Chapter 228: Negotiations Are Mandatory

Tokyo, Prime Minister's Residence, Sinei Zhengyi's study, 11 p. m.

Smoke filled the study. Sinei Zhengyi sat behind the desk, with the Navy Situation Assessment Report that Shanben Quanbingei had just delivered spread before him. Opposite him, Shanben Quanbingei and Gangshi Zhizhu each sat on a sofa, the three forming an uneasy triangle.

They had been arguing for two hours, yet to no avail.

"Negotiated peace is the only way out," Shanben Quanbingei repeated, his voice already hoarse. "Today Yokosuka was shelled; tomorrow it may be Wu Port; the day after, Sasebo. Each day we delay adds to our losses and reduces our bargaining chips."

"Negotiating is surrender!" Gangshi Zhizhu retorted unflinchingly. "The Empire has never surrendered to a Yazhou nation! If we bow to Lanfang today, tomorrow Korea and Taiwan will stir! The Empire's prestige will vanish!"

"Does the Army have any better plan?" Shanben asked coldly. "Beyond the hollow slogans 'home‑soil decisive battle' and 'jade shattered,' does the Army have concrete, feasible plans that can change the situation?"

Gangshi Zhizhu's face flushed: "We can mobilize! We can build defenses! We can…"

"Do what?" Shanben cut him off. "Can you stop Lanfang's warships from shelling our port from over twenty kilometers away? Can you stop their submarines from sinking our merchant ships? Can you conjure food, oil, steel? Minister Gangshi, tell me what the Army can actually do, specifically."

Gangshi Zhizhu opened his mouth but could not speak. He knew Shanben was right. The Army can defend against landings, but cannot stop a naval blockade or long‑range shelling. Without sea lines of communication, the island nation of Japan could not survive three months.

Sinei Zhengyi finally spoke, his voice weary: "Minister Shanben, if we negotiate now, what terms will Lanfang demand?"

Shanben pulled a document from his briefcase: "Based on our study of Chen Feng and our analysis of Lanfang's past diplomatic actions, they may propose the following: First, a massive indemnity, possibly amounting to several hundred million yen. Second, recognition of Lanfang's sovereignty over Borneo and its sphere of influence in the South Ocean. They might even, TW, demand market opening with most‑favored‑nation treatment for Lanfang goods. Fourth, a restriction on the Empire's Navy Scale, possibly requiring us to scrap some old vessels and limit the tonnage and firepower of new ships."

With each point, Gangshi Zhizhu's complexion grew darker. By the time Shanben finished, Gangshi Zhizhu was trembling with anger.

"This… this is practically a death‑sentence!" he shouted. "Hundreds of millions in reparations? How much does the Empire earn in a year? Recognize their sphere in the South Ocean? What about the Empire's southward expansion? Restrict the Navy? How will the Empire protect its sea lines in the future?"

"At least the Empire still has a 'future,'" Shanben said calmly. "If the war continues, there may be no 'future' at all."

"You're a defeatist! A surrenderist!" Gangshi Zhizhu rose, pointing at Shanben's nose. "You are unfit to be Navy Minister! You should commit seppuku and apologize!"

Shanben Quanbingei lifted his head, looking at Gangshi Zhizhu. His gaze was calm, but within that calm lay something unsettling.

"Minister Gangshi," he said word for word, "the Navy has already performed seppuku. Over four thousand men and four of our most elite battleships lie at the bottom of the East Sea. If that is not enough, I can commit seppuku right now. But before I do, answer me this: after I seppuku, can the Army win this war? Can it make Lanfang's warships disappear? Can it stop the Empire's ports from being shelled?"

Gangshi Zhizhu was speechless again. He stared at Shanben, his eyes seeming to blaze, yet no word came out.

Because the answer was negative. No matter how angry or resentful he was, he could not change the harsh reality: Japan had already lost. It had lost sea control, the war, and its chance to dominate the Far East.

"Enough." Sinei Zhengyi finally rose, cutting off the endless argument. "Minister Shanben, please send a tentative signal to Lanfang through a neutral country: the Empire is willing to cease fire and discuss ending hostilities. The condition is that Lanfang must halt all military actions immediately."

"Will they agree?" Shanben asked.

"I don't know. But we have to try." Sinei, rubbing his temples wearily, said, "Minister Gangshi, please cooperate. During the negotiations the Army must exercise restraint and avoid any actions that could inflame tensions."

Gangshi Zhizhu wanted to speak, but seeing the fatigue and resolve in Sinei's eyes, he merely gave a cold snort and turned away from the study.

After the door closed, only Sinei and Shanben remained in the study.

【5】 "Will he really cooperate?" Shanben asked.

"Will they really cooperate?" Shanben asked.

"He won't," Sinei said with a wry smile. "But at least he won't oppose openly. Now we need time. Time for the people to gradually accept reality, time for the international community to intervene and mediate, time to… let this war end in a less humiliating way."

Shanben Quanbingei remained silent for a long while, then bowed deeply: "Prime Minister, thank you for your hard work."

Sinei Zhengyi shook his head: "You are the one who suffers. From now on you will bear the greatest pressure—from the Army, from the Parliament, from the people, even… from within the Navy."

"I understand." Shanben straightened his posture, his back still upright, but the sharpness in his eyes had vanished, leaving only a heavy sense of responsibility. "But this is the Navy Minister's duty. The Navy caused the trouble, the Navy must clean it up."

He turned and left. Sinei Zhengyi stood alone in the study, gazing at the calligraphy "Enduring Martial Fortune" on the wall. It was penned by Emperor Meiji, once inspiring the whole Empire to press forward.

But now, the martial fortune is no longer enduring.

Outside, Tokyo lay silent. The city's inhabitants still did not know what upheaval their nation was undergoing, nor what changes their lives would soon face.

Far to the south, on the surface of the East Sea, four steel leviathan warships patrolled. Their gun barrels pointed at the Japanese archipelago, like four Damocles swords hanging over the Empire's head.

The sword has already fallen once.

When it falls a second time, it may never stop.

Sinei Zhengyi walked to the window, staring at the pitch‑black night sky. No stars shone, only a thick blanket of clouds, heralding a greater storm imminent.

"Chen Feng…" he murmured, the name lingering, "what exactly… do you want?"

No one answered. Only the night wind slipped through the courtyard pines, emitting a wailing sound.