Chapter 134: The British Pound Will Soon Be Worthless

In the small conference room, Howard and Dupont had already waited ten minutes; both remained silent, only occasionally exchanging glances, the atmosphere subtle.

The door opened, Chen Feng walked in, followed by Wang Wenwu.

"Sorry to keep you two waiting," Chen Feng said, sitting at one end of the long table. "Communication in the desert is indeed inconvenient, which caused some delay."

Howard spoke first: "President, we understand your official duties are busy. But the situation in Morocco has reached a critical point; London and Paris both need a clear answer."

Dupont continued: "The German 'Leopard' is still in Agadir, and intelligence shows the German 'Westphalia' battleship has already left Port Bolla, possibly heading to Morocco. If Lanfang sends another ship to join, the situation could get out of control."

Chen Feng nodded and poured himself a glass of water.

"Gentlemen, let me ask a question first," he said. "If Lanfang remains neutral—does not send ships to the Mediterranean, does not issue any statement—what commitments can Britain and France offer?"

Howard and Dupont exchanged a glance. They had anticipated this question.

"London can promise," Howard said, "to guarantee the safe navigation of Lanfang's merchant ships within British spheres of influence, including the Straits of Malacca, the Indian Ocean, and the Red Sea routes."

"Paris can promise," Dupont said, "to support Lanfang's legitimate rights in Borneo. If Lanfang later has a dispute with the Netherlands, France will provide diplomatic support in international forums."

Chen Feng sipped his water slowly, seeming to be thinking.

"Is that all?"

Howard frowned: "President, what else do you want?"

"Loans," Chen Feng said, setting down his cup. "Large‑scale, long‑term, low‑interest loans for industrial construction and livelihood improvement."

Dupont's eyes lit up—any problem money can solve is not a problem.

"How much?"

"Fifty million pounds," Chen Feng said. "Yingguo fifty million, Faguo thirty million. Term of five years, annual interest not exceeding three percent."

Howard inhaled sharply: fifty million… that's equivalent to the Royal Navy's shipbuilding budget for a year!

"So it's a long‑term loan, disbursable in installments," Chen Feng said. "I can accept collateral—if repayment fails after five years, we could offset it with Hood‑class battlecruisers and other advanced warships, or with our oil revenues."

Dupont began calculating mentally. If Lanfang really repaid with oil revenue, the loan's risk would not be great. Moreover, lending to Lanfang would bind it to the economic system of Britain and France. Most importantly, the Royal Navy's gaze on the Restoration Ship…

"I need to consult Paris," he said.

"London also needs time," Howard said.

"I can wait," Chen Feng said, "but until we receive an official reply, Lanfang will not dispatch a single soldier to the Mediterranean."

That was practically a clear commitment. Howard and Dupont both breathed a sigh of relief.

"One more thing," Chen Feng added. "I hope Britain and France will support Lanfang's entry into international organizations—such as the Universal Postal Union and the International Telecommunication Union. We need the international standing of a normal country."

"That… can be discussed," Howard said.

The talks continued for another half hour, covering some details. When Chen Feng stood up to shake hands, Howard couldn't help but ask:

"President, may I ask? What conditions have the Germans offered?"

Chen Feng smiled: "Consul, do you think I would tell you?"

Howard also laughed: "I was presumptuous."

After seeing off the British and French consuls, Chen Feng returned to the car. Wang Wenwu followed and closed the door.

"President, really taking loans from Britain and France?"

"Hmm." Chen Feng closed his eyes, "and the more, the better."

"Why? We're not short of money now."

Chen Feng opened his eyes; his gaze held something Wang Wenwu could not understand.

"Because in five years, the British pound and the French franc… may no longer be worth anything."

Wang Wenwu was stunned, still not grasping the meaning, when Chen Feng already shifted the topic:

"Go to the German consulate. It's time to give Major General Mueller a reply."

In the German consulate's conference room, Major General Mueller had been waiting for two hours. When Chen Feng finally arrived, his complexion was not good.

"President, the one‑week deadline has arrived."

"Yes." Chen Feng sat down, "Sorry to keep you waiting; this afternoon I met with the Yingguo and Faguo consuls."

Mueller's gaze sharpened: "What did you discuss?"

"They want Lanfang to stay neutral," Chen Feng said bluntly, "in exchange they are willing to provide loans and international support."

"Did you agree?"

"I said I need to consider." Chen Feng looked at Mueller. "Major General, now it's Germany's turn. If I refuse to send ships to the Mediterranean, what compensation can Berlin offer?"

Mueller took a deep breath. He opened his briefcase and took out a new document—apparently Berlin had long prepared an alternative plan.

"First, Krupp armored steel technology, the full suite, transferred entirely, including the latest surface carburizing hardening process."

"Second, Siemens Electrical Company is willing to joint‑venture with Lanfang to build a power equipment factory in Dubai."

"Third, Imperial Bank can provide a low‑interest loan of thirty million marks for a term of five years."

Chen Feng listened, gave no immediate reply. He stood and walked to the window, looking at the palm trees in the consulate's garden outside.

"Major General, you are a soldier," Chen Feng said, turning his back to Mueller. "What do you think—if Britain and Germany really went to war over Morocco, who would win?"

Mueller was momentarily stunned: "President, why do you ask that?"

"Just curious."

Mueller was silent for a few seconds, then said, "The Imperial Army is the world's best. But the navy… Britain has a numerical advantage."

"What if the war lasts more than a year?"

"Then it depends on sea control. If our submarines can cut off Britain's maritime supply lines…" (referring to U‑shaped submarines introduced in 1906).

"So submarines are the key." Chen Feng turned around. "Major General, I will not send ships to the Mediterranean. But as compensation, I can do one thing."

Mueller sat up straight: "Please, go on."

Chen Feng continued, "If— I mean if— someday in the future Britain and Germany really clash, Lanfang can secretly sell submarines to Germany, settled in gold."

Mueller's hand tightened under the table. Submarines! That's exactly what the German Navy needs most!

Price?

Twenty‑five thousand pounds per ship, including training and a full set of ammunition.

I need to consult Berlin…

"Of course," Chen Feng said, "but please act quickly. The British and the French are also making offers, and my patience is limited."

The talks continued for another hour. When they ended, it was already nine p. m. Muller escorted Chen Feng to the doorway and suddenly said in German:

"President, do you think… it will really break out? Between England and Deguo?"

Chen Feng stopped, turned back, and looked at the German Navy Rear Admiral. In the moonlight, Muller's face appeared very serious, even a little weary.

"Rear Admiral, I am a businessman," Chen Feng replied in German. "I only know that when both sides think they can win, war becomes hard to avoid."

Muller nodded and said nothing more.

In the car on the return trip, Chen Feng received an urgent telegram. It came from U-3, containing only a single short line:

"Observed artillery flash, bearing 280, Distance unknown. Submerged to maximum depth. Further report pending."

Chen Feng handed the telegram to Wang Wenwu.

"Did it start?"

"I don't know," Chen Feng said, looking west. "But the smell of gunpowder over the Mediterranean… is getting stronger."

The car drove into the night. In the distance, toward the harbor, the shipyard lights remained bright. Workers were still on overtime, hammering, welding, and assembling the steel giants that would soon change the world.