Chapter 100: Three Dishes and a Soup Is Enough

"Minister, to Palm Palace?"

"Right. Drive slower, give me ten minutes to think."

The car left the administrative building area and entered the newly built coastal avenue. The sea was on the left, a residential complex under construction on the right. A crane arm traced an arc in the sky, and a concrete mixer roared past.

Wang Wenwu closed his eyes and ran through the Chilean navy data in his mind: its main force consisted of two 1890s pre‑dreadnoughts bought from Yingguo, now obsolete. Argentina had purchased dreadnought‑class battleships from Lanfang, which for Chile meant the local balance of power was shattered. They needed new ships, as quickly as possible, and as powerful as possible.

And Japan… Dong Xiang Pingbala himself came, indicating they were truly in a hurry.

The Russo‑Japanese War had just ended; although Japan won, its treasury was drained and the fleet suffered heavy losses. Most importantly, they failed to extract reparations from Russia. They urgently needed to replenish modern warships, especially after seeing Lanfang's Restoration Ship perform in Java.

But that ship could not be sold.

It wasn't a technical issue, but a stance issue. Chen Feng had said, "Lanfang's warships must never fly the Rising Sun flag."

The car stopped in front of the main building of Palm Palace. It was a structure that blended Arab style with modern design, white exterior walls, arched windows, and a courtyard planted with drought‑resistant flora imported from South America.

Wang Wenwu took a deep breath, put on a professional smile, and opened the car door.

Carlos Silva was a man of about fifty, not tall but broad‑shouldered, dressed in a dark‑blue naval uniform with his chest medals polished to a shine. He stood in the center of the reception hall, his back as straight as a mast.

"Commissioner Silva, welcome to Dubai," Wang Wenwu said in Spanish—he had taken a crash course before departing for Europe and only knew a few basic phrases.

Silva's eyes lit up: "Mr. Wang speaks Spanish?"

"Just a little, to show respect to the guests," Wang Wenwu switched back to English. "Let's stick to English; it's more precise. Please, have a seat."

They sat on the sofa. A servant brought coffee—beans supplied by the Chilean delegation, freshly ground and brewed, with a rich aroma.

"Mr. Wang, I'll be frank," Silva said without touching the coffee. "Chile needs warships, two of them, capable of overwhelming the two 'Dreadnought' ships Argentina bought. We know Lanfang can build the world's most advanced vessels; we have come with sincerity and a budget."

Wang Wenwu smiled, gestured for the servant to step out. After the door closed, he said, "We sense the sincerity; what is the budget?"

"Each ship must not exceed three million pounds sterling. But it must have a performance edge—Main Gun caliber at least 305 mm, speed at least 22 knots, armor thicker than the 'Dreadnought'."

"Three million pounds…" Wang Wenwu lifted his coffee cup without drinking, his fingertips tracing the rim. "Mr. Silva, do you know how much we sold the 'Dreadnought‑class' to Deguo for?"

"I heard… two point eight million?"

"Two point eight million is the base price," Wang Wenwu set the cup down. "If Chile wants a performance edge, special design is required. The sea conditions of the South Pacific differ from those of the North Sea; hull structure, stability design, even the air‑conditioning system must be adjusted. All of this demands extra R&D costs."

Silva's expression remained unchanged, but his finger tapped lightly on his knee.

"Mr. Wang, Chile is a small country with limited finances. But we are willing to pay for quality. Name your price."

"Two point eight million pounds per ship," Wang Wenwu said. "But that's a friendship price. There are three conditions: First, fifty percent prepaid in full, thirty percent when construction starts, and the balance upon delivery. Second, all crew must come to Dubai for six months of training, costs billed separately. Third, and most important—core technology and design blueprints are non‑transferable. You may buy the ships and learn to operate them, but you cannot learn to build them."

The room fell silent for a few seconds.

Silva suddenly laughed, the kind of relaxed laugh that appears at a negotiation table.

"Mr. Wang, do you know? Before coming, we studied every country capable of building dreadnoughts. Yingguo priced it at three million, with a thirty‑six‑month build time, and didn't guarantee performance beyond their own ships. Deguo is more expensive and has a queue. Only you… offered a reasonable price, a short construction period, and were willing to customize for the South Pacific."

"So?"

"So Chile accepts those three conditions," Silva leaned forward. "But we also have a request—if possible, we'd like to tour your nation's shipbuilding facilities. Not to steal technology, just to see with our own eyes what kind of ship our money will become."

Wang Wenwu thought for a few seconds: "We can arrange a visit to a civilian shipyard and some publicly accessible industrial sites. How about tomorrow morning?"

"Excellent."

"Additionally," Wang Wenwu stood, "we've arranged a small welcome banquet tonight. In the coming days we can schedule visits to our school, hospital, and port. We want Chilean friends to see not just an arms factory, but a nation on the rise."

Silva also stood, his handshake very firm.

"Mr. Wang, there's something I must say—before coming I expected to see a... how to put it, a nouveau‑rich arms dealer. But now I see you're building a genuine nation. That puts me more at ease."

"Thank you," Wang Wenwu smiled. "Then, rest this afternoon? We'll meet at the banquet hall at seven tonight."

After seeing Silva off, Wang Wenwu returned to the reception hall, his smile fading. He walked to the window and watched the Chilean delegation members lugging luggage toward Building Two. Eight men, light‑footed, walked while pointing at a distant crane and discussing something.

It's a good omen.

He pulled out his notebook and jotted the key points: Chile, two ships, 2.8 million per ship, 50% prepaid, training billed separately. Arrange tomorrow's visit to civilian facilities.

Just as he finished writing, the secretary knocked and entered, looking a bit odd.

"Minister, there's a minor issue with the Japanese delegation…"

"What situation?"

"Dong Xiang Pingbala wants to see you now. He said, 'Since Minister Wang's schedule is full today, I'll wait until he is free.' He's been sitting in the lobby of Building Four for twenty minutes."

Wang Wenwu glanced at his watch: 11:40.

"Is lunch arranged?"

"It's arranged, but he says he's not hungry."

"Then let him wait," Wang Wenwu closed his notebook. "According to plan, at two p. m. I'll take the Chileans to the port for a tour. Notify the port side to have the Restoration Ship's training footage ready for the Chileans. But make sure the Japanese aren't nearby."

"Understood."

"Also," Wang Wenwu paused, "tell the cafeteria to deliver lunch to the Japanese delegation's room, standard… according to the minimum B‑level reception standard. Three dishes and a soup, that's enough."