World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Chapter 258 Tokyo: A Funeral in the Snow

On December 2nd, Tokyo had its first snowfall of the year. The snowflakes were fine and delicate, like sifted ashes, falling onto the square in front of the Imperial Palace and quickly forming a thin, pale layer on the stone pavement.

Saionji Kinmochi stood by the window on the third floor of the Prime Minister's official residence, looking at the snow scene outside. The old man's back was still straight, but his grip on the windowsill trembled slightly—not from the cold, but from the strain. He hadn't slept much for three days.

The sound of a car engine came from downstairs. Terauchi Masatake's black sedan slowly drove into the courtyard of the official residence and stopped in the midst of the swirling snow, like a moving coffin.

Saionji turned and walked toward his office. He knew that a historic moment was about to arrive—not a glorious one, but a shameful one.

Five minutes later, Terauchi Masatake walked into the office. The former prime minister looked twenty years older; his hair was completely white, his eyes were heavily puffed up, and he walked with an unsteady gait. He was carrying a brown paper bag containing his resignation letter.

"Lord Saionji," the temple servant bowed deeply, his voice hoarse like a broken bellows, "I apologize for...making you look foolish."

Saionji gestured for him to sit down. The secretary brought over two cups of tea, but neither of them touched them.

"The treaty... has been ratified," Terauchi said, his tone unusually calm. "Yesterday afternoon at 3 PM, the House of Peers passed it by 187 votes to 42. The House of Representatives passed it by 312 votes to 101. The main opposition came from members of the Army faction, but... the tide has turned."

Saionji nodded: "Where is His Majesty the Heavenly Locust?"

"The imperial seal has been affixed." The temple staff took out the document from the paper bag; on top was the treaty ratification document bearing a golden chrysanthemum emblem. "It was sent to the palace late last night and returned this morning. From this moment on, the Treaty of Borneo is officially in effect!"

His voice trembled slightly as he spoke his last words.

Saionji took the document and opened it. He had read those terms countless times in the telegrams, but seeing the official text bearing the national seal still caused a pang of heartache.

Five hundred million in compensation (partial content deleted)

Every word was like a slap in the face of this once proud empire.

"When do you plan to resign?" Saionji asked.

"This afternoon," Terauchi said, "the cabinet meeting has concluded, and all ministers have agreed to resign en masse. I have already written my resignation letter and will submit it to the Imperial Palace shortly."

Saionji looked at this junior who was eleven years younger than him. Terauchi Masatake served as prime minister for only four months and seven days, which would make him the shortest-serving prime minister in the constitutional history of Sakura—a record that probably wouldn't be broken for a long time.

"What are your plans?" Saionji asked.

"Plans?" Terauchi gave a wry smile. "Go home, shut myself away from visitors. I might write my memoirs, or I might do nothing and just die of old age. But in any case... I will no longer concern myself with politics. I don't have the right."

He paused, then looked at Saionji: "But you, Lord Saionji, have you really thought this through before taking on this mess?"

Saionji did not answer immediately. He stood up and walked to the wall. There hung a portrait of Meiji Tenko—a young Tenko in military uniform, with sharp eyes, from the most spirited era of Japan.

"Forty-three years ago," Saionji began slowly, "I accompanied the Iwakura delegation to Europe for an inspection tour. At that time, Japan had just undergone the Meiji Restoration, and everything was in ruins and backward. In Paris, a French journalist asked me: 'Your Japan is so small and weak, why do you still want to learn from the West in building ships and training troops?'"

He turned around and looked into the temple: "My answer at the time was: 'Precisely because we are small, precisely because we are weak, we must learn. We do not seek to dominate the world, but only to avoid being bullied by it.'"

"And now?" Terauchi asked. "We studied for forty years, built a fleet, trained an army, and won two wars. In the end... in the end, we were still bullied. And by a country that had only been established for ten years."

"Because we learned the wrong things," Saionji said calmly. "We only learned the superficial aspects of the West—battleships, cannons, and colonies—but not the essence—systems, science, and the rule of law. We thought that being strong meant being able to win wars, but Lanfang told us that being strong means being able to make our people live a good life."

He walked back to his seat and sat down: "Terauchi-kun, do you know what the per capita income of Lanfang is now? It's twice that of Japan. Their school enrollment rate is 98%, while ours is 62%. Their port throughput is three times that of Yokohama. These figures are more shocking to me than four Bismarck-class battleships." (The editor didn't spend much time on oil, even though oil prices were low at the time.)

Silence fell over the temple. He had seen this data before, but he didn't want to think about it deeply. The more he thought about it, the more desperate he became.

"So, after you take over as Prime Minister," he asked, "what are your plans?"

Saionji took a document from a drawer and pushed it in front of him. The title was "Basic Policy for the Reconstruction of the Empire".

"First, accept reality and fully implement the peace treaty," Saionji said.

"Second, use the money saved to import food, stabilize prices, and restore production."

"Third..." he paused, "...seeking cooperation with Lanfang. Not equal cooperation, but dependent cooperation. Borrowing money from them to buy grain, introducing their technology, and even...sending laborers to their factories."

Temple staff member's eyes widened: "Sending laborers? Isn't that just a disguised form of human trafficking?"

"It's labor export," Saionji corrected. "What's the biggest problem in Japan right now? Unemployment. Factories are shut down, ports are paralyzed, and millions are out of work. Meanwhile, Lanfang is developing rapidly and is short of labor. We send people there, they pay wages, we earn foreign exchange, and the workers have food to eat. It's a win-win-win situation."

"But this is humiliation..."

"Living is more important than humiliation." Saionji interrupted him. "Terauchi-kun, you've already signed the peace treaty, you should understand this. In the current Japan, we have no right to talk about dignity. Survive first, then we'll talk about everything else."

The temple staff looked at the old man before them. Seventy-four-year-old Saionji Kinmochi, a veteran of the Meiji Restoration, a close friend of Ito Hirobumi, and a former prime minister who had served two terms. Now, in this darkest hour for the empire, he was willing to return to public life, not for glory, but to clean up the mess.

"Why would you do this?" the temple said softly. "You've already achieved great success and can easily enjoy your retirement. Taking this position will only ruin your lifelong reputation."

Saionji smiled, a desolate smile: "Terauchi-kun, you are sixty-three years old this year. Our generation has witnessed the rise and fall of the Sakura Kingdom. If we abandon it now and leave the mess to the younger generation, that would truly ruin our lifelong reputation."

He stood up and walked to the window. The snow was still falling, and the rooftops of the palace were already white.

"Someone has to shoulder this responsibility," Saionji said softly but firmly. "Since history has chosen me, I will bear this responsibility."

Terauchi Masatake also stood up. He bowed deeply, at a ninety-degree angle, and held the bow for three seconds.

"Lord Saionji, I'm entrusting this to you."