Chapter 441: Lanfang

"Understood."

"Wang Wenwu, intelligence on the German and Osman Diguo delegations."

Wang Wenwu opened another file: "On the German side, the representative is Chief of Staff Erich von Fajinhang himself. Wilhelm II originally wanted to send a special envoy, but Fajinhang insisted on coming personally—pressure on the Western Front is too great, he urgently needs a Breakthrough method. Accompanying him are the Director of the Ordnance Bureau, the Army Technical Director, and… a mysterious individual whose identity our intelligence has not yet confirmed."

"On the Osman Diguo side, nominally the War Minister Enweier Pasha leads the team, but the real decision‑maker is Grand Vizier Saeed Halim Pasha. Sultan Muhammad V is gravely ill, and actual power rests in these two men. Enweier is radical, hoping to rescue the empire through military adventurism; Halim is pragmatic, knowing the empire needs compromise."

Chen Feng pondered briefly: "So there is internal dissent within Osman Diguo. Enweier may be unwilling to cede territorial rights, while Halim may be more realistic. Which side will the Germans take?"

"Fajinhang only cares about the Western Front," Dai Yunong analyzed, "as long as he can keep Osman stable, letting the Turks continue to check Russia and Yingguo, he doesn't mind ceding some 'peripheral territories.' Moreover, Mesopotamia is too far for Deguo and holds no real value."

"Good." Chen Feng stood up and walked to the electronic display. The screen lit up, showing a three‑party relationship diagram of the Istanbul talks and the projected outcomes of various possibilities.

"Now the objectives are clear." His voice echoed in the strategy room, "At the Istanbul talks, we must achieve three results:

"First, sell tanks to Deguo, sign a long‑term R&D contract, and embed Lanfang's defense industry deeper into Deguo's war machine. The price is negotiable, but payment must be in gold, technology patents, and post‑war trade privileges.

"Second, sign a 'Military Assistance and Resource Development Agreement' with Osman Diguo. In exchange for arming ten modern army divisions, we obtain long‑term concession rights to parts of Mesopotamia and the Persian Gulf coastline. Note, this is not cession but a concession—we acknowledge Osman's nominal sovereignty, but we will control resource extraction and security.

"Third, and most critical—" Chen Feng turned, his gaze sweeping the room, "—we must create a situation where Lanfang's involvement can establish a 'firewall' in the Middle East, preventing Yingguo from further dismembering Osman Diguo. This aligns with Deguo's interests (preserving an eastern ally), with Osman Diguo's interests (survival), and even… to some extent with Yingguo's interests (avoiding direct clash with Lanfang and focusing on Deguo)."

Wang Wenwu recorded quickly, his brow furrowed. "President, this sounds… overly idealistic. How could Yingguo tolerate us entering their sphere of influence?"

"Because time is on our side." Chen Feng returned to his seat. "What does Yingguo fear most now? A Deguo Breakthrough on the Western Front, us fully siding with the Germans, or a domestic revolution. Under these three pressures, a nation like Lanfang—far from Europe, not an immediate threat to India, and possibly able to stabilize the Middle East—is not a high priority."

He paused, his tone deepening. "Remember, great‑power games are not black and white but a mosaic of countless gray zones. What we must occupy is that gray area—neither wholly hostile nor wholly friendly, but temporarily useful to you. In that zone we can grow, expand, and wait for a better moment."

The strategy room fell silent. Everyone realized the President was painting an extremely complex, extremely dangerous picture. Yet it was undeniable that it was also an alluring vision—if successful, Lanfang would leap from a regional power to a global player.

"Finally," Chen Feng glanced at his pocket watch, "once I depart, domestic work proceeds as usual. Minister Liu, accelerate the design of the new battleship; I want to see a model by year‑end. The army expansion plan continues, but pace it to avoid attracting excessive external attention. Minister Wang, maintain a policy of 'constructive ambiguity' in diplomacy, answering any probe with 'Lanfang is willing to contribute to world peace.'"

He folded the documents, stood up: "Any other questions?"

Wang Wenwu hesitated, then asked, "President, if… if Yingguo truly spares no expense to stop us? If the Istanbul talks collapse and even turn into confrontation?"

Chen Feng was silent for a few seconds. Then he walked to the wall, his finger lightly touching Lanfang's spot on the world map—a ruby‑bright mark among the Southeast Asian islands.

"Minister Wang, do you know what we had when Lanfang was founded?" he asked, without waiting for an answer. "A desert, hundreds of thousands of starving immigrants, and a world that doubted us. Yet we built ports, factories, a navy, and this nation."

He turned, his gaze blazing. "Because we never place hope in others' mercy, only in our own strength and calculations. If Yingguo truly chooses confrontation, then so be it. But they will find that, a ten‑thousand‑kilometer‑away Asian land with a world‑class navy, rapid industrialization, and no retreat, makes the cost of confrontation unbearable."

He concluded, "That is the essence of deterrence—not that you can win, but that the opponent believes they cannot win, or that winning is too costly. Now we must go to Istanbul and tell everyone this new deterrence equation."

Finishing, Chen Feng strode out of the strategy room. In the corridor, guards stood at attention and saluted. Outside, Dubai Port glittered in the afternoon sun, the silhouettes of the Dingyuan and Zhenyuan rising like two steel peaks, silently towering between sea and sky.

At exactly four p. m., Chen Feng boarded the express train bound for Istanbul.

On the westbound train, 9 p. m., August 18, 1916.

The rhythmic clatter of wheels against rails echoed through the night. The express comprised eight cars: Chen Feng's carriage sat in the middle, flanked by a guard car at each end, the remaining cars holding staff, communications gear, and a specially reinforced freight car loaded with classified documents. The train thundered west at 80 km/h, the window revealing the endless desert of the Arabian Peninsula, where under moonlight the dunes stretched like frozen waves.

Inside Chen Feng's carriage, the interior was meticulously arranged. The front half served as an office, with a desk, filing cabinets, a safe, and a massive fold‑out map table; the rear half housed a bedroom and a simple restroom. Walls were lined with sound‑absorbing material, the carpet thick, lighting soft. It was less a carriage than a mobile command post.

At that moment, Chen Feng sat at the desk, a detailed map of the Osman Diguo empire spread before him, especially the Mesopotamia and Persian Gulf coastal regions. He marked it with red and blue pencils, with a geological survey report, tribal distribution map, Yingguo military deployment map, and a freshly translated encrypted telegram lying nearby.

The telegram originated from the London‑based "Deep Throat": "The Yingguo cabinet discussed the Middle East today. The Army Department pushes for a hard line, the Navy Department worries about a two‑front war, the Foreign Ministry leans toward limited compromise. The split is clear; no consensus reached. Key figures: Lord Kichina's stance is ambiguous, Sir Gray favors negotiations, the King remains silent."