered his voice, "The Qianlong III and Qianlong V submarines will accompany us at a distance of fifty nautical miles underwater, maintaining radio silence, but will surface in case of emergency."

Wang Wenwu nodded. This configuration already surpassed that of the main fleets of many countries, but Chen Feng insisted on demonstrating strength—not to show off, but to send a signal: Lanfang was not an opponent to be underestimated, nor a pawn to be manipulated at will.