Chapter 769: The General Chose to Be with His Warship

The deck exploded again.

Someone rushed forward, trying to grab him. Someone knelt down, crying and shouting. Someone stood frozen, at a loss. Chief of Staff surged to his front, eyes reddened, voice hoarse: "General! You cannot do this! You will— you will be taken to a military tribunal!"

Jielike looked at him, his gaze calm. "Military tribunal? Chief of Staff, do you think I could still be alive to stand before a military tribunal?"

Chief of Staff was stunned.

Jielike patted his shoulder. "Go, organize the troops to abandon ship. This is the final order."

Chief of Staff stood there, motionless.

Jielike stared at him, silent for three seconds. Then he turned and shouted to the sailors below:

"Abandon ship! This is an order!"

The sailors began to move.

Some cried as they ran down the gangway, some looked back at the warships, some helped each other, step by step toward the shore. Jielike stood on the bridge, watching them leave one by one. Some young sailors, halfway out, suddenly stopped, turned back, lips moving as if to speak, but said nothing.

Jielike nodded at them. Then he kept watching.

Chief of Staff was the last to come before him. He saluted, eyes bloodshot, voice hoarse as sandpaper on steel.

"General, take care."

Jielike returned the salute.

"Go."

Chief of Staff turned, descended the gangway. After a few steps he suddenly stopped, glanced back at Jielike. Jielike still stood there, like a statue. Chief of Staff clenched his teeth, kept walking forward, never looking back.

Exactly nine a. m.

Jielike stood on the bridge, watching the empty deck, the empty harbor, the sailors standing on the shore in the distance. They all stared at him, motionless.

He inhaled deeply, pulled the telegram from his pocket, glanced at it again. Then he folded the telegram, slipped it back into his pocket. He walked to the console and pressed the first button.

A muffled explosion sounded from the hull.

The warship shivered slightly.

He pressed the second button. The third, the fourth, the fifth—each press made the warship tremble once, and a muffled blast rang out each time.

Then he stepped out of the bridge, standing on the deck.

The warship began to tilt. Very slowly, very slowly, like a giant gradually falling. Jielike stood on the deck, watching the distant coastline, the sailors on the shore, the city where he had stayed for three months.

No expression crossed his face.

The warship's tilt grew more severe. Jielike grasped the rail, steadied himself. Icy seawater surged onto the deck, rising past his ankles, his knees, his waist.

He did not move.

He stood there, watching the sea surface drawing nearer, the sun hanging in the sky, the oil slick and wreckage floating on the water.

He recalled himself thirty years ago, just after enlisting. He was a young Lieutenant, boarding a warship for the first time, so excited he couldn't sleep. He thought he would spend his life in the Royal Navy, perhaps become a captain, perhaps a general. He believed the Royal Navy's warships would never sink.

The warship kept sinking. Seawater rose past his chest, his shoulders, his neck. He finally glanced back at the city, at the sailors on the shore, at the warship sinking.

Then the sea engulfed him.

At six p. m., the Bismarck battleship slowly entered Mumbai Port.

She Er stood on the bridge, holding a telescope, watching the distant sea. The sunset dyed the water blood‑red, oil, planks, debris floated, and—several masts protruding above the water.

Those were the masts of the sunken warships. One, two, three… he counted, thirteen in total.

She Er lowered the telescope, silent for a long while.

Chief of Staff came to his side, speaking softly: "General, the reconnaissance boat has been dispatched. Yingguo troops are on the shore, waiting to surrender."

She Er nodded.

"Where is Jielike?"

Chief of Staff was silent for three seconds. "General, the Yingguo forces sank themselves. Jielike… sank with the warship."

She Er closed his eyes.

He kept his eyes shut, standing for a full minute. Then he opened them, watching the blood‑red sea, the masts above the water, the wreckage glittering in the sunset.

"Dock." he said.

When She Er descended the gangway, the pier was already packed with people.

Yingguo sailors lined up on the shore, silent, motionless. Their uniforms were worn, faces tired, yet each back stood straight. They watched the massive Deguo battleship slowly dock, watched the Deguo sailors disembark, watched She Er walk toward them step by step.

She Er approached a Yingguo officer. He was Jielike's Chief of Staff, his shoulder boards bearing the rank of Colonel. He stood at the front of the line, holding a ceremonial sword.

She Er stared at him, silent for three seconds.

"Where is General Jielike?"

Chief of Staff lifted his head, looking at him. His eyes were bloodshot, but no tears in them. His voice was hoarse, yet each word clear: "The general chose to be with his warship."

She Er closed his eyes, then opened them.

He turned, gazing at the blood‑red sea in the distance. The sunset sank below the horizon, casting its last light over the wreckage‑filled waters. The masts protruding above the water stood like tombstones, silently upright.

She Er removed his cap.

He faced the sea and gave a solemn military salute.

Behind him, Deguo sailors raised their right hands in unison. Over a thousand hands lifted in the sunset, saluting silently. The sea wind rustled the flags. No one spoke, no one moved, just standing quietly, saluting.

She Er stood there, motionless. He saluted for a full five minutes.

Then he lowered his hand, turned, and looked at the Yingguo Chief of Staff.

"Where is General Jielike's ceremonial sword?"

Chief of Staff presented the sword with both hands. She Er took the sword, looking at the small inscription on the scabbard—"God bless our king." He was silent for three seconds, then returned the sword to Chief of Staff.

"Store it. Return it to Yingguo when the war ends."

Chief of Staff was stunned. "General?"

She Er looked at him, his gaze calm. "He is not a defeated general. He is a soldier. This sword should remain in Yingguo."

Chief of Staff lowered his head, both hands holding that sword, not knowing what to say.

She Er turned around, and said to the lined‑up Yingguo sailors: "Your war is over. To the east from here there are tents set up by people from the Sakura Nation, there is food, there is water. The wounded and sick will receive treatment. Once everything is arranged, you can go home."

No one spoke. But someone began to cry.

She Er said nothing more. She Er turned and walked toward the Bismarck.

After walking a few steps, She Er suddenly stopped, turned back and glanced at the blood‑red sea surface.

"Old rival," She Er whispered, "go well."

The sunset finally sank below the horizon. The last sliver of light vanished from the sea, and night began to fall. The masts that rose above the water grew gradually blurry in the darkness, and finally disappeared completely.

She Er stood on the pier, looking at the darkness, and stood for a very long time.

Then She Er turned and boarded the ship.