AWB Chapter 103 Meeting
Chapter 103 Meeting
The door opened, then closed again.
Only Wang Wenwu and Li Mingyuan remained in the conference room. The shredded paper on the table was swept up by the wind blowing in from the window, swirled in the air, and fell to the ground.
Li Mingyuan swallowed hard. "Minister, isn't saying this... a bit too direct?"
"Some things have to be said directly." Wang Wenwu walked to the table, picked up a piece of scrap paper, on which the words "budget of four million pounds" could still be seen. "The Japanese are very clever; they knew this would be the outcome. Togo came in person not to buy the ship, but to confirm—to confirm our attitude towards Japan, to confirm just how much we hate them."
"So they've confirmed it now."
"Yes." Wang Wenwu threw the shredded paper into the trash can. "So next, they will do two things: first, accelerate their own shipbuilding program; second, do everything they can to stop us from growing stronger. Espionage, sabotage, diplomatic pressure... they will use every means possible."
"How should we deal with this?"
"Report to the President first." Wang Wenwu glanced at his watch. "Go prepare the car; I'm going to the administration building now. Also, notify the Security Bureau that, starting today, all activities of the Japanese delegation will be monitored 24 hours a day. I need to know who they meet, where they go, and what they say."
"Yes."
As Wang Wenwu stepped out of the conference room, he saw Togo Heihachiro standing in the courtyard of the Palm Palace. The old man had his back to him, looking up at the distant shipyard area. There, the keel of a new ship had just been laid, and the sparks from the welding were clearly visible even in daylight.
Dongxiang stared for a long time, then turned around and met Wang Wenwu's gaze.
The two remained thirty meters apart, neither of them moving.
Finally, Togo nodded slightly—not a polite nod, but the respectful nod between opponents.
Then he turned and walked toward Building No. 4. His steps were still steady, but Wang Wenwu felt that the old man's back looked heavier than when he had come.
At 7 p.m., Chen Feng listened to Wang Wenwu's full report in his study.
"You did the right thing," Chen Feng said after listening. "These kinds of things should be said clearly to their faces. Hiding them only gives them false hope."
"When Dongxiang left, he asked me to pass on a message to you," Wang Wenwu said. "He said... 'I hope Lanfang is well prepared.'"
Chen Feng smiled, but there was no warmth in his smile.
"Prepared? We've been preparing for three years. From the first day I set foot in this desert, I knew that I would have to confront Japan sooner or later. I just didn't expect it to happen so soon."
He walked to the map and pointed to Taiwan.
"In the First Sino-Japanese War, they took Taiwan. In the Russo-Japanese War, they took the South Manchurian Railway. Now, they want the entire Far East. We are in their way."
"Commander-in-Chief, what are you planning to say when you meet Togo tomorrow?"
"Just like you said." Chen Feng turned around, "but I'll be more direct. Some things carry a different weight when I, the 'Commander-in-Chief,' say them."
Wang Wenwu hesitated for a moment: "Wouldn't that... be too provocative for them? We still need time."
"Time isn't something you beg for; it's something you fight for." Chen Feng walked to the window, looking at the night outside. "Three years ago, we begged the British for a way out, and they ignored us completely. Now? They have to sit down and negotiate with us. Why? Because we have the 'Restoration Ship,' because we dare to fire on Java."
He paused, then lowered his voice:
"Wenwu, do you know why I insist on building battleships? It's not because I like fighting, but because in this era, without cannons, there is no voice. Japan understands the sound of cannons and understands strength. The tougher we are, the less they dare to act rashly."
"I see."
"Go and rest." Chen Feng patted his shoulder. "Tomorrow, you'll come with me to see Dongxiang. Some plays are better performed by two people."
After Wang Wenwu left, Chen Feng remained alone in the study. He didn't turn on the light, but sat in the dark, watching the lights of the harbor outside the window.
The points of light merged together, like a starry sky reflected in the sea. Three years ago, this place was pitch black.
He recalled his childhood, on the fleeing fishing boat, his father's dying words: "Feng'er, remember... our country is called Lanfang... in Borneo... you must go back... you must go back..."
At the time, he didn't understand; all he knew was to cry. Now he understands, but he also realizes how difficult this path has been.
To go back, one must cross the Taiwan Strait, cross the South China Sea, cross the guns and cannons of the Dutch, cross the obstruction of the British, and cross the hostility of the Japanese.
It's like dancing on the edge of a knife.
But you have to jump.
Because if you don't jump, you'll never be able to go back.
The clock on the wall struck ten. Chen Feng stood up, turned on the desk lamp, spread out a sheet of white paper, and began to write down what he would say to Togo Heihachiro tomorrow.
This isn't a speech, it's an outline. Key point one, key point two, key point three…
When he got to the fifth point, he stopped writing, drew a circle on the paper, and wrote two words inside the circle:
"Bottom line".
The bottom line is: Lanfang will not do arms business with Japan, will not acknowledge Japan's special interests in the Far East, and will not support any expansionist actions by Japan.
Based on this, everything else... is open for discussion.
But would Togo accept it? Would an ambitious imperial naval commander who had defeated Russia accept the "bottom line" of a Chinese nation?
Chen Feng didn't know.
All he knew was that tomorrow's meeting would determine the future of Lanfang's relationship with Japan over the next decade. If things went well, they would live in peace; if not, they would go to war.
He had already prepared for the worst.
10:03 AM.
When the door to the No. 1 reception room of the administration building was pushed open, Togo Heihachiro was standing in front of the ancient map of Pontianak, Borneo. The map was drawn 120 years ago using the traditional Chinese landscape painting technique, with mountains shaded in green and rivers outlined with silver lines, and the coastline marked with "Lanfang Grand Commandery Territory" in tiny characters.
"Lord Togo."
Chen Feng's voice came from the doorway. Dongxiang turned around and saw the young Commander Lanfang walk in alone, without any attendants, not even the sharp-tongued Wang Wenwu from yesterday. He was wearing a dark gray stand-up collar Zhongshan suit, the collar buttoned up to the top, and the cuffs neatly rolled up to the middle of his forearms, revealing his strong wrists.
"Your Excellency the Commander-in-Chief." Togo bowed slightly, using the standard Japanese naval officer's salute—a 15-degree angle, no more, no less.
Chen Feng walked to the head of the long table but didn't sit down immediately. His gaze swept across the table: two documents were already placed on the Dongxiang side of the table, neatly bound in kraft paper folders. A black ceramic teapot was steaming in the center of the table, and three identical teacups were arranged in a triangle.
"Please sit down."
The two men sat down at the same time. The chairs were made of solid wood and had no cushions, so sitting on them naturally straightened their backs. Yoshimatsu Shigetaro and Lieutenant Ono sat on chairs against the wall two steps behind Togo, like two silent statues.