Chapter 337: New Calculation

Wang Wenwu looked carefully at the list: "President, I've always had a question. Why are the Germans so generous? These are their core secrets."

"Because they need to survive," Chen Feng sneered, "War is the cruelest teacher; it forces you to make choices you couldn't otherwise. For Deguo, exchanging some technologies that may be crucial in the future for weapons and supplies they urgently need now is a sound deal."

He paused: "Moreover, they may think that even if they give it to us, we can't keep up. Europeans have a deep‑seated sense of superiority, believing Asians can only imitate, not innovate."

"Then we'll prove them wrong," Wang Wenwu said.

"Right." Chen Feng nodded, "Smacking them with facts hurts the most."

The third folder was the thinnest; its cover bore a single phrase: "Diplomacy—Post‑War Layout."

Chen Feng didn't open it immediately. He walked to the map and traced his finger from Europe to Asia, then from Asia to the Americas.

"The war won't last forever. I estimate at most two more years before all sides are exhausted and sit down to negotiate." He turned to Wang Wenwu, "What will the world look like then?"

Wang Wenwu thought, "Europe reduced to ruins, the great powers severely weakened. The United States……"

"So our opportunity lies here." Chen Feng's finger stopped at Southeast Asia, "Yingguo, Faguo, the Netherlands—their colonial systems in Asia are already cracking. The war has drained their strength and awakened the pride of the subjugated peoples. After the war, those colonies will demand greater rights, even independence."

He opened the third folder; inside were several brief memoranda:

"Contact Siam (Thailand), provide military aid in exchange for rubber and rice trade concessions."

"Support Vietnamese nationalists, but avoid over‑involvement, stay flexible."

"Establish secret contacts with leaders of the nationalist movement in the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia)."

"Explore direct trade with Australia and New Zealand, bypassing Yingguo."

Each item is bold, each fraught with risk.

"President," Wang Wenwu chose his words carefully, "Aren't these moves… too radical? If the colonial metropoles discover them, we'll become the target of everyone's arrows."

Chen Feng smiled: "Minister Wang, there's no need to worry; as Jiu said before, we're merely merchants—so long someone pays, we sell. How the colonized peoples choose to resist is their own business."

He moved to the window, watching the sky brighten outside: "Now we have a navy, we have industry, we have a seat at the international negotiating table. In short, we sell the weapons they dare to sell, and we even more aggressively sell the weapons they dare not sell. This is Lanfang!!!"

He turned, his gaze sharp: "Rebuilding the post‑war order is a once‑in‑a‑century reshuffling opportunity. If we merely sit on the sidelines waiting for others to deal the cards, we'll forever get the smallest share. But if we sit at the table, partake in the shuffling, in the dealing…"

He didn't finish, but Wang Wenwu understood.

"I understand." Wang Wenwu stood, "I'll have the Foreign Ministry begin covert contacts. Start with Siam; they've long sought to break free from Yingguo and Faguo's influence—a perfect Breakthrough."

"Very well." Chen Feng nodded, "But be cautious. All contacts must go through commercial channels under the guise of private companies. Formal diplomatic relations can wait until the situation clarifies."

The clock on the wall struck five. At five a. m., dawn began to break.

Chen Feng stepped onto the balcony, inhaling a breath of morning air. From the direction of Dubai Port came the whistle of a ship; a new day had begun.

"Minister Wang," he suddenly said, "how do you think history will judge us?"

Wang Wenwu was momentarily stunned, "Isn't it still too early to talk about that now?"

"Not early." Chen Feng gazed into the distance, "Every decision we make writes history. Today, in the North Sea, two fleets are deciding Europe's fate. And in Dubai, our decisions will decide Asia's future."

He turned, his face bearing a complex expression Wang Wenwu had never seen—ambition, worry, resolve, and a hint… of fatigue.

"Sometimes I wonder if we're moving too fast," Chen Feng whispered, "In just over a decade, we've gone from a desert to Southeast Asia's strongest navy. In twenty, fifty years—will we become a new great power? Will we become the very thing we once despised?"

Wang Wenwu was silent for a long while. Then he said, "President, I recall you once said—our nation was founded not for domination, but to give the Chinese a home where they wouldn't be bullied. As long as we remember that original intention, we won't lose our way."

Chen Feng looked at him, then laughed, "You're right. Thank you for reminding me."

He returned to his room, picking up the three folders, "Get to work. The storm is coming; we must reinforce the house."

"Understood."

After Wang Wenwu left, Chen Feng stood alone before the map. His finger brushed lightly over the North Sea region, as if he could feel the raging waves there.

Then he walked to his desk, drew a sheet of stationery, and began to write.

The recipient was Xi Yuan Si Gongwang.

"Lord Xi Yuan Si: I am pleased to hear of the great victory on the Eastern Front and extend my sincere congratulations. The mobilization of the fourth expeditionary force may proceed as originally planned, payable in three installments. Moreover, we have heard that your army province wishes to test a new individual combat tactic; we can provide tactical advisors and equipment support…"

He stopped his pen at that point.

The new individual combat tactic is essentially a prototype of a submachine gun. Lanfang Armory, based on Lanfang's existing MP18 design philosophy, developed a lighter, cheaper automatic weapon better suited for trench warfare. Testing requires "volunteers," and the Sakura Nation has plenty of "volunteers." (The small days…)

Chen Feng knew what that meant—more efficient killing, harsher casualties, a vastly larger trade volume!

Yet he still finished the sentence.

Because he needed data, needed combat feedback, needed the improvement suggestions earned by Sakura Nation soldiers' lives.

This is war, this is politics, this is reality.

Cruel, but real.

Chen Feng signed his name, sealed the letter, rang for the secretary.

"Send it out as a diplomatic cable. Also copy the Ordnance Bureau, have them prepare five hundred prototype guns and related ammunition, and ship them with the transport vessel of the third expeditionary force."

"Yes, President."

After the secretary left, Chen Feng went to the balcony, watching the sky fully illuminated.

A new day.

A new calculation.

New lives are about to vanish.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then he opened his eyes and returned to his desk.

There are still many things to do.

Can't stop.