Chapter 300: Who Loses, Sell to Whom

"Today we reconfirmed our path: deconstruct politics with business logic, counter ideology with pragmatism. This road is difficult because we must deal with everyone at once, yet we cannot be bound to anyone."

"But this is the only road. In the cracks between the great powers, only absolute pragmatism can secure absolute freedom."

"The price has already been paid, and more will be paid. But for Lanfang's future, it is worth it."

"Tomorrow, continue."

He closed the diary, turned off the lights, and left the office.

The corridor was quiet, only his footsteps echoing. Most people in the building had already left work, but this city, this country, would never stop running.

Just like this war, just like this era, just like the wheel of history, rolling forward, never turning back.

And what he must do is ensure that Lanfang, in this surging torrent, is not crushed dust but a ship steering the wave.

Outside the window, Dubai's myriad lights illuminated the desert night and also lit the path of a rising nation.

February 7, 1916, 7 a. m.

Naval shipyard.

Heavy sea fog shrouded the entire coastline, obscuring silhouettes beyond ten meters. Yet within the three‑kilometre‑long plant, workers had already begun a day's labor. The thunderous blows of steam hammers on steel plates, the shrill screech of rivet guns, the roar of moving cranes—these sounds pierced the dense fog like the breathing of an industrial behemoth.

At the deepest part of the plant, inside a massive 350‑metre‑long dry dock, the outlines of two colossal hulks flickered in the mist.

Those were the pride of Lanfang's navy—the Bismarck‑class battleship East Sea and its sister ship South Sea. The two vessels were being built side by side; the keel had been laid, and the hulls were taking shape. Hundreds of workers bustled on the crisscrossing scaffolding, welding sparks blooming in the thick fog like fireworks at a festival.

Chen Feng stood on the observation platform at the edge of the dry dock, holding a pair of binoculars. Beside him stood the Minister of Industry, Liu Qinian.

"President, look," Liu Qinian said, pointing at the dock, "according to the schedule, East Sea can be launched this October, while South Sea is two months later."

Chen Feng set down the binoculars: "What about quality? We cannot sacrifice quality to rush the schedule."

"Quality is absolutely guaranteed," Liu Qinian opened the folder in his hands. "We have improved three weaknesses of the original design: the main gun turret rotation mechanism now has a backup power system, the horizontal armor thickness has been increased by twenty millimetres, and the fire‑proof isolation in the engine room is more thorough."

Chen Feng nodded. The sea wind blew, bringing a heavy smell of rust and paint. He liked that scent—it was the smell of industrialization, the smell of national strength.

"What about the preparation work for the other two ships?" he asked.

"It's already underway," Liu Qinian turned to the next page, "Bo Sea is being built at Shipyard No. 8, foundation excavation will be finished next week. Huang Hai is at the new Shipyard No. 12, where deeper water allows a larger dry dock—we have reserved expansion space, so in the future we can build 55,000‑ton, even 60,000‑ton giants."

Chen Feng turned, looking at Liu Qinian: "Minister Liu, I'm here today not to inspect those two known ships. I want you to launch a new plan—build four more."

Liu Qinian's hand trembled, and the folder almost fell to the floor.

"Build…four more?" his voice dried. "President, we are currently building two ships, and with the two planned, that's already four. Building four more would make eight Bismarck‑class battleships. This …"

"What's wrong with that?" Chen Feng asked calmly.

"That's impossible," Liu Qinian took off his glasses and wiped them. "It's not technically impossible, it's resource‑wise impossible. Building one Bismarck‑class requires 40,000 tons of special steel, 8,000 tons of copper and aluminum, 200,000 man‑hours of senior technicians, and a budget of 20 million Lanfang yuan. Four would be 80 million, almost equal to last year's total military spending."

He put his glasses back on, voice urgent: "Moreover, we need shipyards, dry docks, and supporting port facilities. More importantly, we need people—skilled welders, riveters, pipefitters, electricians. These people cannot be trained in a day!"

Chen Feng said nothing, just watching him quietly. When Liu Qinian finished speaking, he spoke:

"Finished?"

"Finished."

"Alright, now listen to me." Chen Feng walked to the edge of the observation platform, hands on the rail, "Minister Liu, you only see the cost, not the profit. You only see the difficulty, not the opportunity."

He turned: "Eight Bismarck‑class ships—we don't necessarily have to use them all ourselves."

Liu Qinian was stunned: "Not use them ourselves? Then why build them?"

"Sell."

The word was spoken lightly, but hit Liu Qinian's heart like a heavy hammer.

"Sell?" he repeated. "Sell to whom?"

"Sell to whoever needs it," Chen Feng said, "the Deguo need it, the Yingguo need it, the Faguo, the United States, the Russian… anyone who can pay the price can buy."

Liu Qinian's eyes widened: "But this is the most advanced battleship! It's a strategic weapon of the state! How can we …"

"Why not?" Chen Feng cut him off. "Minister Liu, you're an engineer; think more broadly. Tell me, what is the cost of building one Bismarck‑class?"

"Twenty million Lanfang yuan."

"If we sell to Deguo, what price can we ask?"

Liu Qinian thought for a moment. "If it includes the full weapons system and ammunition… thirty‑five million? Forty million?"

"I intend to ask for fifty million," Chen Feng said, "and only gold, no paper money."

"Fifty million?!" Liu Qinian inhaled a sharp breath. "Will Deguo buy it?"

"Not now, but soon." Chen Feng walked back, took the folder from Liu Qinian, turned to a blank page, and pulled out a pen to start drawing.

He drew two simple bar charts.

"Look, this is the strength of the Royal Navy, this is the strength of the Deguo open‑sea fleet. Right now the Yingguo have a slight edge, but the gap isn't large." He drew a line between the two bars. "Within this year, the two sides will inevitably clash in a decisive naval battle—its scale will be unprecedented, the losses enormous." (Japan‑Deguo‑Lanfang, the editor plans to make it even more tragic; who do you think will suffer more?)

He looked up: "When that time comes, what will happen to the side that loses battleships? They will urgently need replacements. And a battleship isn't a car; it can't be built in a few months. From design to groundbreaking, from construction to commissioning, it takes at least two years. Two years in war is an eternity."

Liu Qinian began to understand: "So we must build stock in advance …"

"Right." Chen Feng nodded. "When they finish fighting and realize they lack enough ships, we'll have ready, the most advanced battleships right here. Money changes hands, ships change hands. No waiting; they can set sail back and use them immediately."

He kept drawing: "Moreover, we don't sell to just one side. If Deguo loses, we sell to Deguo. If Yingguo loses, we sell to Yingguo. If both suffer heavy losses … then we can sell to both simultaneously."