Chapter 740: Did I Say That?

The fireworks in Dubai lasted a full hour.

When the last burst of fireworks faded from the night sky, only Chen Feng and Wang Wenwu remained on the terrace.

Xi Yuan Si Gongwang, Xinta and Aiha Maide had already gone back to rest. Tomorrow, they have more important matters to discuss.

Chen Feng stood there, watching the distant sea gradually calm.

Wang Wenwu walked to his side and handed him a cup of hot tea.

"President, you've been standing all night. Have a sip of tea and rest for a while."

Chen Feng took the cup but did not drink, just holding it in his hand.

"Minister Wang, have all the units set out?"

Wang Wenwu nodded.

"Over at Wang Guojian, forty thousand troops have crossed the border and are advancing toward Ge La De and Mo Ke Lan Port. Over at Li Te, the First Marine Division has begun landing at Karachi. Over at Shanben Yifu, 270,000 soldiers are pushing toward Dhaka. Over at She Er, they are still holding Kenpade Bay."

Chen Feng nodded.

He stared at the distant sea for a long, silent while.

"Minister Wang, you said, how long will this war in India last?"

Wang Wenwu thought for a moment.

"I don't know. But it shouldn't be long. The British have only 200,000 garrison troops in India, spread thin across the region. Our east‑west pincer will overwhelm them."

Chen Feng nodded.

"Exactly, they can't hold it. But failing to hold doesn't mean they'll surrender. The British will definitely make a last stand and buy time. They hope Ai Lun Bi can win in Egypt and then come to rescue India."

He paused.

"Unfortunately, Ai Lun Bi can't even protect himself."

Wang Wenwu was startled for a moment: "President, you mean—Zhao Dengyu's side?"

Chen Feng smiled.

"That old fox Zhao Dengyu may only have 120,000 men, but his key is mobility—he has five hundred tanks and over a thousand trucks and jeeps. If he can't crush the British, he can simply withdraw in place, and then India becomes an isolated island. Jieli Ke's fleet can't break out, the British Army can't hold, and India will be lost."

Wang Wenwu took a deep breath.

"President, you had long anticipated that the British would mass a great army in Egypt?"

Chen Feng looked at him.

"Minister Wang, you've followed me this long and still don't understand me?"

He turned and gazed at the distant sea.

"Anything the British can think of, I can think of. Anything they can't think of, I can think of as well."

In the distance, the sea surface began to turn pale. Dawn was approaching.

Chen Feng watched the sky gradually brighten and said softly:

"Minister Wang, a new year has begun."

Wang Wenwu nodded.

"Indeed, President. A new year, new hope. By the way, President, you mentioned supporting Sakura Nation's bid for a permanent seat on the council!"

Chen Feng shook his head.

"Did I say that? I only said the blood of Sakura Nation's soldiers should not be shed in vain!"

He turned and walked back into the house.

Reaching the doorway, he suddenly stopped, turned back, and gave Wang Wenwu a glance.

"Minister Wang, remember today. Today is the day Lanfang begins to change the world."

The door closed.

Wang Wenwu stood alone on the terrace, watching the sky grow brighter in the distance.

He recalled Chen Feng's words just now.

"Lanfang begins to change the world today."

Indeed, from today onward, the world truly changed.

Changed, and it can never return.

February 9, 1918, the Chinese New Year.

That day, Dubai's fireworks lit the night sky.

That day, forty thousand Lanfang soldiers crossed the Yilang-India border.

That day, Lanfang marines landed at Karachi.

That day, Sakura Nation's 270,000 troops advanced toward Dhaka.

That day, Deguo's fleet blockaded Mumbai Port.

That day, the world began to change.

On the distant sea, the sun was rising.

Golden sunlight spilled over the Persian Gulf, over the massive warships, over the rising city.

February 10, 1918, fifty kilometers east of the Yilang-India border.

The sun had just risen from the horizon, scorching the entire desert. Golden dunes rolled endlessly like a solid sea. No wind, no clouds, no hint of green—only boundless yellow sand stretching to the skyline.

Wang Guojian stood on a jeep, holding a binoculars and looking ahead.

Sunlight struck the sand, reflecting a blinding glare. He squinted, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and kept watching.

Deputy Officer Chen Dali stood beside him, cradling a military map marked in red with two attack routes—one toward northeast Ge La De, the other toward southeast Mo Ke Lan Port.

"Division Commander, Ge La De is 180 kilometers from the border. At the current speed, we can reach it by tomorrow afternoon," Chen Dali said, pointing at the red circle on the map.

Wang Guojian lowered the binoculars and nodded.

"What about over at Mokelan Port?"

"Colonel Yang Guoyan is leading the team and can also arrive by tomorrow afternoon. The Yingguo troops have few garrisons at both locations: Ge La De has eight hundred men, Mokelan Port has twelve hundred. They are all Indian soldiers, with average combat ability."

Wang Guojian's mouth twitched slightly upward.

"Eight hundred? Twelve hundred? Not even enough to fill the gap between our teeth."

He turned and looked at the marching troops behind him.

Over a hundred tanks were arranged in dozens of Columns, moving at full speed. Their tracks churned the sand, raising clouds of dust that swirled like yellow dragons crawling across the desert. Tank crews stuck half their bodies out of the turrets, their faces wrapped in sand‑proof scarves, exposing only their eyes.

Hundreds of trucks followed behind, packed with soldiers. The soldiers were jostled and leaned sideways, yet none complained—they knew this was a race against time.

Further back were the artillery units, each 105‑mm howitzer being towed by a truck, kicking up a trail of dust.

Wang Guojian leapt down from the jeep and walked to the roadside.

A tank rolled past him, the sand‑laden tracks slashing his face. He didn't dodge; he simply stood there, watching the steel behemoths pass one after another.

Chen Dala chased up, shouting loudly, "Colonel! Why are you standing here? It's all dust!"

Wang Guojian gave no reply. He just stared at the tanks and the soldiers, his eyes flashing.

"Chen Dala," he asked suddenly, "do you know how much these tanks are worth?"

Chen Dala was momentarily stunned, "I don't know."

"A Type‑2 tank costs eighty thousand silver coins. Over a hundred of them total more than ten million," Wang Guojian said softly, each word clear. "The President spent over ten million just so we could stand here today."

He turned and looked at Chen Dala.

"So, we can't lose."

From afar came a rapid engine roar. A three‑wheeled motorcycle sped forward from ahead and halted at the roadside. A scout leapt off, ran over, and saluted.

"Colonel! Toward Ge La De! The British Army has no defenses at all! Their sentries are still dozing, not even posting a watch!"