Chapter 108: Expansion 2

France: five "Lone Pull" class ships,

Deguo: two "Caesar" class ships,

Yingguo: one "Orion" class ship, design plan already confirmed (skip the negotiations with the Yingguo, jump straight to completion in 1909).

Chile: two "Dauntless" class ships,

Total: ten capital ships, with an average construction period of 22 months per ship.

"Our current maximum capacity," Liu Yongfu said, pointing at the form, "is building six ships simultaneously. Of the eight shipyards, two are under renovation and six are operational. Expanding to ten would mean at least two shipyards must shut down for a year. That would directly cause order delays."

"So we need innovation," Chen Feng said, looking at Liu Yongfu, "the 'segmental construction method' you mentioned before—can it speed things up?"

Liu Yongfu's eyes lit up. It was the new technique he had researched for half a year: dividing the hull into dozens of modules, building them synchronously in different workshops, then assembling them in the shipyard like stacking blocks.

"In theory it can cut the schedule by thirty percent," he said, "but it requires redesigning all process flows, training workers, and constructing dedicated module transport tracks. The upfront investment is huge."

"How much investment?"

"At least five hundred thousand pounds. Mainly for building new module workshops and the transport system."

"Approved," Chen Feng said without hesitation. "Allocate it from the South Ocean Homecoming Fund. Wang Bo, note it down."

Wang Bo quickly jotted it in his notebook, the brush rustling on xuan paper. The elderly man insisted on using brush and xuan paper for meeting minutes, saying the characters could endure for a hundred years.

"Next," Chen Feng said, turning to Li Te. "What about the navy? Can the training of new crew keep up?"

Li Te sat up straight. He was wearing the navy's regular uniform today, the stars on his shoulder boards polished to a shine.

"No problem!"

Chen Feng turned to Zhou Nian: "What about railways and electricity? Industrial expansion demands that infrastructure keep pace."

Zhou Nian opened his notebook, its pages filled with pencil sketches.

"The harbor‑circumference railway is currently eighty percent complete and can transport twenty thousand tons of supplies daily. To support ten large shipyards, capacity must at least double. I recommend building two branch lines directly to each shipyard. Budget… three hundred thousand pounds."

"Power is even trickier," he continued. "The existing three thermal power plants have a combined installed capacity of eighty thousand kilowatts, already near the limit. New shipyards, new factories, and an additional one hundred fifty thousand people… we need at least another fifty thousand kilowatts of capacity."

"How is the tidal power station progressing?" Chen Feng asked.

"The experimental one has a five hundred kilowatt capacity and runs stably," Liu Yongfu took over. "But to scale up we must solve turbine corrosion. The Persian Gulf's seawater is too salty."

"Then continue the research. Also, place an additional order with Deguo for two 20,000‑kilowatt thermal power units," Chen Feng decided. "Wang Bo, note it down. Thermal power units, two units, priority guarantee."

After the round of questioning, the budget had risen by over a million pounds. Yet no one raised objections. Everyone knew this was the price that had to be paid.

"Alright, now let's discuss the most critical part," Chen Feng leaned forward, hands on the table. "What is the overall goal of the Rock Solid Plan? It is not merely to expand shipyards, but to fulfill all received orders within three years and to have the capability to handle two regional crises simultaneously."

"Two crises?" Wang Wenwu frowned. "The President is referring to…"

"For example, Dutch trouble in the South Ocean direction while Japan exerts pressure in the Taiwan direction," Chen Feng said calmly, but the content made everyone hold their breath. "If we only have the Restoration Ship and the Revival Ship, we can only respond to one direction. But if we have six ships of the same class, we can split forces."

Li Te's eyes lit up: "The President is already considering combat deployment?"

"It's not consideration, it's a necessity," Chen Feng stood, walked to the massive South Ocean map on the wall. "Dongxiang asked me today what Lanfang's ultimate goal is. I told him it's to go home."

He pointed his finger at the location of Borneo on the map:

"Kun Dian. The former capital of Lanfang. Now five thousand Dutch troops are stationed there, with coastal artillery and a fortress. We must retake it; negotiation won't work. The Dutch won't withdraw voluntarily, just as the Japanese won't voluntarily return Taiwan."

His finger traced along the coastline, crossing the Strait of Malacca, crossing the South Sea:

"Along this route we will face the Dutch navy, possible Yingguo interference, Japan's stance, and the positions of Indigenous Kingdoms along the way. Without enough warships, we can't even get out of the Persian Gulf."

The conference room fell silent. Everyone stared at the map, at the sea divided into a patchwork of colors. Blue denoted deep sea, white unmarked areas, red Lanfang's former land, orange Dutch‑controlled zones, yellow Yingguo colonies, black Indigenous territories.

It was as complex as a dead‑end chessboard.

"So the true meaning of the Rock Solid Plan," Chen Feng turned, looking at each person present, "is not to build more shipyards but to establish an unbreakable foundation. Even if we suffer setbacks in the South Ocean, even if we cannot return home for a time, we still have the Persian Gulf as a base. As long as the shipyards exist, the factories exist, and we exist, we will always have a chance."

He walked back to his seat but remained standing, continuing:

"Three years. I give you three years. After three years I want to see ten shipyards capable of building world‑class warships, all orders delivered on schedule, the navy able to handle two crises at once, and the army with at least three fully staffed divisions."

His gaze swept over each face:

"Can we do it?"

Silence.

Then Liu Yongfu was the first to stand. The old engineer straightened his habitually slightly hunched back; his voice was low but firm:

"President, I started learning shipbuilding from my master at twenty‑four, and I'm fifty‑eight now. I've built ships all my life, never a ship as fine as the Restoration Ship. As long as I still have a breath… the shipyard will certainly be built."

Zhou Nian was the second to stand: "Railways and power plants, leave them to me."

Li Te was the third: "Navy training, guaranteed to complete the mission."

Wang Wenwu was the fourth: "Diplomacy and trade, I will hold the front line."

Finally it was Wang Bo. The old man rose slowly; he made no promises, only said, "Young Master, I will watch and remember. When the day comes that we return home, we will tell these matters, one by one, to the ancestors in the ancestral hall."

Chen Feng watched them, watching those who had followed him since the thirty‑tent era, his eyes a little warm. Yet he held back.

"Alright," he said, "then it's settled. After the meeting adjourns, each of you draft detailed plans; we reconvene in three days. List the budget, schedule, personnel needs, everything clearly. I want to see the numbers, the timeline, and how much responsibility each person bears."

He paused, then added:

"One more thing. From today onward, all new immigrants must undergo basic military training. They need not become soldiers, but must know how to fire a rifle, dig trenches, and understand air‑defense knowledge."

"Yes!"