novelSusiti Chapter 62 The French Can Also Kill by Destroying the Mind
Chapter 62 The French Can Also Kill by Destroying the Mind
"This is the list of supplies we need to replenish, along with the corresponding costs." His English was standard and fluent. "All costs will be paid in cash in pounds sterling, or in gold if you wish."
The port official took the list, his hands trembling slightly. The list was very detailed: 500 tons of fresh water, 2 tons of fresh vegetables, 1 ton of fruit, and a small quantity of medical supplies and lubricating oil. Total price: £375.60.
A reasonable price. Even slightly higher than the market price.
"We...we need time to prepare," the port official stammered.
"Understood." Li nodded. "We can wait in the dock area. Also, here are my credentials and the ship's access documents."
He then handed over a folder. Inside was a brief introduction to the "Kuangfu" (光复号), including basic parameters (of course, the publicly available version), crew list, purpose of visit, etc., all printed in English, formatted like a diplomatic note.
The British officials exchanged a glance. All their prepared plans—expulsion, arrest, conflict—were now rendered useless. The other side was too polite, too formal, too…perfect.
"We will make arrangements as soon as possible," the port official finally said. "But please abide by the regulations; the activity is limited to the pier area and cannot exceed 24 hours."
"certainly."
Li Te turned around and looked at the Chinese people gathered on the dock. They were kept outside the cordon by the military and police, but everyone's eyes were on him, on the giant ship, and on the yellow dragon flag fluttering in the wind.
He walked over, stopped in front of the cordon, and saluted the crowd.
There were no shouts, no speeches, just a simple military salute.
But enough.
Tears welled up in Chen Jinfu's eyes in the crowd. The fifty-year-old businessman struggled to hold back his sobs, nodding and waving vigorously.
Behind him, hundreds and thousands of Chinese people performed the same action—silent, but powerful.
At this moment, words are superfluous.
At that moment, all overseas Chinese understood one thing: the distant, legendary "Lanfang" was not a dream. It was real. It had warships, a navy, and the ability to appear in any corner of the world.
And they are no longer lonely wanderers.
They now had a flag to look up to.
That afternoon, in London, at the French Embassy
The talks had been going on for two hours. British Prime Minister Campbell-Banaman and First Sea Lord Fisher sat on one side of the long table, while French Ambassador Paul Campbell and Foreign Secretary Delcassé, who had just arrived in London, sat on the other side.
The atmosphere was polite but cold.
"So, your country's position," Campbell-Bannaman said slowly, "is that you will not terminate military cooperation with that 'Lanfang'?"
"It's not that I can't, it's that I can't," Delcas said with a smile. "Your Excellency, that's a legally binding contract. The French Republic respects the spirit of contracts."
Even if this agreement might disrupt the balance of power in Europe?
“Balance of power?” Delcas raised an eyebrow. “Your Excellency, when Germany had six dreadnoughts, Britain had eleven (under construction), and France had none, you’re talking to me about a balance of power? No, that was an imbalance of power. We’re just trying to restore some… balance.”
Fisher interjected, "Your Excellency, what if we were willing to provide some... technical support? For example, assistance in the construction of the dreadnoughts?"
"What kind of help?"
"We can send a team of engineers to share some of the fire control system technology, and even... we could consider selling one or two dreadnoughts to your country as soon as possible."
This was a significant concession. The meeting room fell silent.
Delcasé pondered for a few seconds, then shook his head: "Thank you for your generosity. However, firstly, your country's dreadnoughts won't be delivered until 1909, while Lanfang's 'Courbet-class' will have its first ship delivered within twelve months. Secondly, regarding technology sharing... I'm afraid it will only be limited?"
Without waiting for a reply, he continued:
"Your Excellency Prime Minister, Your Excellency Lord, let us be frank. Britain needs France to contain Germany on the European continent, so it does not want the French navy to be too weak. But Britain also does not want the French navy to be too powerful, to the point of threatening British naval superiority. It is a delicate balance."
"Now, the emergence of Lanfang has disrupted the balance. They have given France an opportunity to skip a generation of technology. Britain's choice is simple: either accept this new reality and readjust its strategy, or try to stop it, but the cost could be pushing France completely into the camp of Germany and Lanfang." (Because of the Franco-Prussian War, France and Germany could not possibly be on the same page.)
He leaned forward, his voice gentle yet firm:
"My personal advice is to choose the former. Because the latter would be a disaster for everyone."
A long silence.
Campbell-Bannaman and Fisher exchanged a glance. They knew the Frenchman was right. Britain had no good options, only less bad ones.
"Then," the Prime Minister finally spoke, "would your country be willing to act as an intermediary to facilitate...some kind of dialogue between Britain and Lanfang?"
Delcas smiled. It was the first genuine smile he had given all day.
"Of course. The French Republic is always committed to maintaining world peace and stability. If both sides are willing, we can arrange a meeting. The location... perhaps Paris? Or, if convenient, Mumbai?"
He paused, then added:
"After all, there's a ship there that both sides are interested in."
Mumbai Port
The resupply of the "Restoration" was completed by evening. Five hundred tons of fresh water, two tons of vegetables, and one ton of fruit were all loaded. Li Te personally signed the receipts and paid in cash—a crisp stack of pound notes—reaffirming to British officials that the other party was not joking and was genuinely conducting a "normal" visit.
As night fell, the warships lit up. Not with combat lights, but with soft navigation lights and porthole lights, giving the massive hulls a solemn beauty in the darkness.
On the docks, the crowd of onlookers not only did not decrease, but actually increased. The British colonial authorities had to deploy more troops and police to maintain order, but they found that the crowd was quiet, without any riots or slogans, just standing there quietly watching.
This is a silent protest.
A quiet shock.
On the bridge, Li Te received an encrypted telegram from Dubai. After translating it, he stared at the message in silence for a long time.
"Captain?" Lin Hai asked cautiously.
"The President's orders," Li Te handed over the telegram, "are to stay in Mumbai for another twenty-four hours, then return. But on the return journey, we'll go to Colombo, Aden, Djibouti... making a detour before finally going back."
Why?
"Let's show our presence." Li Te walked to the observation window, looking at the myriad lights on the shore. "Let the entire Indian Ocean coast know that this ship can go wherever it wants. Let London know that blockades are pointless. And let...and let the Chinese in Southeast Asia know that the road home is being cleared."
Lin Hai's eyes lit up as he looked at the telegram: "Then we..."
"Proceed as planned." Li Te turned around. "Inform the entire ship to get some rest. We'll continue our voyage tomorrow."
He paused, looking at the blurry figures in the darkness outside the window:
"Moreover, I have a feeling. Soon, we'll have guests coming to visit. British, French, and maybe... other places."
"guest?"