Chapter 764: Australia Changes Hands

That night, within Melbourne city.

The British Army's temporary command post was set up in a three‑story building that had once been a bank. Antennas were mounted on the roof, sandbags piled below, and two armed sentries stood at the doorway.

Commodore Mai Ke Fu Sen sat in the office, a map spread before him. He hadn't slept in two days, his eye sockets sunken, stubble bristling messily, yet his eyes still shone.

Chief of Staff pushed the door open, his face ashen.

"General, the scouts report that Lanfang forces are fifty kilometers outside the city. At least twenty thousand, with tanks, artillery, and trucks."

Mai Ke Fu Sen nodded.

"I know."

Chief of Staff hesitated.

"General, we have only five thousand. Can we hold it?"

Mai Ke Fu Sen looked at him, silent for three seconds.

"Even if we can't hold, we must hold. We are Yingguo soldiers."

Chief of Staff lowered his head.

Mai Ke Fu Sen stood, walked to the window. Outside, Melbourne's night was deep; the distant streets were empty, not a single silhouette. The citizens stayed indoors, too afraid to emerge.

He suddenly recalled his first arrival in Australia ten years ago. Then he was a young captain, dispatched here for garrison duty. Melbourne at that time was bustling, streets filled with horse‑drawn carriages and pedestrians. He had thought the land would forever belong to Yingguo.

Ten years later, the Lanfang came.

He whispered, "Tell the soldiers: tomorrow, prepare for a fight to the death."

Chief of Staff was stunned.

"General?"

Mai Ke Fu Sen turned and looked at him.

"We have no reinforcements. No supplies. No retreat. Only a fight to the death."

Chief of Staff was silent for three seconds, then stood at attention and saluted.

"Yes, General."

He turned and left.

Mai Ke Fu Sen stood alone by the window, watching the pitch‑black night outside.

He thought of his wife and daughter far in Yingguo. They were still waiting for his return home.

But he knew he would not return.

Dubai, the Presidential Palace.

The next morning, Sai Xi Er walked into the reception hall again.

This time, his back was not as straight. The arrogant glint in his eyes had dimmed considerably.

Chen Feng sat in the head seat, watching him.

"Mr. Sai Xi Er, have you thought it through?"

Sai Xi Er inhaled deeply.

"President, Yingguo is willing to make the greatest concession."

Chen Feng said nothing.

Sai Xi Er continued.

"Self‑governance for India, independence for Burma, Malaya and Singapore to Lanfang. Those are acceptable. But Australia…"

He paused.

"Australia can be placed under Lanfang's trusteeship. Yet sovereignty must remain Yingguo's."

Chen Feng looked at him, his gaze calm.

"Trusteeship? Mr. Sai Xi Er, do you think I would agree?"

Sai Xi Er clenched his teeth.

"President, this is Yingguo's final bottom line. Australia can be handed to you for administration; you may station troops, develop resources, control everything. But in name, it remains Yingguo territory. That way we can account for it domestically and preserve a sliver of dignity before the world."

Chen Feng was silent for three seconds.

Then he stood, walked to the window.

"Mr. Sai Xi Er, do you know what 'dignity' means?"

Sai Xi Er said nothing.

Chen Feng turned and looked at him.

"Dignity is the last bit of face the winner leaves to the loser. It is not something the loser earns on his own."

He walked back to his seat and sat.

"You have fought in Yazhou for a hundred years, seized for a hundred years, killed countless people, shed endless blood—you know it yourself. Now you've lost and seek dignity?"

He shook his head.

"Dignity isn't obtained that way."

Sai Xi Er's complexion turned ashen.

At that moment, Wang Wenwu pushed the door open and whispered a few words into Chen Feng's ear.

Chen Feng nodded, then said to Sai Xi Er.

"Mr. Sai Xi Er, we have just received word. Our Fifth Division has already arrived beneath Melbourne city. At first light tomorrow, we will launch the offensive."

Sai Xi Er's body swayed, nearly toppling.

Chen Feng looked at him.

"Tell me, how long can your five thousand hold?"

Sai Xi Er opened his mouth but could not utter a single word.

Chen Feng stood up.

"Mr. Sai Xi Er, go back and tell your Prime Minister. If they want to negotiate, they may. But it must be with sincerity, not empty words."

He turned and walked toward the doorway.

Reaching the doorway, he suddenly stopped and glanced back at Sai Xi Er.

"By the way, tell General Mai Ke Fu Sen that if he wishes to surrender, our soldiers will not kill prisoners."

After the door closed, Sai Xi Er sat alone there, trembling all over.

That night, a telegram from London arrived in Dubai.

Sai Xi Er stared at the telegram and remained silent for a long time.

The telegram contained only one line:

"Do your utmost to keep Australia. If you truly cannot, preserve dignity."

He gave a wry smile.

Dignity. Again, dignity.

He folded the telegram and slipped it into his pocket.

Then he stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window, Dubai's night was deep. In the distance, on the Persian Gulf's surface, the lights of several warships flickered in the darkness. Those were the lights of the victors.

He suddenly recalled something his father had said.

"Robert, the Yingguo Empire will rule the world forever."

Forever.

How far does forever stretch?

A hundred years? Two hundred? Or just a few months?

He didn't know.

But he knew that from today onward, the Yingguo Empire would no longer be that invincible empire.

During the third negotiation, Sai Xi Er entered the President's residence alone.

His back was straight, but the light had already left his eyes.

He looked at Chen Feng and said only one sentence.

"President, Yingguo agrees to relinquish Australia. But there is one condition—Lanfang may not attack New Zealand."

Chen Feng stared at him, silent for three seconds.

"Deal."

The signing ceremony took place in a small conference room. No reporters, no flashbulbs, only a table, two agreements, and a few pens.

When Sai Xi Er signed, his hand trembled. After the final stroke, he lifted his head and looked at Chen Feng.

"President, for three hundred years the Yingguo Empire has never handed over land to anyone. Today is the first time."

Chen Feng looked at him, his gaze calm.

"Mr. Sai Xi Er, three hundred years ago there were no tanks, no aircraft, no million Asian soldiers bearing guns. Times have changed."

Sai Xi Er lowered his head and said nothing.

Chen Feng extended his hand. Sai Xi Er grasped it.

The two hands clasped for three seconds, then released.

When he left the President's residence, Sai Xi Er stood at the doorway, gazing at the distant shimmering sea for a long while without moving.

The aide came over and asked softly, "Lord?"

Sai Xi Er shook his head.

"Let's go. Back to London."

He got into the car, the door closed, and the vehicle slowly drove away.

Berlin, April 1918.

Spring sunlight should have been warm and bright, but at this moment it fell on Berlin's streets, appearing especially pallid. The buildings lining the streets were riddled with shell holes, windows shattered, and the walls covered with slogans—"Stop the war", "We want bread", "William step down".

A long queue stretched from the bakery's doorway to the street corner, turned a corner, and continued into the unseen distance. The line included old and young, men and women, but everyone's face bore the same expression—fatigue, numbness, despair.