Chapter 561: Berlin

The room contained only A Si Kui Si. He walked to the window and drew back the heavy curtains. Outside was a London winter night, dense fog spreading, the street lamps turning into vague halos in the mist.

He recalled 1900, the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria. At that time Yingguo was at its zenith, its fleet spanned the globe, colonies covered a quarter of the earth, and everyone believed the British Empire would rule the world forever.

Seventeen years later, a war left the empire teetering. Finances were on the brink of bankruptcy, the younger generation suffered heavy casualties, and colonial loyalty began to waver.

And new forces were rising—Meilika across the ocean, the mysterious Far‑East Lanfang, even the defeated Deguo was showing terrifying resilience.

The world was reshaping, the old order collapsing. And Yingguo, the former hegemon, had to find its new place among the ruins.

"God bless Yingguo," A Si Kui Si whispered.

But this time, his voice lacked the former confidence, containing only a deep, heavy plea.

Berlin, Wuyou Palace, three A. M.

Weiliang Ershi was not sleeping. He wore a nightgown, sat before the study fireplace, holding an Encrypted Telegram that had just arrived. The firelight cast flickering shadows on his face, making his expression even gloomier.

Field Marshal Tirpitz stood opposite him, equally sleepless. The seventy‑year‑old veteran looked especially aged today, yet his eyes remained sharp.

"Lanfang's warning is true," Weiliang Ershi said, putting down the telegram. "The Meilika are really about to enter the war."

"Intelligence from Washington has confirmed that Wilson will submit a memorandum to Congress within two days," Tirpitz said. "Within a week at the earliest, Meilika may formally declare war on Deguo."

"So Chen Feng failed."

"He did his best. But from the telegram we see he gave the advice we need," Tirpitz said, walking to the massive world map on the wall. "He believes that since Meilika's entry into the war is inevitable, we should adjust our strategy. We should not try to hard‑hold the Western Front against the American troops, but instead constrain the Allied Powers from other directions."

"Other directions? Where?"

Tirpitz's finger moved from Europe to Asia: "The Far East. Yingguo's core interests are not on the European mainland but in its colonies—India, Australia, Southeast Asia. If those areas are threatened, Yingguo would have to divert troops for defense, perhaps even ask American troops to send support."

Weiliang Ershi's eyes flashed briefly, then dimmed again: "But we lack the power to threaten Yingguo's Far East. The high‑seas fleet is blockaded in the North Sea, and the colonial fleet's Scale is too small…"

"Lanfang does," Tirpitz interrupted. "Chen Feng hinted in the telegram that if Deguo is willing to make sufficient concessions in technology (money) and interests, Lanfang can take 'more decisive action' in the Far East. Moreover, the Sakura Nation is mobilizing fifty divisions, over a million men. Though its equipment and training lag behind European armies, the sheer numbers are threatening."

Weiliang Ershi stood, walked to the map, and stared at the vast Asian and Pacific region.

"Do you think Chen Feng is serious? Will he really have Lanfang stand on our side?"

"He won't 'stand on our side'; he will stand on Lanfang's interests," Tirpitz corrected. "But if we can convince him that helping Deguo aligns with Lanfang's interests, he will act. And at present this logic holds—if Deguo is defeated, the post‑war world will be dominated by Britain and America, and a rising nation like Lanfang would be marginalized. If Deguo does not suffer a total defeat and can secure a decent peace, Lanfang will have more room."

Weiliang Ershi thought. As a monarch, he was accustomed to issuing direct orders rather than complex calculations of interest. But war had taught him—that in international politics, interests are more reliable than loyalty.

"What must we give?" he asked.

"Technology and funds," Tirpitz replied without hesitation. "Lanfang's greatest desire is technology—the latest chemical processes, aircraft engine designs, submarine technology, even… radio navigation and cryptography. These are all fields where we lead. In short, we can give him everything he wants!"

"But these are all military secrets!"

"If we lose the war, these secrets will be seized by the victors," Tirpitz said calmly. "And if we share them with Lanfang, we can gain their containment of Yingguo in the Far East, perhaps even obtain their direct assistance—supplies, equipment, maybe even their most advanced weapons."

Weiliang Ershi paced the study. The fireplace's glow stretched his shadow across the wall, like an anxious giant.

"The General Staff will oppose," Tirpitz said. "Xingdengbao and Ludengdaofu believe Deguo can rely on its own strength to win the war, or at least secure a favorable peace."

"They are wrong," Tirpitz said bluntly. "Your Majesty, forgive my bluntness, but the General Staff lives in a fantasy. They do not see our resources draining, the public's tolerance at its limit, nor the decisive impact Meilika Entry into War will bring. Chen Feng saw this, so he gave us this way out."

He stepped before Weiliang Ershi, his voice low and earnest: "Your Majesty, this is not surrender, it is a strategic adjustment. We acknowledge that a decisive victory on the Western Front is unattainable, so we open a new front. We trade technology for time, space for survival. If Lanfang can truly cause enough trouble in the Far East, Yingguo may be willing to negotiate—while it still has colonies to lose."

Vision. Tirpitz presented a vision similar to Chen Feng's—not total victory, but avoidance of total defeat; not conquest, but survival.

Weiliang Ershi walked to the window. Outside, Berlin's winter night was pitch black, only distant anti‑aircraft searchlights occasionally slashed the sky. This city, this nation, had paid too high a price for the war—two million dead or wounded, the economy on the brink of collapse, children starving, women laboring twelve hours a day in factories.

And if Meilika enters the war, all this suffering could become meaningless.

He recalled Chen Feng's final line in the telegram: "In a storm, a clever sailor does not sail against the wind but adjusts the sails, seeking a reachable harbor."

Perhaps it is time to adjust the sails.

"Send a reply to Chen Feng," Weiliang Ershi finally said, his voice bearing a calm after surrendering struggle. "Tell him Deguo is willing to discuss full‑scale technology cooperation. He may send a delegation to Berlin, or we can go to Dubai. But there is one condition—Lanfang must take substantive action in the Far East to contain Yingguo's power."

"What do you mean by substantive action?"