Chapter 598: Sea Trial

Li Te entered the bridge while the technical team was conducting the final pre‑departure system integration; the radar screen glowed with a pale green light, the echo sweeping the sea and outlining the tug, port facilities and a distant tanker as flashing light dots. Beside the helm, two helmsmen performed a synchronized test—left rudder five degrees, then centered, right rudder five degrees. The hull did not move, but the path the rudder blade cut through the water was transmitted via the hydraulic system back to the helm, manifesting as a slight tremor in the hand.

"Commander." Colonel Zhou Zhen guo, the captain, stepped forward and stood at attention, saluting. (Earlier, the two Zhou Weiguo of the army and navy were an editor's mistake)

Li Te returned the salute.

No, it has already been officially named.

Two months ago, Chen Feng wrote two characters on a document reporting to the Presidential Office, using a fountain pen: Nagato.

There was no explanation. It was not named after a German historical figure like the Bismarck Class, nor after a Lanfang river like the Pearl River Class. Those two characters were like an unquestionable edict.

Li Te walked deeper into the bridge and stood at the portside window.

The Nagato's bridge has an excellent field of view. Forward 120 degrees is unobstructed, from the bow to the horizon fully in sight. He saw the tug slowly pushing the bow out of the dry dock, saw the workers of dry dock No. 3 standing at the dock edge waving, saw at the civilian piers of Dubai Port in the distance, several cargo‑ship sailors holding binoculars and looking this way.

"The undocking procedure is smooth," Zhou Zhen guo said beside him, his voice steady, "We expect to enter the main channel in fifteen minutes. The speed measurement zone is at bearing 175, Distance 22 nautical miles. The hydrographic department reports sea state level 2, wind from the northeast at six knots, suitable for high‑speed sea trials."

Li Te nodded.

He gave no orders. The commander of this ship is Zhou Zhen guo, not him. He was merely here to watch—watch the Lanfang navy's sharpest blade to date, cutting the Pacific's waters for the first time.

Footsteps came from behind.

Chen Feng walked onto the bridge.

He was not in a uniform. He wore that deep‑gray trench coat, its collar slightly open, revealing the white shirt collar underneath.

Anyone who saw him at first glance would not associate him with the word "navy"—he looked more like a university professor or an engineer from a large corporation.

Yet everyone on the bridge subconsciously straightened their backs.

Chen Feng nodded, saying nothing. He went to the porthole, stood beside Li Te, and watched the bow slowly sail out of the dock's shadow into the February morning light of the Persian Gulf.

Chen Feng nodded, saying nothing. He walked to the portside window, stood beside Li Te, watching the bow slowly emerge from the dry dock's shadow into the February morning light of the Persian Gulf.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

Li Te knew he was not asking himself. He was asking Zhou Zhen guo.

Zhou Zhen guo was silent for a few seconds.

"Report," he said, his voice steady, "Hull balanced. Engine condition stable. Radar, fire control, communications systems integrated normally. Crew—"

"The crew are a bit nervous. But that's not a bad thing."

"The crew are a bit nervous. But that's not a bad thing."

Chen Feng turned his head to look at him: "Why?"

"Nervousness shows they understand the weight of this ship," Zhou Zhen guo said, "Those who aren't nervous don't deserve to stand on this bridge."

Chen Feng nodded. He asked no further.

The sunlight had completely driven away the morning mist. The Persian Gulf's surface was like a vast, gently rippling blue silk, spreading from the bow in all directions until cut off by the distant horizon. The tug, outside the breakwater, cast off its lines, sounded its horn three times, and turned back to return.

The sunlight had fully dispelled the morning mist. The Persian Gulf's sea surface was like a vast, gently rippling blue silk, spreading from the bow in all directions until cut off by the distant horizon. The tug cast off outside the breakwater, blew its horn three times, and turned back.

For the first time, the Nagato sailed solely on its own power, navigating its own channel.

Chen Feng stood at the portside window, watching the bow cut the waves, dragging a slender white wake. He watched for a long time, long enough that Wang Wenwu thought he would not speak.

"Notify the engine room to accelerate gradually. Ten knots, fifteen knots, twenty knots. All sections report their operating conditions."

"Notify the engine room to accelerate gradually. Ten knots, fifteen knots, twenty knots. All stations report status."

The order was issued through the speaking tube. Deep within the hull, the engine speed rose, the vibration frequency shifting from a low hum to a steady low growl. The speedometer needle moved slowly—ten knots, twelve knots, fifteen knots.

The order was issued through the speaking tube. Deep within the hull, the engine revs increased, the vibration frequency shifting from a low hum to a steady low roar. The speedometer needle moved slowly—ten knots, twelve knots, fifteen knots.

The sound of the waves outside the portside window changed. It was no longer being split, but being torn.

Eighteen knots. Twenty knots.

Li Te stared at the speedometer. This was the cruising speed of a Bismarck Class, for the Nagato merely a warm‑up.

Zhou Zhen guo's voice came from the front of the bridge, tinged with uncontainable excitement: "Engine room report, main engine operating condition stable, all bearing temperatures normal. Expected to accelerate to over twenty-six knots." (Historically, the Nagato could only reach 26.5 knots)

Zhou Zhen guo's voice came from the front of the bridge, tinged with uncontainable excitement: "Engine room report, main engine condition stable, all bearing temperatures normal. Expected to accelerate to over twenty‑six knots." (Historically, the Nagato could only reach 26.5 knots)

He still stared out of the porthole, watching the bow split the waves, watching the horizon slowly, continuously slide toward the stern.

He continued to watch outside the portside window. Watching the bow cutting the waves, watching the horizon slowly, continuously sliding toward the stern.

Wang Wenwu stood behind him, suddenly recalling Hawaii.

That day he and Chen Feng stood at the portside window of the "Huaihe" and watched Pearl Harbor gradually disappear below the horizon. Chen Feng said, "What will the world be like the next time we meet?"

The world looks like this: Deguo's Bismarck is hunting in the North Atlantic, Meilika's Colorado class is about to lay its keel in the shipyard, and Xi Yuan Si Gong Wang of the Sakura Nation is debating the budget for fifty divisions on Capitol Hill.

The world looks like this: Germany's Bismarck is hunting in the North Atlantic, Meilika's Colorado Class is about to lay its Keel in the dry dock, and Sakura Nation's Saionji Kinmochi is debating the budget for fifty divisions on Capitol Hill.

And Lanfang's Nagato, on the Persian Gulf's sea surface, cuts the waves at twenty‑six knots, feeling the ocean's submission beneath the hull for the first time.

Wang Wenwu suddenly wondered: If She Er had known Lanfang possessed such a ship, would he still have sent that telegram?

He only knows that, at this moment, Chen Feng standing at the porthole has no pride, no excitement on his face. Only a deep, heavy calm.

All he knows is that Chen Feng, standing at the portside window now, has no pride, no excitement on his face. Only a deep, heavy calm.

Like a farmer standing in a harvested wheat field, looking at piles of grain, thinking not of the joy of a bountiful harvest but of next year's soil moisture, grain prices, taxes.

This is a sea area temporarily designated as a military exclusion zone, with water deeper than fifty meters, a flat seabed, no hidden reefs, no strong currents. The hydrographic department laid out buoy‑marked routes three days in advance, and the speed‑measurement zone is exactly five nautical miles long—enough for any battleship to complete a stable speed measurement at full speed.

This is a sea area temporarily designated a military exclusion zone, depth over fifty meters, seabed flat, no hidden reefs, no strong currents. The hydrographic department laid out buoy‑marked routes three days in advance; the speed measurement zone is exactly five nautical miles long—enough for any battleship to complete a stable speed measurement at full speed.

Zhou Zhen guo stood before the captain's command station, holding a stopwatch.

"All stations report."

"Engine room, main engine condition stable, full power sustainable."

"Hull, no abnormal vibration."

"Steering gear, response normal."

"Fire control, radar locked onto the target buoy."

Zhou Zhen guo took a deep breath and turned to Chen Feng.

【61】 The President stood at the portside window, back to the crowd, not turning around.

"Full speed," he said.

Zhou Zhen guo stood at attention: "Full speed!"

From the other end of the speaking tube, the duty officer in the engine room repeated the order: "Full speed—!"

The sound from deep within the hull changed.

It didn't get louder, it grew heavier. Like a sleeping giant finally opening its eyes, it let out its first low roar from deep within the chest cavity. The speedometer's needle began climbing from twenty‑six knots, twenty‑seven knots, twenty‑eight knots, twenty‑eight point three, twenty‑eight point five—

The sea outside the porthole began to blur. It wasn't fog—it was speed. The swell ahead of the bow was split in two, spraying outward to both sides, forming two parallel white ribbons along the hull.