Chapter 80: Victory Banquet

Li Te stood there, the medals on his chest heavy. He looked at Chen Feng, this young man even younger than himself, whose eyes now held a light he had never seen before.

It was not excitement, not self-satisfaction.

It was a kind of... relief, as though this moment had finally come.

The ceremony lasted an hour.

Chen Feng shook hands one by one with the key officers of the Restoration Ship, pinning a Silver Lion or Bronze Lion medal on each. Chief Engineer Zhou Dayong's hands shook when he received his medal; Gunnery Officer Zhao Tieshan, a veteran, had red-rimmed eyes; Navigation Officer Chen Qiming—that top student from the technical school, only twenty years old—burst into tears outright.

Finally, all officers and soldiers formed up and marched past the dock.

One thousand two hundred and three people, divided into twenty formations, wearing uniform dark blue training fatigues, their steps not particularly crisp—most of them had been miners, farmers, and peddlers just a few months ago. But every one of them stood ramrod straight, heads held high.

The crowds on shore watched them, watched these people with the same skin color and the same faces, watched them walk down from a world-class warship built by their own people.

Something took root in that moment.

When it came to the ordinary sailors, Chen Feng walked to the front of the formation.

"Name?" he asked the first young man.

"R-reporting to the President! Chen Amin! From Xinhui, Guangdong!" the young man stammered, his voice trembling with nerves.

"What's your post aboard ship?"

"Number two loader, B turret!"

"Were you scared, going out this time?"

Chen Aming froze for a moment, then shook his head hard. "Not scared! Our ship... our ship is bigger than theirs! Our guns are thicker than theirs! Our speed is faster than theirs! What's there to be scared of!"

His words were blunt, and the people around him laughed.

Chen Feng laughed too and patted his shoulder. "Well said. Go back and rest up. Say hello to your parents for me."

"Yes, sir!"

He went down the line one by one. Loaders, engine room hands, signalmen, cooks... he exchanged a few words with each. Wang Bo watched from behind, calculating the time in his head—at this rate it would take two hours to finish. But Chen Feng did not stop; he listened carefully to every name and replied earnestly to every word.

By the time the last sailor walked past, it was already three in the afternoon.

Chen Feng returned to Li Te's side and gestured toward the administration building. "Let's go. The victory banquet is ready. Today the whole port gets an extra meal—half a jin of meat and one egg per person."

"You're treating the whole port, Mr. President," Li Te said.

"Money well spent." Chen Feng walked alongside him. "You risk your lives at sea. If those of us in the rear can't even spring for a meal, what does that make us?"

The victory banquet was held at the newly built Revival Square.

The site was originally planned as a central city park. The sod hadn't been laid yet and the saplings had just been planted, but the square's surface had already been paved with concrete. Under hastily erected tents stood rows of long tables and benches. On the tables were large basins of stewed meat, rice, and greens, along with rare fresh fish—just caught that morning from the Persian Gulf.

The officers and soldiers of the Restoration Ship sat mixed with civilian representatives, not separated by rank. Chen Feng pulled Li Te to sit at the centermost table. At the same table were senior figures like Liu Yongfu as well as several randomly selected sailors.

Chen Amin was lucky enough to be picked again. He sat diagonally across from Chen Feng, so nervous he could barely hold his chopsticks steady.

"Don't be nervous." Chen Feng picked up a piece of meat and put it in his bowl. "Just like eating at home."

"Th-thank you, Mr. President..."

"Tell me," Chen Feng turned to Li Te, "the Java affair. The full account."

The table went quiet.

Li Te set down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth. "At dawn on April second, we received an urgent message from Dragon Eye Network South Ocean-7. The Dutch opened fire in Batavia—forty-seven dead, over a hundred wounded. The last line of the message read: 'Where is our motherland?'"

He paused. His voice was calm, but everyone at the table had set down their chopsticks.

"I requested instructions from Dubai. The President replied authorizing us to proceed at full speed. Three principles: protecting the lives of our compatriots comes first; escalate in a controlled manner; project authority but stop once the point is made."

"We took fifty-one hours to reach the waters off Java. The Dutch ship De Zeven Provinciën was anchored in port—still a pre-dreadnought, Main Gun of 240 millimeters, speed under 18 knots. Their coastal batteries had a maximum range of six kilometers, so we stopped eight kilometers out."

Li Te took a sip of water and continued:

"I chose Wangfu Cliff on the west side of the harbor as the bombardment target—it's a barren hill, nobody lives there. I sent a message in plain code to the Dutch authorities saying we would be conducting artillery calibration exercises. They didn't reply."

"At eight o'clock sharp, eight Main Guns fired a salvo—high-explosive shells, delayed fuses. All eight rounds hit. The mountaintop was sheared off by twenty meters."

He described it tersely, but the image was vivid. The people at the table held their breath, and even several tables away everyone went quiet to listen.

"And then?" Liu Yongfu asked.

"Then the Dutch took the initiative to send a message requesting negotiations," Li Te said. "I had them send representatives aboard. Seven came—the harbor master, the garrison commander, the finance officer, and so on. I set three conditions: compensation, guarantees for our compatriots' rights, and the handover of the nineteen men who opened fire."

"They agreed?" Li Mingyuan asked.

"They agreed to the first two and bargained on the third." A cold smile crept onto Li Te's lips. "They said they had to guarantee those men's personal safety and conduct a 'symbolic trial' in a Dutch court before handing them over. I said fine, but we would supervise the trial and had to approve the outcome. If they didn't hand them over after the trial, we'd take matters into our own hands."

A few quiet chuckles sounded around the table.

"And after that?"

"After that, they held the trial," Li Te said. "In the harbor master's conference hall. Twenty-five minutes. They convicted them of 'manslaughter,' dismissed them from the military, and handed them over to us. The men have already been escorted to the mine."

Chen Feng said nothing the whole time, only listened. After Li Te finished, he spoke:

"How did the local Chinese react?"

Li Te's expression softened. "We sent people ashore to contact old Chen Jinfu of the Chinese chamber of commerce. He wept. He said of the dead, his fellow townsman Chen Afu's family of three—a son of sixteen, a daughter of six—at least the killers had been caught. I left some money for them to buy medicine and told them that if anything like this happened again, they should find a way to notify us."

Chen Feng nodded and raised his teacup:

"This trip, you all did well. Not well in firing the guns, but well in the timing, the target, the restraint—all handled to perfection. You made the Dutch hurt, but didn't back them into a corner where they'd fight like cornered dogs. You let the Chinese see hope, but didn't give them unrealistic illusions."

He looked at the whole table, and at those farther away who had pricked up their ears to listen:

"This is the principle by which Lanfang will act from now on—possessing strength, but not abusing it; having bottom lines, but knowing when to adapt. Come, a toast to Captain Li Te, and to all officers and soldiers of the Restoration Ship!"

Everyone raised their cups.

Tea and plain water swirled in the cups, reflecting the afternoon sun.