Chapter 447: William Is Ecstatic!

Enwei Er Pasha's face turned ashen, his fingers clenched tightly around the hilt of his saber. Halimu Pasha stared at the draft, his eyes calculating rapidly.

Ten divisions! If we could truly equip ten modern divisions, plus tanks… perhaps we could indeed hold the front and even launch a counter‑offensive. A five‑million‑pound loan… could alleviate the domestic famine. And what we would pay is a swath of empire that has long slipped from control and is about to be seized by Yingguo.

From a purely utilitarian calculation, this is not a loss.

But from national sentiment, imperial dignity, historical responsibility… this is humiliation. It is drinking poison to quench thirst. It is admitting the empire is so weakened that it must trade territory for survival.

"If…" Halimu Pasha's voice rasped, "What if we refuse?"

Chen Feng did not answer directly, but looked toward Weilian Ershi: "Your Majesty, if the Osman Diguo front collapses, how many troops can the Russians redeploy to the eastern front? And how many can the Yingguo redeploy to the western front?"

Weilian Ershi's expression changed. Fa Jinhan immediately replied: "At least thirty divisions. The Russians can pull fifteen divisions from the Caucasus, and the Yingguo can pull fifteen divisions from Mesopotamia and Palestine. If these forces are committed to the eastern or western front…"

He did not finish, but the meaning was clear: if Osman Diguo collapses, Deguo's pressure doubles.

The German Emperor finally spoke, his voice low and authoritative: "Pashas, I know this decision is difficult. But consider—preserving a few nominal frontier provinces, or preserving the empire's core? Clinging to hopeless dignity, or accepting reality to exchange for survival and the possibility of revival?"

He rose, walked to the Osman Diguo flag, his fingers lightly brushing the crescent: "My grandfather, Weilian Yishi Emperor, once said: politics is the art of possibilities. Now, possibilities lie before you. Lanfang has offered aid, protection, even… a dignified way to retain the nominal sovereignty of these regions."

Enwei Er Pasha also stood, meeting the German Emperor's gaze: "Your Majesty, you stand here urging us to cede territory. But if one day someone demanded Prussia cede the Rhineland, cede Alsace, would you agree?"

The question was sharp. Weilian Ershi's expression darkened.

But the reply came not from the German Emperor, but from Chen Feng: "Pasha, that question is inappropriate. Deguo faces no risk of Yingguo forces occupying the Rhineland, whereas Osman Diguo faces the reality of Mesopotamia being occupied. We are not discussing ceding land, but choosing between loss and partial retention."

He paused, his tone growing more severe: "Moreover, I must remind everyone—time is short. Yingguo has amassed eight divisions on the Sinai Peninsula, ready to strike Gaza at any moment. The British‑Indian forces in Mesopotamia are at a Distance of only one hundred kilometers from Basra. And Osman Diguo's Ninth Group Army in Palestine has only five under‑strength divisions; the Mesopotamian Group Army is besieged at Kourt, on the brink of starvation."

Each sentence struck like a hammer upon the Osman representative's heart.

Halimu Pasha closed his eyes. Sweat ran down the edge of his forehead, soaking the brim of his fez. After a long pause, he opened his eyes and looked at Chen Feng: "President, if… if we agree, how will Lanfang guarantee that Yingguo will not object? How will it ensure these regions are not directly occupied by Yingguo?"

Chen Feng had been waiting for exactly that question.

"First, after the agreement is signed, Lanfang will immediately dispatch a 'Security Force' into the concession area to establish a factual presence. This force will fly the Lanfang flag, clearly marking the zone as a bilateral cooperation area."

"Second, Lanfang will formally notify Yingguo, declaring that these zones are under Lanfang's development and security responsibility, and any military action will be deemed an infringement on Lanfang's interests."

"Third," Chen Feng's gaze deepened, "I will personally confer with the King of Yingguo, explaining that this is for 'regional stability,' to prevent the Middle East from collapsing entirely and sparking greater turmoil. And Yingguo… at present most needs to avoid a clash with another great power on a secondary front."

He concluded: "Of course, the prerequisite is that Osman Diguo must demonstrate the resolve and capability to continue fighting. If the empire collapses first, all agreements will become worthless."

Halimu Pasha inhaled deeply, looking at Enwei Er. The two highest Osman decision‑makers locked eyes, communicating silently. In Enwei Er's eyes lay humiliation and resentment; in Halimu's, resignation and reality.

Finally, Enwei Er Pasha sank into his seat, hands covering his face. Halimu Pasha turned to Chen Feng, his voice hoarse and weary:

"We need… to consult His Highness the Sultan."

Chen Feng nodded: "Understood. But please act swiftly, because—"

He looked out the window, where the setting sun was sinking westward, staining the Bosphorus Strait crimson.

"—The sunset will not wait for those who hesitate."

The meeting recessed temporarily. Deguo and Lanfang representatives remained in the hall, while the Osman Diguo delegates hurried out to report to the ailing Sultan.

Weilian Ershi walked to Chen Feng's side, whispering: "You negotiate well, President. You've offered the carrot and brandished the whip."

Chen Feng bowed slightly: "Your Majesty, you flatter me. I merely state the facts. Facts are often the most persuasive, and isn't that also what Your Majesty wishes to see!"

"Heh…" William had long wanted to pull Lanfang into this; if Yingguo were to strike Lanfang's troops on the Sinai Peninsula… but William concealed his thoughts then, returning to the pressing issue: "When can we begin training our soldiers?"

"Within a week after the agreement is signed, technical data can be dispatched. Instructor teams can arrive in Deguo within two weeks," Chen Feng replied, "but Your Majesty, please be mentally prepared—new weapons require new tactics, which need time to learn and integrate. The war cannot be turned around next month."

"I understand." Weilian Ershi looked westward, toward Europe, "but at least… there is hope. Since Verdun, Deguo's army has not seen genuine hope for a long time."

Fa Jinhan came over, handing Chen Feng a document: "Here is our preliminary list of technology exchanges—Krupp's carburized armor steel, BASF's synthetic ammonia process, Zeiss's optical sight patents… Please see if they are valuable."

Chen Feng took it, scanning quickly. A slight tremor rose within him—these are treasures of Deguo's industry, impossible to export in peacetime. War truly changes everything.

"Very valuable," he admitted honestly, "Lanfang is willing to trade a complete tank‑technology data package for these."

"That's settled then." Weilian Ershi extended his hand, "Deguo and Lanfang, each taking what they need."

Their hands clasped. One empire desperate to break the stalemate, one late‑comer yearning for technology, in this Osman Diguo palace, forged a deal that would alter the course of the war.

Outside, the sunset fully sank into the strait, and night fell over Istanbul.

In this city that has witnessed the rise and fall of Rome, Byzantium, and Osman Diguo, another world‑shaping transaction is about to be concluded.

Only this time, the participants include faces from the East.