Chapter 429: Cairo Meeting 2

Li Te ordered to do so. The two fleets, representing a rising and an ancient maritime power, formed a strange and silent formation on the summer Mediterranean Sea, sailing toward the Egyptian coast.

In the cabin of the "Huaihe", Chen Feng stood by the porthole, watching the Yingguo battleship sailing alongside outside. Wang Wenwu stood beside him, holding a thick folder.

"The Yingguo's position is not small," Wang Wenwu said.

"They need to display the empire's majesty," Chen Feng said calmly, "especially when facing a country that might challenge their status. However…"

He turned, walked to the table and sat down: "That's not a bad thing for us. The more they value it, the more valuable our chips are. At the negotiating table, fear and desire are both tradable emotions."

Wang Wenwu opened the folder: "According to your instructions, the technical team has prepared all the data. The complete technical specifications of the Hood Class, the detailed description of the Jianghe Class destroyer, and… the part on the anti‑submarine warfare system you specifically requested."

"What the Yingguo are most troubled by now are submarines," Chen Feng took the documents and skimmed quickly, "Keluozé's wolf pack tactics are beginning to show their power; in July Yingguo merchant ships suffered the highest losses since the war began. If we can provide effective anti‑submarine measures, they will be willing to pay a higher price." (Deng Nizi hasn't matured yet)

"But giving them advanced technology, would that…"

"What we give is not core technology," Chen Feng shook his head, "it's application‑level items: the improved model of the acoustic horn, the deep‑water bomb launch system, the optimized escort tactics. These can alleviate their pressure but won't change the fundamental technological balance. Moreover—"

He lifted his head, a calculating glint in his eyes: "—These items, Deguo will soon also gain experience on the battlefield. Rather than let the Yingguo figure them out on their own, we can sell them to them, make a profit, and cause them to become dependent on our technology in anti‑submarine warfare."

Wang Wenwu realized: "Just as you said before, we need to make them 'need sharper claws,' and those claws must be bought from us."

"Right," Chen Feng closed the folder, "prepare a bit; after arrival tomorrow, rest for half a day first. The meeting is scheduled for the evening; the Yingguo like to have important talks after dinner, so we will accommodate their habit."

"What about the negotiation bottom line?"

"The bottom line is clear," Chen Feng stood up and walked back to the porthole. Outside, the massive hull of the "Malayia" glimmered with a dark gray metallic sheen in the sunlight.

"First, the debt must be offset with a battleship; this is an established fact, not open to negotiation.

"Second, the additional destroyer can be priced negotiably, but must be paid with gold or dollars; we do not accept pound bonds.

"Third, regarding the Sakura Nation issue, we must leave a foreshadowing but cannot make any concrete commitments.

"Fourth…" he paused, "we need to make the Yingguo understand that Lanfang can be their stabilizer in the Far East, not a troublemaker. But this 'stabilizer' needs regular 'oilings'."

Wang Wenwu recorded quickly: "Understood. But President, I have a question. If we do business with both sides simultaneously, won't it backfire? If Deguo and Yingguo reconcile and join forces against us…"

Chen Feng smiled, his smile carrying a composure that seemed to see through the course of history.

"Minister Wang, have you read European history? What has been the Yingguo's continental policy for three centuries?"

"Balance. To prevent any single European continental country from becoming dominant."

"Right," Chen Feng nodded, "so even if Deguo is currently defeated, the Yingguo will not allow France or Russia to dominate Europe. They will support Deguo to balance the victors. In this process, Deguo needs reconstruction, funds, technology… what else does it need?"

Wang Wenwu's eyes lit up: "It needs our products."

"Not just products, also markets, also resources." Chen Feng looked into the distance, where Africa's coastline was faintly visible, "The postwar world will be reshuffled. Old empires are scarred, emerging nations yearn to rise. And Lanfang must secure a favorable position in that new world. Every deal we make now, every board we set, is preparation for that day."

He turned, his gaze firm: "So there's no need to worry about them joining forces. As long as we can continuously supply them with things they need but cannot produce themselves, and as long as we can keep them mutually restrained, Lanfang will always have space to survive and develop."

Wang Wenwu took a deep breath, feeling something stir in his chest. It was the thrill of taking part in shaping history, and also the weight of facing enormous responsibility.

"I understand, President."

"Go prepare." Chen Feng looked out the window again, "Tomorrow we will meet a king. And before that…"

His voice lowered, as if speaking to himself:

"Let the world see how a battleship from the East sails into the empire's core seas."

Cairo, Montaza Palace, August 13, 1916, 7:30 p. m.

Night fell over the Nile Delta, and Cairo's lights flickered in the tropical night sky. The Montaza Palace in the east of the city, originally Hediff's summer residence, now serves as the residence of the Yingguo Egyptian High Commissioner. This complex, blending Ottoman, Moorish and European styles, glowed with gilded splendor under carefully arranged lighting.

The palace's main hall was temporarily arranged as a meeting venue. A long mahogany dining table was covered with a white linen cloth embroidered with gold thread; silver candlesticks held flickering candles that reflected in polished crystal goblets and gilt cutlery. Portraits of Queen Victoria and the current King George V hung on the walls, and in a corner, royal guard soldiers in red uniforms and bear‑skin hats stood motionless like statues.

On the balcony outside the hall, George V stood with his back to the hall, gazing at the night‑lit Nile in the distance. The fifty‑one‑year‑old king wore a Royal Navy admiral's uniform, its deep‑blue wool adorned with medals, yet his expression resembled not a banquet‑attending monarch but a general about to enter battle—forehead creased, lips pressed, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the scepter.

Behind him, Foreign Minister Sir Edward Gray and Egyptian High Commissioner Sir Henry McMahon whispered to each other.

"…Chen Feng's flagship arrived at Alexandria Port early this morning," McMahon reported. The fifty‑eight‑year‑old diplomat, seasoned by years in India and Persia, said, "The Huaihe, a Bismarck Class third‑ship. Our naval officers boarded for a ceremonial visit and brought back some… unsettling observations."

George V did not turn around: "Speak."