Chapter 61: The British Have Compromised

Du Buwa nodded. He understood the nuance: Faguo needs Lanfang's technology, but it does not need a Lanfang that is too powerful and might end up threatening Faguo. Yingguo is an enemy, but also a potential ally to balance Deguo.

"That afternoon's meeting…"

"I will tell them that the French Republic respects every nation's freedom of navigation and trade rights," De Erkasa said with a smile. "As for the matter between the Dutch and Britain, that is their business. Of course, if Britain is willing to show some 'flexibility' on certain issues—such as Morocco, or colonial borders—then perhaps we could… exert some positive influence."

Old fox. Du Buwa thought to himself. Yet he had to admit, this is diplomacy.

"By the way," De Erkasa suddenly asked, "any new news from Chen Feng's side? How does he react to the Mumbai matter?"

"No direct reports yet. But according to our people in Dubai, Lanfang is internally calm. Chen Feng seems to have foreseen all this, and may even… this is part of his plan."

"Part of the plan?"

"Sending the Restoration Ship to Mumbai is not only to break the blockade, but also to demonstrate power to Chinese people worldwide," Du Buwa said. "Minister, you may not know, India has nearly a million overseas Chinese, and the entire South Ocean has tens of millions. When these people see their nation's warship appear in Yingguo's most important colony…"

He paused, letting the weight of the words settle:

"Then it's no longer a matter of a warship. It's a signal, telling all overseas Chinese: the times have changed."

De Erkasa was silent for a long while.

"This Chen Feng… he wants more than a few ships, and more than that piece of land in the Persian Gulf," he said slowly. "What he seeks is the rebirth of a nation. And we, unknowingly, have become pieces on his board."

"But we also got what we wanted."

"Temporarily, yes," the minister nodded. "So this game, we must keep playing. Notify our ambassador in London about the afternoon meeting… the tone can be friendly, but the stance must be firm. France will not relinquish the advantage it has already secured, unless Yingguo offers a price we cannot refuse."

Off the coast of Mumbai

The Restoration Ship stopped one nautical mile outside the entrance to the main channel. The distance was close enough that people on shore could see details with the naked eye; yet far enough not to be regarded as a direct threat.

On the bridge, Li Te received a reply from the Indian Governor's Office. The telegram was lengthy and formally worded, but the core message was simple: permission to enter the port to replenish fresh water, provided the following fifteen restrictions are observed.

"They listed a checklist," Lin Hai handed the telegram to Li Te, unable to suppress a laugh. "From the number of people ashore to the activity area, from the duration of stay to communication limits… Yingguo really takes bureaucracy to the extreme."

Li Te skimmed quickly: "Accepted. Reply: Fully understand and respect your regulations. This vessel will berth at the designated dock, only taking on fresh water and necessary food supplies. Shore personnel will not exceed ten, activities confined to the dock area. Expected stay: twenty‑four hours."

"They agreed to it like that?" Lin Hai was somewhat surprised. "I thought they'd bargain…"

"The president once said, our purpose is not provocation, but demonstration," Li Te set the telegram down. "We have shown speed, we have shown firepower, now we must show discipline and professionalism. We need to let Yingguo see that we are not bandits, not pirates, we are a regular, disciplined navy."

He looked at the port drawing nearer outside the window:

"Moreover, sometimes obeying the rules is more powerful than breaking them. When we follow every one of their regulations yet still make them feel threatened, that threat becomes real and lasting."

The order was relayed. The Restoration Ship slowly entered the main channel, its massive hull casting a long shadow on the sea. On either side, countless small vessels—fishing boats, tour boats, merchant ships—gathered at a safe distance, their decks crowded with people.

There were Indians, Europeans, and even more Chinese.

They held telescopes, crude cameras, and some even brandished sketchbooks, hoping to record this historic moment.

"Dauntless" on the bridge

Abasnot watched the scene, a mix of emotions churning inside him. His fleet was stationed outside the main channel, under London's order to 'escort and monitor'. In reality, they could do nothing but watch the gray leviathan lumber into the empire's port.

"Sir, look at the shore," the artillery chief whispered.

Abasnot raised his telescope. On Mumbai's waterfront boulevard, tens of thousands of people had gathered. What unsettled him even more was the multitude of Chinese—well‑dressed, restrained—but each fixed their gaze on the Restoration Ship, their eyes filled with emotions too complex to describe.

That was not a gaze of mere curiosity.

It was a gaze of hope.

"We have lost," Abasnot lowered his telescope, his voice so soft only he could hear. "We didn't lose in a battle, but in a performance. The moment that ship entered Mumbai, the British Empire's myth of invincibility in Asia shattered."

He recalled Admiral Nelson's maxim: Britain expects everyone to fulfill their duties.

He had fulfilled his duty. His sailors had fulfilled theirs. They gave their all, chasing for over thirty hours, from the Persian Gulf to the Indian Ocean.

But sometimes, diligence cannot alter the outcome.

"Send the final report to London," he told the communications officer. "State… mission accomplished. Contact maintained, conflict avoided. However, the strategic objective… the strategic objective was not achieved. The opponent successfully displayed force and entered Mumbai Port. Recommend a full reassessment of Indian Ocean defense strategy."

"Yes, sir."

The telegram was sent. Abasnot knew his naval career might end here. As the first fleet commander to "fail to prevent an enemy warship from entering the empire's main port," his best outcome was early retirement.

But he did not regret it.

Because sometimes, admitting defeat requires more courage than pretending victory.

Mumbai Port, Pier Nine

The Restoration Ship slowly moored. Its massive hull nearly filled the entire deep‑water berth, the gray armor reflecting a stark gleam in the sun. On the dock, officials, military police, and port staff of the Yingguo colonial administration stood ready, but their expressions were less vigilant than… bewildered.

They had never seen a warship like this.

Never before had they dealt with such a "visit".

Li Te led nine officers and sailors down the gangway. They wore tidy dark‑blue uniforms, marching in step and bearing themselves properly. Leading the way, Li Te saluted the Yingguo port official who met them, then handed over a document.