Chapter 25

Berlin, Sanssouci Palace.

The banquet had lasted three hours, yet the atmosphere showed no sign of waning. Under the crystal chandeliers, generals, dignitaries, and industrial magnates raised their glasses and drank freely, their faces flushed with the glow of victory.

Wilhelm II sat in the seat of honor, already somewhat tipsy. He had just accepted an interview with the Berlin Daily, in which the reporter devoted two full pages to describing how His Majesty the Emperor was 'far-sighted,' 'defied opposition,' and 'created the glory of the German Navy.'

Now he had his arm around Tirpitz's shoulder, speaking loudly—his voice loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.

"Alfred! My dear Alfred! Do you know how today's London Times editorial reads?" Wilhelm II mimicked a British accent: "'A formidable challenger has taken the stage'—hahaha! Challenger? No! We are the rulers!"

Tirpitz kept a polite smile, but his body was somewhat stiff. He was not accustomed to such intimate contact, especially in front of so many people.

"Your Majesty," he tried to steer the conversation back on course, "the British reaction has been stronger than expected. Our military attaché reports that the London Parliament is debating an unprecedented shipbuilding program."

"Let them discuss! Let them build!" Wilhelm II waved his arms, "When they finish their first ship, we already have ten! When they finish ten, we will have twenty! How could the strength of Germany ever be matched by those island barbarians?"

Gustav Krupp, chairman of Krupp Company, immediately raised his glass in agreement: "Your Majesty the Emperor is wise! Krupp's steelworks and artillery workshops can at any time serve the Imperial Navy! As soon as the orders come, doubling production is no problem!"

"Have you heard that, Alfred?" Wilhelm II slapped Tirpitz finally found an opportunity to slip from the emperor's embrace, straightened his uniform, and said: "According to the contract, the first ship will be ready in eighteen months, and all four ships will be delivered in three years. But Chen Feng said that, with sufficient resources, it could be compressed to two years."

He paused, then lowered his voice, yet still loud enough for several people nearby to hear clearly:

"Right, that Chinese man… Chen Feng. When will his second batch of ships be delivered?"

Tirpitz finally found an opportunity to slip from the emperor's embrace, straightened his uniform, and said: "According to the contract, the first ship will be ready in eighteen months, and all four ships will be delivered in three years. But Chen Feng said that, with sufficient resources, it could be compressed to two years."

"Tell him, give him whatever resources he needs!" Wilhelm II exclaimed grandly, "Gold? We have it! The gold bars shipped from South Africa, piled in the treasury and rusting—no, they should be turned into warships! Turned into cannons!"

Finance Minister August von Heltlin, hearing this, flashed a look of worry on his face. He raised his wine glass, pretending to drink to hide his expression.

But the emperor noticed.

"August, my dear finance minister," Wilhelm II said with a teasing tone, "you're counting the costs again, aren't you? And wondering how much this will cost, aren't you?"

Heltlin set down his glass, gave a bitter smile, and said: "Your Majesty, the six Westfalen-class ships have already cost over ten million pounds. The second batch of four ships is another nearly ten million. This doesn't even count the corresponding ammunition, maintenance, personnel training… the imperial finances are indeed…"

"What is it?" Wilhelm II cut him off, "Indeed, we should invest in the future! August, think about it: once we control the North Sea, the British global trade routes will be our cash machine! The money we spend now will flow back tenfold, a hundredfold!"

Foreign Minister Bernhard von Bülow interjected at the right moment: "Your Majesty, regarding that Chen Feng… should we consider deeper cooperation? Dispatch a formal mission to the Persian Gulf to establish some kind of… official liaison?"

Tirpitz immediately became alert: "What does the count mean?"

"What I mean is," Bülow said, slowly cutting into his foie gras, "any force capable of building Westfalen-class battleships, whatever its name, deserves a certain degree of… diplomatic recognition from the empire. At least, de facto contact."

"Recognize a Chinese regime?" Chief of the General Staff Alfred von Schlieffen frowned, "This will provoke other European nations, especially the Netherlands—the Lanfang Republic was wiped out by the Dutch back then."

"The Netherlands?" Wilhelm II scoffed, "A third-rate country living off its ancestors' colonial plunder. Do their opinions matter?"

He pondered for a few seconds, a sharp light flashing in his eyes:

"But Bülow is right. That Chen Feng… is a talent. At twenty, he could organize such an industrial system and still negotiate with us. Such a person must either become a friend…"

The emperor didn't finish, but everyone present understood.

…or must be eliminated before he grows.

"Tirpitz," Wilhelm II turned to his navy chief, "next time you contact that Chinese man, pass along a message for me."

"Your Majesty, please speak."

"Tell him: the German Empire appreciates capable partners. If he can prove his worth… the empire doesn't mind having a special ally in the East."

This statement was vague, but its meaning was profound.

Tirpitz nodded: "I will convey it."

The banquet ended at midnight. Guests drifted away, but Wilhelm II kept Tirpitz behind.

The two entered the emperor's study. It was quieter here, only the crackle of firewood in the fireplace.

"Alfred, speak frankly." Wilhelm II, now sober, his eyes clear and sharp, "These Chinese ships—what are they really like?"

Tirpitz knew what the emperor was asking. Not the propaganda line of "world's strongest," but a genuine technical assessment.

"Your Majesty," he chose to speak frankly, "as of now, the Westfalen-class is indeed at least one generation ahead of all active battleships worldwide. All-big-gun design, steam turbines, unified fire control… these are revolutionary. Our sailors training in the Persian Gulf have felt most deeply that—operating this system feels like operating the future."

"The future…" Wilhelm II tasted the word, "then how long will it take the British to catch up?"

"If they go all out, two years. But in those two years we can build even more. Moreover…" Tirpitz hesitated, "Chen Feng might have even more advanced designs."

The emperor snapped his head up: "More advanced?"

"Just speculation. Our engineers in the Persian Gulf reported that Lanfang's shipyard has at least two super-large dry docks under tight protection, code-named 'Leopard Nest.' Personnel and materiel entering and exiting are subject to the strictest inspections. They suspect that whatever is being built there could be larger and faster than the Westfalen-class."

The study fell silent for a moment.

"Alfred," Wilhelm II said slowly, "you say… if we demand sharing those designs, will Chen Feng agree?"

"Hard. He's not an ordinary arms dealer. He has a clear nation-building goal, with three hundred thousand followers. Technology is his only bargaining chip; he won't give it up lightly."

"Then buy it." The emperor declared decisively, "Add money. Add gold. Or… exchange something else."

"Such as?"

Wilhelm II walked to the world map, his finger tracing eastward from Europe across the vast, declining territories of the Osman Diguo, stopping at the southern shore of the Persian Gulf.

"For instance, help him gain a bit of 'legitimate status' internationally. For instance, turn a blind eye to his reclaiming some 'ancestral lands' in the South Ocean."

Tirpitz drew a deep breath: "Your Majesty, this could provoke conflict with the Netherlands, and even with Britain."

"Conflict?" Wilhelm II laughed, that laughter holding a gambler's fervor, "Alfred, this world is about to undergo a great reshuffle. The old order is collapsing, the new order urgently needs to be built. In this reshuffle, whoever grabs more cards decides the rules of the next round."

He turned his gaze to Tirpitz:

"And Chen Feng is a trump card we unexpectedly acquired…"

Wilhelm paused, then added: "Right, my admiral, you may now make a 'friendly' visit to Britain."