Chapter 161: Sent to the Sea Bottom

"So we can't agree?" Caperen retorted, "The fleet outside, according to the patrol boat's description, has at least four main ships. What do we have? Five old pre‑dreadnoughts, the youngest still ten years old. Firepower, protection, speed are all lagging. In a fight, we would undoubtedly lose."

"Then we ask the homeland for aid!" Van de Wilde said as if clutching a lifeline, "Send a telegram to The Hague, have the Royal Navy dispatch a fleet!"

"It takes two months from Rotterdam to Batavia," Caperen said coldly, "By the time the fleet arrives, our bones will be ready to be beaten like drums."

"Then ask Yingguo for aid! According to the Anglo‑Dutch Agreement, Yingguo is obligated to protect our interests in the East Indies!"

"Yingguo?" Caperen laughed, a laugh uglier than crying, "Governor, do you think Yingguo would go to war for us against a nation that has four modern battleships? And in the Far East, far from their own soil?"

Van de Wilde was speechless.

He knew Caperen was right. The Yingguo were shrewd merchants, only doing profitable trades. To fight a powerful fleet over a few Dutch plantations in the East Indies? Impossible.

"Forty‑five minutes left," Caperen glanced at the wall clock, "Governor, decide. War or peace?"

The Governor's office was in chaos. Officials argued nonstop, some for war, some for peace. Van de Wilde held his head, his mind a blank.

At that moment, a muffled thunderous blast came from the port direction.

Boom—

Like distant thunder, but lower and more shocking. The window glass vibrated with a hum.

"What was that?" Van de Wilde sprang up.

An officer burst in, his hat askew, "Governor! General! The offshore fleet… they opened fire!"

"What?! Not yet!"

"It was a warning shot! A Shell landed on the sea one mile offshore! A water column… the water column rose thirty meters high!"

Caperen rushed to the window, raised a telescope. Though the view was vague, the massive water column on the sea outside the port was clearly visible through the telescope. White spray glittered in the sunlight.

"Caliber… at least 380 mm," he muttered, "No, perhaps larger."

Another Shell fell. This time closer, the water column almost splashed onto the port's breakwater.

"They're adjusting range," Caperen set down the telescope, turned to Van de Wilde, "Governor, the next round may be live fire. Where to hit? The gun battery? The barracks? Or… the Governor's Office?"

Van de Wilde's legs began to shake.

9:30, the Lanfang fleet received a reply from the Dutch.

The telegram was brief: "Agree to negotiate. Please send a representative into the port."

"General, shall we go?" Sarakh asked.

Li Te looked at the telegram, sneered, "They're trying to stall. Buy time, wait for reinforcements, or perhaps hold our representative hostage."

"Then…"

"Tell them," Li Te said, "Negotiations are possible, but on our ship. Have their Governor and fleet commander come aboard the Yangtze within an hour to talk. No later."

Fifteen minutes after the telegram was sent, the Dutch replied: "The Governor is unwell, cannot board. The Secretary‑General may substitute…"

Li Te tore the telegram outright.

"Notify all ships," he told the communications officer, "At ten o'clock sharp, first round of live fire. Targets: port gun batteries, barracks, naval dock. Avoid civilian facilities."

"Yes!"

The order was relayed quickly. The Yangtze and Yellow River's turrets began to turn, the 380 mm Main Gun rose slowly. The barrel was already loaded with high‑explosive Shells, fuses set for delayed detonation.

9:50.

The lookout tower reported: "The Dutch fleet has left port! Five main ships, advancing in a single Column toward us!"

Li Te raised his telescope. Indeed, five old warships clumsily sailed out of the port, black smoke billowing from their funnels. Leading was the Seven Provinces, followed by four smaller pre‑dreadnoughts.

"Futile struggle," he said, putting down the telescope, "Notify all ships, maintain formation. Cruisers and destroyers forward, protect the main ships' flanks. Wait for them to enter range."

"General, they've raised a flag," Sarakh said.

Li Te raised the telescope again. On the flagship Seven Provinces' main mast, a signal flag was hoisted: request dialogue.

"Want to talk?" Li Te considered, "Reply signal: willing to talk, but must first cease fire, release prisoners, exchange hostages. Otherwise… no talk."

The signalman sent the reply with lights.

A few minutes later, the Dutch replied: "Releasing the captured will take time, please allow…"

Before they finished, Li Te cut in: "Tell them this is the last chance. At ten o'clock, if we do not see the captured compatriots released, we will open fire."

The signal was sent.

No reply.

The Dutch fleet kept closing, distance shrinking to 18,000 m — the theoretical maximum range of their Main Gun, but at that Distance the Hit Rate was nearly zero.

9:58.

Li Te stared at his pocket watch. The second hand ticked tick by tick.

9:59.

The Dutch fleet suddenly turned, trying to seize the T‑crossing — the most advantageous position in naval combat.

"Too late," Li Te closed his watch, said to the artillery chief, "Target: enemy flagship Seven Provinces. Distance 17,500 m. All Main Guns, fire simultaneously!"

The order was shouted through the speaking tube to each turret.

The Yangtze's eight 380 mm Main Guns roared together.

Flames from the barrels were dazzling even in daylight, the massive recoil shaking the 40,000‑ton hull violently. Eight 800‑kg Shells left the barrel at an initial speed of 820 m/s, tracing eight visible arcs in the sky.

Time seemed to slow.

Li Te held the telescope, watching the Shells' trajectories. Seven seconds, eight seconds, nine seconds…

The first Shell landed fifty meters off the Seven Provinces' port side, the water column higher than the bridge.

The second fell thirty meters off the starboard side.

The third, the fourth…

The fifth hit.

In the telescope, the Seven Provinces' hull suddenly erupted in an orange‑red fireball, followed by thick black smoke. The Shell penetrated the weak upper armor and detonated inside the hull.

"Hit!" the Chief of Artillery shouted.

The sixth shot also hit, striking the bow. The seventh nearly missed, and shrapnel swept across the deck. The eighth hit the midsection again.

With just one volley, the Dutch Far East Fleet's flagship lost combat capability. Thick smoke poured out of multiple breaches, its speed visibly dropped, and it began to list to starboard.

"Continue firing!" Li Te ordered, "Yellow River, target enemy ship number two! Cruiser detachment, suppress the remaining enemy ships!"

The entire Lanfang fleet opened fire.

380 mm, 280 mm, 150 mm… Shells of various calibers rained down on the Dutch fleet like raindrops. In this wholly uneven engagement, the Dutch counter‑fire was feeble—their Shells mostly fell kilometers beyond the Lanfang fleet, and occasional near‑misses caused no substantive damage.

After thirty minutes, the battle ended.

The Dutch had five capital ships: one sank (Seven Provinces), two were heavily damaged and ran aground, and two raised white flags and surrendered. Throughout the whole episode, the Lanfang fleet suffered no heavily damaged vessels; only a few destroyers had their paint scratched by shrapnel. (Ask AI: in such a duel, Bismarck would need only ten minutes to send them to the sea floor; here we still write thirty minutes.)