Chapter 468: The Agreement and the Devil

"We… really have to do this deal?"

Chen Feng stopped, turned back and looked at him: "Minister Wang, how many unsavory deals do you think Lanfang has made since its founding? Selling warships to Deguo, selling warships to Yingguo, and now becoming a trafficker of lives."

He stepped closer, his eyes blazing: "But because we made those deals, Lanfang now has world‑class shipyards, a rising industry, forty million people who can eat, children who can go to school, and elders who can receive medical care. So tell me, is it worth it?"

Wang Wenwu opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"I don't like it either," Chen Feng lowered his voice, "but this is reality. In a world of the strong eating the weak, you either eat meat or become the meat. Lanfang chose to eat, so it must bear the price of eating—guilt, sleepless nights, and future scorn."

He looked up at the night sky as stars began to appear. Chen Feng had some things he couldn't say to Wang Wenwu: in another world, the Sakura Nation holds how much Han blood, and Earth's pressure is too great, the population too large, and now there is a reasonable opportunity……

"At least we've survived. And… we're living better and better."

Finishing, he strode away. His silhouette stretched in the garden lanterns, like a blade drawn from its sheath.

Tokyo, Prime Minister's Official Residence, September 15, 4 a. m.

Xiyuan Si Gongwang had been back from Borneo for twenty‑four hours, yet in those twenty‑four hours he had barely slept. The study lights stayed on, and Army Minister Da Dao Jianyi, Foreign Minister Jia Teng Gaoming, and Finance Minister Ruo Zhu Li Cilang, three core cabinet members, sat with him, their faces equally weary.

Two draft agreements lay spread on the table.

One is the Lanfang–Sakura Nation Food Trade and Transport Cooperation Agreement, abbreviated the "Rice Agreement." Its terms are generous: Lanfang will export three million tons of rice to the Sakura Nation each year at 70 % of the international market price, for five years. In return, all goods the Sakura Nation imports from Lanfang must be shipped by the Lanfang fleet.

The other is the Lanfang–Sakura Nation Labor Export and Military Cooperation Memorandum of Understanding, abbreviated the "Cao Xian Agreement." This is the real core and the point of contention.

"…Article 5, Clause 3," Finance Minister Ruo Zhu read from the draft, his voice hoarse, "Recruitment, training, and management of 'labor personnel' shall be the responsibility of the Sakura Nation government, with the Lanfang Republic providing necessary assistance. The safety, health, and food guarantees for 'labor personnel' during transport shall be handled by the Lanfang transport fleet, with costs deducted from the total remuneration."

He looked up: "'Labor personnel'… do they know this refers to people being sent to fight and die?"

"The wording has to be like that," Foreign Minister Jia Teng explained, "If we wrote 'soldiers' or 'mercenaries,' it becomes a state act and violates international law. By calling them 'labor personnel,' it can be interpreted as civilians voluntarily seeking work abroad, with the government merely 'assisting management.'"

Da Dao Jianyi continued: "The key is price. Three hundred and fifty thousand people, total cost seventy million pounds. Lanfang gets twenty‑eight million, we get forty‑two million. After deducting conscription, training, equipment, and transport costs, the net profit is about thirty‑five million."

He looked at Xiyuan Si: "Prime Minister, thirty‑five million pounds! That's enough to buy five million tons of rice, enough to feed the whole country for a year and a half!!"

Xiyuan Si closed his eyes: "What about the three hundred and fifty thousand lives?"

The study fell into dead silence.

After a long pause, Da Dao gritted his teeth: "Prime Minister, I know this sounds harsh, but… the lives of the Cao Xian people aren't the lives of Imperial subjects. In 1894 we won the First Sino‑Japanese War, in 1905 we won the Russo‑Japanese War, and what did we rely on? The sacrifice of Imperial soldiers! Now it's the Cao Xian who must sacrifice for the Empire."

He spoke with righteous conviction, as if it were a matter of natural law.

Xiyuan Si opened his eyes, looking at the officer: "Da Dao, would you dare say that publicly?"

Da Dao was at a loss for words.

"We can think that way in our hearts, but we cannot say it," Xiyuan Si said slowly. "The agreement must be signed, the people sent, the money taken. But at least… we must know what we are doing. We must know that, when history judges us one day, we will have no defense."

He picked up his pen and signed his name on the Cao Xian Agreement. His hand was steady, yet each stroke felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

"Notify the Lanfang side that we agree. But there are several additional conditions—"

He dictated, Jia Teng recorded:

"First, of the two hundred and fifty thousand people sent to Deguo, no more than fifty thousand may be native Sakura Nation soldiers. All officers and non‑commissioned officers must be Sakura Nation personnel."

"Second, the transport ships must fly the Lanfang flag and be designated as 'commercial cargo vessels.' If they are sunk by an Yingguo submarine, Lanfang must handle the compensation."

"Third, the weapons and equipment must be genuinely functional, not cobbled together from scrap. The price… can be renegotiated."

"Fourth," Xiyuan Si paused, "all 'labor personnel' must sign a 'voluntary overseas labor contract' before boarding, clearly stating the dangers they may face in Europe. We will retain these documents; they may be useful in the future."

Jia Teng quickly noted: "Understood. I'll draft the formal text right away."

"Wait." Xiyuan Si called him back, pulling a photograph from the drawer—a shot he took from the North Tower in Borneo, golden rice fields dazzling in the sun.

He placed the photo on the agreement.

"Add this to the file. If anyone later asks why we signed such an agreement…" his voice was barely audible, "just say… it's so the Empire's people can have food to eat."

Jia Teng's eyes reddened, and he bowed his head to take the photo: "Understood."

When the four left the study, dawn was already breaking. Tokyo streets filled with early risers, newspaper boys' bicycle bells, tofu shop hawkers, and ordinary life carried on.

They did not know that this very morning, a group thousands of miles away, strangers to them, had already had their fates sealed.

Xiyuan Si stood alone by the window, watching the sky brighten.

He recalled Chen Feng's final words: "History is written by the victors."

Then, can the Sakura Nation… become the victor?

He did not know.

All he knew was that if they didn't sign the agreement now, the Sakura Nation might lose even the right to write history.

A weak nation has no diplomacy, only… a precarious survival.

Cao Xian, Renchuangang, September 20, 1916, 5 a. m.

The sky remained deep blue, a thin gray‑white line just breaking on the sea surface. Port No. 3 was bathed in searchlight, surrounded by Sakura Nation garrison troops with loaded rifles; their bayonets glinted coldly in the light.

The pier was packed with a sea of people. Young men from fifteen or sixteen up to about thirty, clad in tattered hemp garments, barefoot or in straw sandals. They were bound in groups of ten by rope around their wrists, chained together like livestock, staring blankly at the massive ship moored at the berth.