Chapter 86: Sorry, This Is an Internal Document

Wang Wenwu sat at the main seat opposite, Li Mingyuan sat to his right, and the other participants took their seats in order.

"First, I represent the British Empire government and welcome the Lanfang delegation to London," Langsdun said, his voice steady and low, "I hope this meeting can deepen mutual understanding and promote friendly relations between the two sides."

Standard diplomatic phrasing. Wang Wenwu smiled and nodded: "Thank you for your country's invitation. Lanfang is willing to develop friendly cooperation with all nations that respect our sovereignty and the rights of overseas Chinese."

After the opening remarks, the atmosphere tightened subtly.

The chairman of the Trade Committee was the first to raise an objection; he was a stout old man named Aqibolde, speaking as if cross‑examining in a courtroom: "Mr. Wang, before we discuss specific issues, I would like to confirm one thing—does your conduct in Java represent Lanfang's future foreign policy direction? In other words, will you dispatch military forces into another country's territory without the sovereign nation's consent?"

The question was sharp. All eyes were fixed on Wang Wenwu.

"Chairman," Wang Wenwu leaned slightly forward, "First, I must correct a term: that was not 'conduct' but a 'protect‑overseas‑Chinese operation.' Second, Lanfang's foreign policy principle is simple—protecting the lives and property of overseas Chinese. When Chinese abroad face systematic violent threats, we have the right to take necessary measures."

"That violates international law—"

"International law also prohibits the massacre of civilians." Wang Wenwu interrupted him, his voice still calm, "Dutch military police in Batavia opened fire, killing forty‑seven Chinese, including nine women and three children, the youngest six years old. Under the universal jurisdiction principle of the Hague Convention, any nation has the right to intervene in such crimes."

Aqibolde opened his mouth to rebut, but Wang Wenwu raised his hand to stop him:

"Of course, Lanfang is a responsible nation. After we took action, we proactively negotiated with the Dutch authorities and reached a formal agreement that included compensation and protection of rights. The entire process was public, transparent, and procedurally compliant."

He paused briefly, scanning the opposite side:

"So to answer your question: yes, this reflects Lanfang's policy. But please understand, this is not an aggressive policy, it is a protective one. As long as Chinese are no longer humiliated, our warship will not fire its Main Gun."

The conference room fell silent.

Navy Minister Feisher suddenly laughed, his laugh dry: "Mr. Wang is quite the speaker. But let us be frank—your Restoration Ship has appeared in the Indian Ocean, the Suez, and now is anchored off Portsmouth. The performance of this vessel has already shifted the regional balance of power. Yingguo must consider its own interests."

Finally, we get to the point.

Wang Wenwu opened his briefcase and took out a document with a red cover: "This is exactly what we are here to discuss. To enhance mutual trust, Lanfang is willing to proactively propose a cooperation framework."

He pushed the document over.

Langsdun took it, skimmed quickly, and his brow gradually furrowed.

The document was three pages, printed in English, with precise wording:

Yingguo will immediately lift all trade sanctions against Lanfang, restore pre‑sanction price levels, and provide appropriate compensation for losses Lanfang has suffered as a result (Annex 1 is the loss list).

Yingguo will allow Lanfang to establish a permanent commercial representative office in London, with diplomatic pouch rights, tax‑exemption rights, and diplomatic immunity for its personnel.

Both sides have reached a memorandum of understanding on protecting the rights of Chinese in the South Ocean region, with Yingguo tacitly recognizing Lanfang's "protect‑overseas‑Chinese right" when Chinese lives are threatened.

Feisher leaned over to look, and upon seeing the third clause, snorted coldly: "Tacit recognition? That amounts to acknowledging that you have the right to interfere in the British Empire's colonial affairs."

"No," Wang Wenwu corrected, "only in extreme cases where Chinese lives are threatened. Moreover, Yingguo equally has the right to set up a representative office in Lanfang to monitor our actions in the South Ocean—if necessary."

"Monitor?" Trade Committee Chairman Aqibolde raised his voice, "You monitor us?"

"Mutual monitoring." Wang Wenwu smiled, "Fair."

Langsdun set the document down, took off his glasses and wiped them: "Mr. Wang, these demands… are quite direct."

"Because time is precious," Wang Wenwu glanced at his pocket watch, "this afternoon we still have to go to Portsmouth to inspect the Restoration Ship's supply status. Tomorrow we plan to go to Paris."

The meaning was clear: if we don't discuss it, we'll drop it and talk to the French instead.

Feisher and Langsdun exchanged a glance.

"We need time to study," Langsdun said, "and also, regarding the amount of trade compensation—"

"One point eight million pounds sterling," Wang Wenwu quoted the figure, "this is Lanfang's actual loss during the sanctions. Detailed trade invoices and shipping records are available for verification at any time."

Aqibolde inhaled a cold gasp: "That's impossible! The Treasury will never approve—"

"Then just don't approve it," Wang Wenwu spread his hands, "but please understand, if you lack even this bit of sincerity, cooperation with us in other fields… will also be hard to develop."

He deliberately paused, then as if recalling something, reached into his bag again and produced another document. This one had a blue cover, but when he took it out, he "accidentally" let several pages slip out.

The papers floated down, landing precisely at Feisher's feet.

Feisher bent down to pick them up and instinctively glanced at them.

Then his movement froze.

It was a design sketch. A side view of a warship, annotated with a dense array of dimensions and data. He recognized it at a glance: Main Gun caliber 350 mm, length 240 m, standard displacement 28,000 tons… performance clearly superior to the Dreadnought, but simplified compared to the Restoration Ship.

In the lower right corner of the drawing was a handwritten note: "Export model·Leopard Class (Plan 3)".

Feisher's hand trembled.

Wang Wenwu hurriedly rose, took the sketch: "Sorry, this is an internal document." He shoved the drawing back into his bag, but Feisher had already seen it clearly.

The conference room fell silent again.

This time the silence felt different.

The meeting recessed for half an hour.

The Yingguo delegation went to the adjacent small meeting room. Wang Wenwu stayed where he was, drinking tea and speaking in low tones.

"Minister," Li Mingyuan whispered, "Feisher has seen the sketch."

"That's exactly the point—to let him see it." Wang Wenwu took a sip of tea—British black tea with milk, no sugar, an oddly flavored brew—"His mind is now filled with that ship. Its performance exceeds the Dreadnought, yet it's not Lanfang's best. Tell me, how will he choose?"

"Either develop it themselves or buy it from us."

"Research and development takes three years, costs at least two million pounds sterling, and still may fail." Wang Wenwu set down his teacup, "Both time and price give us an advantage over them. You are the Navy Minister—what would you choose? Moreover, what if that ship were flying the Faguo or Deguo flag!!!"

Half an hour later, the Yingguo personnel returned.

Everyone's expression changed. Feisher's eyes held a restrained excitement, like a hunter who has spotted fresh prey.