Chapter 245: Contrast

"Course 115, speed 22 knots, all systems operating normally," the steady report from the chief navigator came from behind.

Chen Feng did not turn, only gave a slight nod. His gaze swept over the calm sea toward the northeast. In that direction, about ten days' sail away, a rust‑spattered Dutch merchant ship carrying the surrender delegation of the Sakura Nation was slowly heading toward Borneo. Two worlds were moving toward each other on the same ocean.

"Commander." The young intelligence officer Li Mingyuan stepped to his side and handed over a tablet, "Latest intelligence analysis from Yokohama. The Batavia left port yesterday afternoon, its speed expected not to exceed twelve knots. Besides the delegation, there are seventeen Dutch crew members on board, unarmed."

"Dong Xiang Pingbalo…" Chen Feng whispered the name, his eyes lingering on the aged yet still upright silhouette, "He volunteered to come."

"Yes, Commander," Li Mingyuan said, "According to inside intelligence, it was Dong Xiang himself who submitted the request to the temple‑internal cabinet. The reason: 'wants to see with his own eyes the shape of the New Era.'"

"New Era," Chen Feng repeated the phrase, a subtle complex curve appearing at the corner of his mouth. He handed the tablet back, "Are their cabin arrangements completed?"

"As per your request, they are placed in the west wing of the Gu Jin State Guesthouse. It offers a sea view as well as a view of the city and the New Port District," Li Mingyuan paused, "Additionally, the Foreign Minister's office inquired about the specifications of the welcome ceremony upon arrival…"

"According to the defeated‑nation delegation standard," Chen Feng's voice was calm and unruffled, "Do not raise their flag, do not play their anthem. A ceremonial reception, then proceed directly to negotiations."

"Understood."

After Li Mingyuan left, Chen Feng turned back to the observation window. The Revival was now cutting through a sun‑splashed sea, and among the spray split by the bow, flying fish occasionally leapt, tracing silver arcs in the light. This vessel is the Lanfang Republic Navy's newest flagship, displacing forty thousand tons, fully electric‑propelled, equipped with the latest phased‑array radar and vertical launch system. It is more than a warship; it is a proclamation—a rising maritime power displaying its technology and will to the world.

Elsewhere on the same ocean, the old ship named Batavia lingered in another era. Powered by coal‑fired boilers, its top speed was only half that of the Revival; its hull was corroded, its equipment antiquated. It was a remnant of the final colonial age, carrying the envoy of an empire once ambitious but now shattered, sailing toward a future it could not comprehend.

"Report, Commander, encrypted communication from the Gu Jin Command Center received," the communications officer announced, "Prime Minister Zhang Zhen will hold a final pre‑war video conference with you tomorrow morning."

"Reply confirmed."

Chen Feng drained the now‑lukewarm coffee in one gulp. The bitterness spread across his tongue, bringing a sharp clarity. He cast one last glance at the endless ocean outside the window, then turned away from the observation port.

As he passed the bridge, the upright silhouettes of the on‑duty crew, their focused gazes, the fluid hands operating the consoles—all each detail silently narrated the condition of this army and this nation. They were young, confident, wielding the most advanced technology, possessing an absolute belief in the future.

Meanwhile, in the cramped cabin of the Batavia, Dong Xiang Pingbalo sat on a creaking bunk, peering through a fogged porthole at the monotonous horizon. The veteran who once led the United Fleet to a miracle in the Strait of Tsushima was now contemplating, perhaps, the true meaning of the "New Era" that Chen Feng embodied.

Two ships, two worlds, moving toward each other on the same ocean. In ten days they will meet on the coast of Borneo. That moment will mark not only the end of a war but a formal verdict of one era upon another.

Chen Feng entered his own captain's cabin, the door closing silently behind him. He sat at the desk, opened the encrypted terminal, and the screen began downloading the latest negotiation baseline documents sent by Prime Minister Zhang Zhen's office.

Outside, the Indian Ocean remained as calm as a mirror, but Chen Feng knew that beneath this tranquility, the currents of history were surging toward a wholly new direction at an irreversible speed.