Chapter 657: Press Conference!

At 2 p. m., on the Dubai harbor dock, Tirpitz stood there, watching the fleet in the distance slowly approaching.

Bismarck was at the front, Tirpitz at the rear. Between the two Deguo warships were two badly damaged Lanfang warships.

Huai River. Zhu Jiang.

Their condition made Tirpitz, the veteran marshal who had seen countless naval battles, unable to keep his eyes from reddening.

The bridge of the Huai River had been almost cut flat, leaving only a heap of twisted steel. The deck was riddled with shell holes and patches; the huge breach on the port side still leaked water, though temporary steel plates had sealed it. The mast was broken in half, and on the remaining section the Lanfang navy flag—red field with a golden dragon—still fluttered.

The Zhu Jiang was no better. Its bilge pump had burned out, water intake ran out of control, and it nearly sank. Deguo damage control team managed a last‑minute repair, pulling it back from the brink of death. Yet it remained afloat, still slowly sailing toward the harbor.

Behind Tirpitz stood Chen Feng, Wang Wenwu, Li Te, and a large group of Lanfang officers and workers.

No one spoke.

Everyone silently watched the four warships slowly dock.

Finally, Bismarck pulled up to Pier No. 3. The gangway lowered, and She Er was the first to step down.

He walked to President Chen, stood at attention, and saluted.

"President Chen," he said, "the German Imperial Navy Bismarck has fulfilled its orders. The Huai River and Zhu Jiang have been brought back."

President Chen returned the salute, then grasped his hand.

"General She Er," he said, his voice a little hoarse, "thank you."

She Er shook his head.

"No," he said, "it is I who should thank you."

He turned, pointing at the two Lanfang warships docking behind: "General Zhang is on board. He is wounded, but not seriously. Captain Zhou is also there. Their crew… 127 killed, 304 seriously injured."

President Chen closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then he opened his eyes and looked at the two warships.

"One hundred twenty‑seven," he repeated the number, his voice soft, "they will be remembered. I will remember them too."

He turned to Li Te and said, "Arrange the best hospitals, the best doctors. Save all the wounded at any cost."

Li Te stood at attention, "Yes!"

At 4 p. m., the Presidential Palace conference hall was packed with reporters.

Lanfang locals, Deguo, and neutral‑country representatives—and even a few Yingguo reporters—were stopped at the door, yet they crowded at the entrance, straining to peek inside.

President Chen stood at the podium, behind him a huge map of the Arabian Sea. The map was marked with red and blue pencils showing the positions of both sides in yesterday's battle.

Reporter Fang sat in the front row, clutching several rolls of film. He had been awake for twenty‑four hours, his eyes blood‑shot, yet he did not leave. He wanted to see the photos published and seen by the whole world.

President Chen spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "at 06:03 a. m. yesterday, the Lanfang Republic Navy's Huai River and Zhu Jiang, while conducting routine training in the Arabian Sea international waters, were attacked without declaration by twelve main ships of the Royal Navy."

The hall erupted in a roar.

Reporters frantically took notes, raised their hands to ask questions. President Chen waved his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet.

"I know you have many questions," he said, "so I have invited a few witnesses. They are the accompanying reporters!"

He turned aside, indicating that Reporter Fang should come up.

Reporter Fang stood, walked to the podium, placed the rolls of film on the table, opened one roll, pulled out a photograph, and held it up for everyone to see.

In the photo, the muzzle of the Yingguo flagship King George V was spouting fire. The shell had just left the barrel, the smoke still hanging.

"This is the moment at 06:03 a. m. yesterday when the Yingguo flagship King George V opened fire on the Huai River," Reporter Fang said, his voice hoarse yet clear, "the photographer is me."

He pulled out a second photograph.

In the picture, a shell was flying toward the Huai River; the camera captured its trajectory like a black lightning bolt.

"This is the British first‑round shell descending onto the Huai River."

The third photo shows the Huai River's bow struck, flames leaping up.

"This is the instant the Huai River was hit by the first shell."

The fourth, the fifth, the sixth.

One after another, each picture a moment, each picture evidence.

The hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The reporters stopped taking notes. They only stared at the photos, at the scenes, at the three‑hour bloodbath.

Reporter Fang pulled out the last photograph.

The picture showed Zhang Zhen leaning against a window frame, eyes closed, a smile at the corner of his mouth. His face was covered in blood, his uniform soaked, yet his expression was calm, as if he had just completed an inevitable task.

"This is General Zhang Zhen, captain of the Huai River, in the final moment before he was carried down from the bridge after the battle," Reporter Fang said, his voice trembling, "he commanded the Huai River for three hours, took eleven hits, lost 127 crew, yet he kept the ship alive."

He set the photo down, looking at the silent reporters below.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "this is the truth. The British Empire launched an undeclared attack, brazenly striking the neutral Lanfang warships. These photos are the evidence."

The hall was silent for three seconds.

Then the flashbulbs went off wildly.

Reporters rushed to the exits, to the telegraph office, to every place that could send out the news.

Tomorrow, these photos will appear in every newspaper in London, Paris, Berlin, New York, and Tokyo.

Tomorrow, the whole world will know the truth.

Tomorrow—

The war will enter a new stage.

At 6 p. m., the sunset was sinking into the Persian Gulf.

President Chen stood alone on Pier No. 3, watching the two battered Lanfang warships.

The Huai River lay quietly against the pier, the damage control team still busy on deck. Sparks from welding torches flickered in the sunset like golden rain. The Zhu Jiang was also under repair, workers cutting the warped steel plates, preparing to replace them.

In the distance, Bismarck and Tirpitz were also moored at the dock. Deguo sailors stood on deck, watching, saying nothing.

Footsteps came from behind.

Li Te walked to his side and also looked at the two warships.

"President," he said, "Reporter Fang has already sent out all the photos. Tomorrow, the whole world will see them."

Chen Feng nodded.

"The casualty figures are in," Li Te continued, his voice somewhat heavy. "The Huaihe ship lost eighty‑seven, with two hundred sixteen seriously injured. The Zhujiang ship lost forty, with eighty‑eight seriously injured. In total, one hundred twenty‑seven dead and three hundred four seriously injured."

Chen Feng was silent for a long time.

He stared at the two warships, at the busy workers on the decks, at the stretchers being carried down, at the bodies wrapped in white cloth.

"One hundred twenty‑seven people," he said softly. "They will be remembered. I will remember them too."

He turned and looked at Li Te.

"Give the families of the fallen soldiers double compensation," he said. "Their children will be raised by Lanfang. Their parents will be cared for in old age by Lanfang."

Li Te stood upright and said, "Yes!"

Chen Feng looked again at the two Deguo warships.

"Tell General She Er," he said, "to thank him for coming to the rescue. Tell him that Lanfang owes him a favor and will repay it in the future."

Li Te nodded, turned, and left.

Only Chen Feng remained on the pier.

He stood in the sunset, watching the two battered warships, the workers busily toiling, the bodies wrapped in white cloth.

In the distance, on the deck of the Bismarck, a Deguo sailor was saluting toward here.

Chen Feng saw it.

He raised his hand and returned the salute.

Then he turned and walked slowly toward the car waiting by the roadside.

Behind him, the Persian Gulf sunset was sinking into the sea.

Tomorrow will be another new day.

Tomorrow, the war will continue.

But today—

Today, Lanfang won.