Chapter 309: This Is Our Business with Yingguo and Faguo

At three o'clock that afternoon, the Dubai Ministry of Foreign Affairs reception room.

Wang Wenwu sat in the main seat, with three cups of tea—Dragon Eye Network, Pu'er, and Tieguanyin—arranged before him. The tea was already brewed, the steam curling upward, releasing distinct aromas into the air.

The door opened, and the secretary led three people inside.

The first was Thomson, acting as deputy at the Yingguo consulate in Lanfang—Major General Gerard had returned to London for a report, so Thomson was standing in. Thomson was forty, of modest height, wearing gold‑rimmed glasses, a typical civil‑servant appearance.

The second was Dupont, the Faguo consul in Lanfang, in his fifties, sporting a neatly trimmed goatee, moving with elegance, yet his eyes showed fatigue—Faguo had shed too much blood in this war.

The third was Zhou Xiaoru, the Northern X Government's Dubai business representative, a sixty‑year‑old old scholar, dressed in a long robe and mandarin jacket, with half a braid left at the back of his head.

"Please sit, all three," Wang Wenwu gestured. "Sorry to summon you so urgently, but there is an important matter to discuss."

The three sat down and exchanged glances. They all sensed that today's meeting was unusual—Wang Wenwu had convened representatives from three sides at once, something that had never happened before.

"Minister Wang, may I ask what guidance you have?" Thomson spoke first, using fluent Mandarin but with a Yingguo accent.

Wang Wenwu did not beat around the bush: "This morning we received a notice from the Northern X Government regarding the dispatch of 150,000 Chinese laborers to Europe to assist the Yingguo–Faguo allied forces."

Thomson and Dupont's expressions relaxed a bit. They had thought Lanfang would discuss cooperation details—perhaps to claim a share, or to provide transport services.

Zhou Xiaoru straightened his back, a proud look on his face: "Exactly. This is an important step for our XX nation to integrate into the international community, demonstrating the responsibility of our five‑thousand‑year‑old civilization."

Wang Wenwu glanced at him, his eyes complex: "Representative Zhou, I would like to confirm a few details. These laborers—are they volunteers?"

"Of course they are voluntary!" Zhou Xiaoru said. "When the notice was posted, applicants rushed in. Twenty silver yuan per month, including food and lodging—this is a tremendous boon for impoverished farmers."

"Do they know where they are going? Do they know what they will do? Do they know how dangerous it is?"

Zhou Xiaoru's expression stiffened briefly: "Well… there is of course an explanation. Building works, transporting supplies, railway maintenance—these are rear‑area tasks, with no danger."

"Distance to the front line?"

"This…" Zhou Xiaoru could not answer.

Dupont took over: "Minister Wang, please rest assured, the labor camps are placed in safe zones, Distance to the front line is at least twenty kilometers. Moreover, according to the agreement, laborers are prohibited from direct combat duties and enjoy the same protection as allied logistical personnel."

Thomson added: "In fact, this is a good opportunity for the laborers. In Europe they can learn modern industrial technology, broaden their horizons, and earn money that they could not make in ten years at home. After returning, they will become seeds of China's modernization."

The words sounded beautiful. Wang Wenwu sneered inwardly. Had he not read the European battle reports and known how many shells the so‑called "safe zones" endured each day, he might have believed them.

"Then," Wang Wenwu said slowly, "if these laborers change their minds midway and no longer wish to go, is that allowed?"

The conference room fell silent for a moment.

Thomson frowned: "Minister Wang, I do not quite understand your point. The contract has been signed, the ship schedule set—how can this be treated as a game?"

"I am saying if," Wang Wenwu persisted, "if the laborers board the ship, travel halfway, suddenly miss home, or become frightened and want to return. Is that permissible?"

Dupont smiled, a condescending tolerance in his grin: "Minister Wang, you may not fully grasp the situation. Most of these laborers are illiterate peasants; what they need is guidance, not choice. We and your government have already arranged everything for them; they only need to follow orders."

Zhou Xiaoru nodded repeatedly: "Exactly so. The state has paved a way for them; they ought to be grateful and serve with their utmost effort."

Wang Wenwu felt a wave of nausea. He recalled Chen Feng smashing things that morning and suddenly understood why the president was so furious.

These people—Yingguo officials, Faguo officials, even this braid‑wearing "own person"—when discussing the fate of 150,000 compatriots, speak as if they were 150,000 head of livestock. Where to go, what to do, whether it's dangerous, whether they can return… none of that matters. What matters are "international obligations," "national dignity," and "seeds of modernization."

It is just that no one cares; they are living, breathing individuals.

"Alright," Thomson glanced at his watch, "Minister Wang, if you have no further questions, we will…"

"I do have one," Wang Wenwu interrupted, "the Lanfang government, after careful study, has decided to express concern."

"Concern?" Thomson raised an eyebrow, "Concern about what?"

"We are concerned about the life safety and basic human rights of the 150,000 Chinese laborers," Wang Wenwu said word for word. "According to the information we have, the western front in Europe is currently intense, and the so‑called 'safe zones' are not safe. The work the laborers perform is highly dangerous, and the current agreement does not provide sufficient safeguards."

Dupont's expression darkened: "Minister Wang, are you questioning the credibility and capability of the Yingguo and Faguo governments?"

"I am not questioning, I am stating facts," Wang Wenwu took a report from the folder, "This is the casualty statistics for the past six months in the rear areas of the European western front. It includes civilians mistakenly hit by Shell fire, logistical personnel hit by air raids, and laborers who died from harsh conditions and disease. The numbers are here; the three of you may have a look."

He pushed the report over. Thomson grabbed it and skimmed quickly, his expression growing increasingly grim.

The report was compiled by Lanfang's intelligence department, with data from multiple sources, detailing the death toll of non‑combatants in the war zone: an average of three to five thousand per month.

"These figures..." Thomson wanted to say "inaccurate," but could not utter it, because he knew the actual numbers might be higher.

Zhou Xiaoru also leaned over to look, and after reading, his face turned pale: "This... how could this be possible..."

"Representative Zhou," Wang Wenwu said, looking at him, "do you still think this is a 'tremendous boon' now?"

Zhou Xiaoru could not speak.

Thomson set the report down, removed his glasses and wiped them: "Minister Wang, I understand your country's concerns. But war is like this—there is sacrifice, there is danger. Moreover, this is an agreement between the XX government and the Yingguo and Faguo governments; Lanfang, as a third party, seems to have no standing to intervene."

"We do have a stance," Wang Wenwu said, "because they are our compatriots. Blood is thicker than water; is that stance enough?"

Dupont sneered: "Minister Wang, international politics is not a place for family ties. If every nation intervened in others' internal affairs because of 'compatriots,' the world would descend into chaos."

"Then let it be chaotic," Wang Wenwu said calmly, "it is far better than watching 150,000 people be sent to their deaths with our eyes open."

The atmosphere in the conference room suddenly grew tense.

Thomson put his glasses back on: "Minister Wang, are you issuing a threat?"

"No, I am expressing a stance," Wang Wenwu stood up, "the Lanfang government's official position is: we strongly oppose any act of sending Chinese laborers to European war zones. We demand a reassessment of the agreement's safety and suggest considering alternative solutions."

"Alternative solutions?" Dupont asked, "what alternatives?"

"For example," Wang Wenwu said, "let these laborers come to Lanfang. We have land to cultivate, factories needing workers, construction needing labor. We can offer equal or even better treatment, and—no risk to life."

Thomson and Dupont exchanged glances, each seeing the absurdity in the other's eyes.