Chapter 251: Hunger and Gunfire

At six in the morning, the mist over Kundian had not yet cleared, and a thin veil hung over the surface of the Kapuas River. Dongxiang Pingbalo was already standing on the hotel balcony, slowly completing a set of Tai Chi facing the river. As he finished, he breathed lightly, a fine sweat beading at the corners of his forehead—after all, he was sixty‑seven.

Inside the room, Sini Zhengyi sat at the table, a draft of the "Key Points of the Concession Proposal" spread before him. The handwriting was sloppy, many parts smudged, and the final paragraph ended with only half a sentence: "If this condition remains unacceptable, then…"

He did not write the rest. Because he could not continue.

When Shanben Quanbingwei knocked and entered, his eyes were a shade of dark blue, clearly having spent another sleepless night. He held several documents in his hand, the topmost being an encrypted telegram sent from Tokyo in the early morning.

"Prime Minister, domestic reports," Shanben's voice was hoarse, "the situation across the regions yesterday… has worsened."

Sini took the telegram, his hand trembling slightly. The message was written in code, and its translation read:

"Urgent reports from across the country on November 19: a rice shop in Nagasaki was looted, police fired on the crowd, three dead and seventeen injured; dockworkers in Osaka went on strike, demanding food rations; Yokohama saw an 'Anti‑Defeat' rally, with over two thousand participants; three grain warehouses in Hiroshima were breached, losing three hundred koku of rice… The cabinet held an emergency meeting until 3 a. m., concluding: a peace treaty must be reached quickly to resume maritime shipping."

The last line was especially striking: "Social order is on the brink of collapse."

"Edge…" Sini murmured the word repeatedly, giving a wry smile as he handed the telegram to Dongxiang, "we are still haggling at the negotiating table, while our homes are already on fire."

Dongxiang took the telegram, reading it slowly. After finishing, he gently folded the paper and placed it back on the table: "Sini, do you still remember the strategy we used during the Russo‑Japanese War's siege of Port Arthur?"

Shanben frowned, "Marshal, now is not the time to talk about this…"

"No, this is precisely the time," Dongxiang shook his head, "the Port Arthur campaign lasted five months, and the Russian forces held out stubbornly. How did we finally win? Not by a frontal assault, but by cutting off food and water. When the defenders were too hungry to lift their guns, they surrendered naturally."

He looked at Sini: "Now we are the Russian garrison inside the Port Arthur fortress. Outside is Lanfang's besieging army, while inside our food is nearly exhausted and water almost gone. The only difference is— we are not defending a fortress, but an entire nation. And the citizens are innocent."

Sini closed his eyes, his fingers pressing his temples. A severe headache throbbed, as if a drill were boring into his skull.

"So, Marshal, you mean…"

"What I mean is," Dongxiang stood up and walked to the window, "we may no longer have the right to bargain. Chen Feng is right—each day of delay costs the citizens. If we argue over another word here today, another person may die back home."

Shanben sprang to his feet, "Is there no other way?"

Dongxiang turned to look at him, his gaze complex, "Shanben, if a person breaks a leg, what is the first thing to do? First bandage and stop the bleeding, set the bone and treat the wound, then rehabilitate slowly. Not dragging a broken leg and forcing oneself to stand, which would tear the wound and ultimately render the entire leg useless."

He walked back to the table, tapping the telegram with his finger: "The Sakura Nation is that broken‑legged person now. Continuing to act tough will only cause excessive blood loss and death. First sign the peace treaty, first stop the bleeding, first survive. Whether it can stand again in the future… that is a matter for the future."

Shanben was about to say something, but Sini raised his hand to stop him.

"Prepare to depart," the Prime Minister's voice was weary, "today… today, we must have a result no matter what."

At exactly nine in the morning, the delegations sat down again at the long table. The atmosphere was heavier than yesterday—every representative from Lanfang wore a calm expression, while those from the Sakura Nation looked like prisoners about to be led to the execution ground.

Chen Feng today wore a light‑gray suit with a dark‑blue tie. After sitting down, he did not jump straight into the main issue, but first had the attendant bring tea.

"This is Borneo's local rainforest tea," he signaled the attendant to pour a cup for each, "its production is limited and not exported. Please have a taste."

Sini Zhengyi mechanically lifted his teacup and took a sip. The tea was fragrant, with a tropical plant's distinctive sweet freshness, yet he could not discern any flavor—his mouth was filled with bitterness.

"After yesterday's recess," Chen Feng set down his cup, "we held internal discussions. Considering the Sakura Nation's post‑war practical difficulties, Lanfang is willing to make some adjustments."

Shanben's eyes lit up. Sini also lifted his head.

"Please, go ahead," the Prime Minister said.

Wang Wenwu opened the folder: "First, the compensation payment period can be extended from ten years to twelve years. Second, regarding naval restrictions, considering the Sakura Nation's island status, we agree that during a five‑year transition they may retain three old‑style battleships for training—provided their displacement does not exceed fifteen thousand tons and they are not modernized."

"Third," Chen Feng continued, "regarding the transfer of XX, a six‑month buffer period can be set. During that time Lanfang will only station symbolic troops, with administrative handover proceeding gradually to lessen social shock."

Sini Zhengyi quickly calculated in his mind: extending the compensation term by two years reduces the annual burden by about twenty million yen; the navy gains a five‑year transition; the territorial handover gets a buffer… These terms are indeed better than yesterday's.

But he knew this was only a minor concession. The core clauses—five hundred million yen in compensation, ceding territory, naval disarmament—remained unchanged.

"We appreciate your… goodwill," Sini chose his words carefully, "but we still have some concerns. First, the compensation amount, five hundred million yen is truly…"

"The compensation amount cannot change," Chen Feng cut in directly, "it compensates for war losses and guarantees future peace. Our calculations show that five hundred million yen, while sizable, if spread over twelve years amounts to about forty‑two million per year, and with interest less than fifty million. Given the Sakura Nation's economic potential, it can fully bear it—provided you no longer waste the money on armaments."

"But the livelihood…" Sini still wanted to argue.

"Livelihood issues are your own concern," Chen Feng's tone grew cold, "if the Sakura Nation's government redirected the funds for building battleships to purchase food, there would be no famine now. If the Sakura Navy used the Fuel for drills to transport supplies, merchant ships would not have halted. Prime Minister, your problem isn't a lack of money; it's misallocation of money."

Those words pierced the Sakura Nation representative's heart like a knife. Shanben Quanbingwei's face flushed red, but he clenched his teeth and remained silent.

Dongxiang Pingbalo suddenly spoke, "President, I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"You just said the Sakura Nation should redirect military funds to civilian needs. But if neighboring threats persist, how can we confidently disarm?" Dongxiang asked calmly, "Lanfang is now strong, naturally it won't threaten the Sakura Nation. But ten years from now? Twenty years? International dynamics are unpredictable; if the Sakura Nation lacks self‑defense capability, won't it be at the mercy of others?"

Chen Feng stared at Dongxiang for a long while. Then he smiled, "Marshal Dongxiang, your question is aimed at the wrong direction."

"I am eager to hear the details."