Chapter 257: Treaty Signing 2

After the signing ceremony ended, the Sakura Nation delegation skipped the scheduled luncheon and returned directly to the hotel. They needed to pack their luggage, as they would board the Badaweiya that afternoon—eager to go home, though the homeland they were returning to was no longer as it had been yesterday.

In the room, Shanben Quanbei began taking off the medals from his chest one by one. Each time he removed one, he carefully polished it, then placed it back into a velvet box. He did it slowly and meticulously, as if performing some kind of farewell ritual.

When he reached the golden pheasant medal—the one representing the highest military honor—his hand stopped. He stared at the golden medal for a long time, then suddenly laughed, a light laugh full of sarcasm.

"It's from the Russo‑Japanese War," he told Sinei beside him, "awarded for my 'contribution' in the Battle of Tsushima. Thinking back, it's truly ironic. We defeated the Russians, thought we'd become a great power, and yet …"

He didn't continue; he simply placed the medal gently back into the box and closed the lid.

"Clang"—like the closing of an era.

Sinei was sorting documents. He put the "jade‑hair" pen used at the signing back into its rosewood box and locked it. He would never use that pen again; it would become a family heirloom and also a testament to disgrace.

"After we return home," Sinei suddenly said, "I will resign immediately. This treaty… needs a responsible person."

"Me too," Shanben said, "the position of Navy Minister should change hands. Replace it with someone… less painful."

Dongxiang Pingbalo sat in the chair by the window, looking outside. On the river, a Lanfang Navy patrol boat was passing, its Lanfang flag fluttering in the wind. That flag, which two months ago was still unfamiliar to him, now needed to be etched into his marrow.

"Marshal," Sinei walked over, "what are your plans after returning home?"

"Write a book," Dongxiang said, "record the course of this war, the negotiation process, and everything about Lanfang. Not for publication, but to leave for posterity, so they know why we lost, and to whom we lost."

He paused: "Perhaps… perhaps in a few decades someone will learn something from this book. If that happens, our failure won't be entirely in vain."

At two in the afternoon, the convoy took the Sakura Nation delegation to the pier. En route, Sinei asked the driver to take a detour; he wanted to see the cityscape of Kundian.

The vehicle passed through the commercial street of the New City district. The road was wide and tidy, shops lined both sides, pedestrians woven like a tapestry. Chinese, Malay, Indian… people of all complexions mingled, expressions relaxed, steps unhurried.

Passing a school at dismissal time, children streamed out, wearing uniform school clothes, backpacks on, chatting and laughing. They spoke Lanfang language, crisp and resonant.

"Their children…" Shanben murmured, "learning their own language, reading their own history, proud of their own country."

And the children of the Sakura Nation? Now perhaps they are starving, fighting over a single bite, asking their parents why there is no rice.

The vehicle turned a corner, passing the harbor district. At the pier, a dozen cargo ships were moored, cranes loading and unloading. Containers piled like small hills, stamped with various scripts: Lanfang Shipping, Dubai Port, Borneo Trade…

"That's sea power," Dongxiang said softly, "not warships but merchant ships; not bombardment but trade; not conquest but prosperity. The principle we spent forty years failing to grasp, Lanfang achieved in ten."

Sinei chuckled wryly: "Now we understand, but too late."

"Not too late," Dongxiang shook his head, "as long as we're still alive, it's not too late. It's just that the road… will be long and bitter."

The vehicle arrived at the pier. The Badaweiya was already lit, ready to depart, its smokestack belching black smoke. The shabby Dutch merchant ship, in Kundian's modernized port, looked out of place, like a beggar who had wandered into a palace.

Before boarding, Sinei glanced back at Kundian. The city glittered in the afternoon sun, like a freshly polished gem.

He would remember this scene. Remember how the nation that defeated Japan looked.

Not out of hatred.

But… for the future.

At the same time, in the conference room of the navy base guesthouse, Chen Feng was holding an internal debrief.

"The treaty text has already been encrypted and sent back to Dubai," Wang Wenwu reported, "according to procedure, Parliament will review and pass it within three days. Over at the Sakura Nation, Sinei's cabinet will urgently push approval, expected to complete the exchange of approval documents within a week."

Chen Feng nodded: "Has Zhang Zhen's side been notified?"

"Notified. The order has been issued: cease all offensive actions immediately, lift the naval blockade. All vessels withdraw beyond the patrol line, allowing Sakura Nation merchant ships free passage."

"What about the submarines?"

"U-series submarines are returning, expected to be fully back at base within three days."

Chen Feng leaned back contentedly. The "Dull Knife Cutting Flesh" campaign that had lasted over two months was finally over. The result was better than he had expected—Sakura Nation not only accepted all core terms but also made concessions on the additional clauses.

"What domestic reaction do you anticipate?" he asked.

Zhou Tieshan opened the file: "Based on public opinion analysis, the populace will go through three phases: first a week‑long euphoria of victory; then a cool period of reflection on the war's cost; finally a pragmatic phase focusing on the use of reparations and development opportunities. We have prepared corresponding propaganda plans."

"And the Sakura Nation?"

"It will be terrible," Zhou Tieshan said bluntly, "Sinei's cabinet will surely collapse, possibly within these days. Land‑and‑sea force tensions will further flare, social unrest will persist for a while. But because the treaty binds them, they dare not resume hostilities, only internal digestion."

Chen Feng thought for a few seconds: "We need a stable Japan, not a collapsed Japan. Minister Wang, prepare an aid package—not gratuitous aid, but trade credit. Allow Sakura Nation to pledge future reparations revenue as collateral, to purchase grain and industrial raw materials from Lanfang."

Several aides froze.

"President, this…," a young official hesitated, "we just won, and now we're to aid them?"

"It's not aid, it's investment," Chen Feng corrected, "a starving‑faced Sakura Nation is of no benefit to us. They'll riot, revolt, become a trouble for all East Asia. A barely surviving Sakura Nation can slowly repay our reparations and open its market to our goods."

He stood up, walked to the map: "More importantly, we need Sakura Nation to become a… model. Let other Yazhou countries see what happens when they challenge Lanfang, and what the way out is when they cooperate with Lanfang. After severe punishment, give them a lifeline, so the next time anyone thinks of challenging us, they'll have to weigh it carefully."