Chapter 576: The Fool's Quarrel and the Prime Minister's Decision

Understood.

Night deepened. The Kun Dian Naval Base gradually fell silent, save for the footsteps of the patrol and the distant sound of waves.

In the cabin of the Spring Day Maru, Xi Yuan Si and Shan Ben were both awake. They sat at a small table, looking at the spread contract copy.

"After returning to Tokyo," Xi Yuan Si said, "the Army side will face a huge backlash. Gang Shi Zhi Zhu will not readily accept this outcome."

"Then let him accept," Shan Ben's voice was cold. "If the Army disagrees, the Navy will push forward alone. Without the Army's support, battleships will still be built; but without battleships, even if the Army fights well in Europe, the post‑war Sakura Nation will have no say."

Xi Yuan Si looked at Shan Ben and suddenly felt this Navy minister had become a stranger. That obsession with the Navy had already outweighed consideration for the nation's overall interests.

But he said nothing. With matters at this point, they could only move forward.

Outside the window, Borneo's night sky held no moon, only countless stars. Those stars stared coldly at the world, like history watching every decision—judging neither right nor wrong, merely recording the outcome.

And the outcome would need time to be proven.

Tokyo Bay, six in the morning.

February's cold wind blew from the depths of the Pacific, skimming the sea outside Yokohama Port, bringing a bone‑piercing damp chill. A thin mist, like a layer of milky gray gauze, enveloped the harbor, leaving only a vague outline of the distant Boso Peninsula. The dock lights blurred in the fog, turning into clusters of dim, yellow halos.

The Spring Day Maru and the Autumn Moon Maru, two passenger liners, slowly entered the harbor, their horns low and lingering, like weary travelers sighing at finally returning home. A group of people already waited on the dock—Navy Ministry officials, the Prime Minister's secretary, and a dozen or so reporters. Their faces were frozen pale, their breath forming mist in the cold air before quickly dissipating.

The ship docked. The gangway was lowered.

The first to step down was Xi Yuan Si Gong Wang. He still wore the deep‑gray kimono and black haori, but his expression was even more solemn than when he left. The sea breeze lifted his salt‑and‑pepper hair; he instinctively tightened his collar, his steps steady as he set foot on Sakura Nation's soil.

Following closely was Shan Ben Quan Bie. Unlike Xi Yuan Si's solemnity, this Navy minister's face bore an unmistakable excitement. He straightened his back, buttoning his officer's coat meticulously, and even deliberately slowed his steps as he descended the gangway, as if savoring this moment—the moment of returning with hope to rebuild the United Fleet.

"Sir, thank you for your arduous journey," the Prime Minister's secretary stepped forward and bowed.

"How is the domestic situation?" Xi Yuan Si asked, his voice hoarse—the continuous days at sea had left him exhausted.

"Relatively calm. But over at the Army Ministry…" the secretary lowered his voice, "Minister Gang seems to have already caught wind of some rumors; yesterday at the cabinet meeting he asked several times about the Navy's expansion budget source."

Xi Yuan Si gave a slight nod, saying little. He had anticipated this.

Shan Ben walked over, telling the awaiting Navy Ministry officials, "Issue the notice: an emergency meeting at ten a. m. in the Navy Ministry. All generals and department heads must attend without exception."

"Yes!" the officer stood at attention and replied, his eyes betraying unhidden anticipation. They read good news from Shan Ben's expression.

The motorcade left the dock, heading toward Tokyo's city center.

Through the car window, Yokohama's streets receded slowly. Most buildings along the roads were low and shabby, pedestrians sparse, many shops still unopened. Occasionally a long line formed before the recruitment office—young people in thin clothing shivering in the cold wind, awaiting medical exams and registration. Large posters plastered the walls: "Mobilize One Hundred Million Citizens" and "Defend the Imperial Nation's Glory".

"How is the mobilization progress?" Xi Yuan Si asked the secretary seated in the front row.

"As of yesterday, 450,000 people have been registered. But equipment is severely lacking; the Army Ministry reports that only one‑third of the new recruits can be issued rifles, the rest must train with bamboo spears."

"Bamboo spears…" Shan Ben sneered, "It's the twentieth century, yet still using Sengoku‑era gear. The Army's fools only know how to employ human wave tactics."

Xi Yuan Si gave him a glance, his eyes reproving: "Shan Ben, now is not the time for internal strife."

Shan Ben closed his mouth, but the disdain on his face did not fade.

The car passed the Sumida River, entering Tokyo's city area. The scene here was slightly better than Yokohama, yet the war's shadow was still felt—many shop shelves were empty, long lines formed before rice stores, pedestrians wore grim expressions. Occasionally, wounded soldiers in old uniforms staggered down the streets, some missing arms, others leaning on crutches.

"What about the civilian situation?" Xi Yuan Si continued to ask.

"Very difficult," the secretary's voice was low. "Rice prices have tripled, coal supplies are insufficient, many families cannot afford to burn coal in winter. Last month there were thirty‑seven rice‑theft riots, suppressed by the military police. Worker strikes are also rising, mainly because workers at military factories demand higher wages."

Xi Yuan Si closed his eyes and massaged his temples. He knew all these problems, yet each time he heard them, a wave of helplessness washed over him.

Sakura Nation was like a tightrope walker, having to maintain war mobilization while preventing societal collapse. And that tightrope was becoming thinner and more wobbly.

The car first entered the Navy Ministry compound.

When Shan Ben alighted, a group of Navy officers were already lined up at the gate to welcome him. Leading them was a slender, tall Major General in his fifties—the Director of the Navy Ministry's Personnel Bureau, Dao Cun Su Xiong.

"Minister, welcome back!" Dao Cun bowed, his eyes flashing with eager light. "Was the Borneo trip… successful?"

A smile finally appeared on Shan Ben's face. He patted Dao Cun's shoulder: "Gather everyone in the conference room. I have a good piece of news—a piece of news that can make the Sakura Nation Navy rise again."

He turned to Xi Yuan Si and said, "Sir, I'll go to the Navy Ministry first. Is the cabinet meeting this afternoon?"

"Two p. m.," Xi Yuan Si nodded. "Before that, I need to report to Your Majesty Tian Huang. You should also prepare; this afternoon you may have to face the Army's questioning."

"Let them question," Shan Ben said with arrogance. "As long as Your Majesty supports, as long as the Navy supports, the Army fools cannot stir up any wave."

After speaking, he strode into the Navy Ministry building. Officers swarmed around him like a host of stars cradling the moon.

Xi Yuan Si watched his back, sighing softly. Shan Ben's confidence was, to some extent, a good thing. Yet excessive confidence could exacerbate tensions.

"Go to the Prime Minister's Office," he told the driver.

The car restarted and headed toward Kasumigaseki.

Ten a. m., Navy Ministry Grand Conference Room.

The conference room, capable of seating two hundred, was packed. All officers of rank Major General and above were present, along with heads of each bureau and department. In the back rows, many Lieutenant Colonels and Colonels even stood, crowding together, craning their necks toward the podium.