Gold Trading

Outside the window, night deepened. But Dubai Harbour was brightly lit, factories were still operating, and workers were still doing final checks in the docks. It was a sleepless night—for Chen Feng, for the representatives of the three countries, and for the world about to be changed by this contract.

At the same time, in Berlin.

Sanssouci Palace, the private study of Kaiser Wilhelm II.

It was already two in the morning, but the light in the study was still on. Wilhelm II, wearing his dressing robe and holding the third telegram from Tirpitz, paced excitedly back and forth in the room.

"Ten 305mm main guns! Unified fire control! Effective range of 18,000 yards! Speed ​​of 22 knots!" With each sentence, his voice rose an octave. "My God, Tirpitz said he saw it with his own eyes: a 30% hit rate with a salvo at 15,000 yards! 30%!"

The attendants stood by the door, not daring to breathe. The emperor had been in this state of agitation for two hours.

"And they have ten! Ten ships in stock!" Wilhelm II slammed the telegram on the table. "The British are still drawing up their Dreadnoughts on paper, while the Chinese have already put ten in the sea! This is God's will! Proof that Germany is destined to dominate the seas!"

He rushed to the map, tracing his finger between the North Sea and the Baltic Sea: "Six... If we have six such warships, plus the Nassau-class we're building... by 1908 we'll have a navy capable of challenging the British Home Fleet! No, not challenging, but surpassing it!"

"Your Majesty," the aide-de-camp cautiously reminded him, "General Tirpitz said in his telegram that the price is extremely high, £280 million per ship. Six ships would cost £1680 million, which is almost half of our naval budget this year..."

"Money is no problem!" Wilhelm II waved his hand. "We can cut army spending, issue national bonds, and borrow money from the bankers! If all else fails, let those short-sighted men in Parliament see this telegram—if they don't agree to the appropriation, I'll dissolve Parliament!"

He became increasingly agitated as he spoke: "Just imagine, what will the expressions on the faces of all of Europe be when six German dreadnoughts sail into Kiel for a naval review? Will the British still dare to threaten us with their 'two-power standard'? Will the French still dare to challenge us on the Moroccan issue?"

The attendant dared not offer any further advice. He knew that the emperor had been dreaming of a navy for over a decade, and now there was an opportunity to realize that dream five or even ten years earlier; any rational dissuasion would be futile.

"Return the call to Tirpitz." Wilhelm II had finally calmed down a bit, but his eyes were still shining. "Authorize him to sign the contract. Tell him I'll take care of the money; he just needs to make sure two things: first, not a single one of the six ships is missing; second, the technical data must be brought back as completely as possible. Especially that... that steam turbine, and the unified fire control system."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

As the attendant was about to leave, Wilhelm II called him back: "Wait. Send another secret telegram to Tirpitz."

He walked to his desk, picked up his pen, pondered for a moment, and wrote down a passage:

"Alfred, this is more than just a deal for six ships. It's a turning point for the German Imperial Navy. I need you to assess that Chinese man—Chen Feng. Is he a long-term partner, or a fleeting miracle? If possible, I hope he can become a…special friend of ours in the East. The Empire's interests in the East need a new foothold, and the name Lanfang reminds me of some interesting history."

After finishing writing, he read it carefully and nodded: "Send it out like this. Use the highest level of security classification."

"Yes, ma'am."

After the attendant left, Wilhelm II picked up the telegram again and read it repeatedly. He walked to the window, looked at the tranquil night outside Sanssouci Palace, and a smile that he made no attempt to hide appeared on his lips.

"British Empire," he muttered to himself, "enjoy your last days of maritime supremacy. The German fleet is coming."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, Tirpitz received this coded telegram in his humble temporary lodging in Dubai. After reading it, he remained silent for a long time.

Then, he picked up his pen and sent a telegram back to the emperor:

"Your Majesty, the contract will be formally signed tomorrow. My initial assessment of Chen Feng is as follows: He is only twenty years old, but he possesses profound insight, acts with composure, and has clear goals. He is not an ordinary arms dealer or warlord, but a politician with a complete blueprint for nation-building. The 300,000 remnants of Lanfang have formed a well-organized community under his leadership. I suggest that the Empire engage with him on an equal footing, rather than treating him as an ordinary colonial power. He may indeed become an important pawn on the Empire's chessboard in the East, as Your Majesty desires—but please note that he will never be content to be merely a pawn. Respectfully yours, Tirpitz."

After sending the telegram, Tirpitz opened the window and looked at the silhouette of the warship LF-01 in the distance at the dock. The ship looked like a sleeping giant in the moonlight.

He recalled the awe-inspiring sight of the main guns firing simultaneously during the day, Chen Feng's calm explanation of the technical details, and the orderly scene of the 300,000 Lanfang immigrants working in factories, docks, and construction sites.

"Twenty years old..." Tirpitz murmured to himself, "When I was your age, I was just a junior lieutenant at the Naval Academy. And you, you're already negotiating with the Empire and changing the world's naval landscape."

He shook his head and closed the window. The contract was to be signed tomorrow, and there were still many details to be finalized.

But lying in bed, Tirpitz couldn't fall asleep for a long time. A sentence Chen Feng had said during the day kept replaying in his mind—a seemingly casual sentence that, upon closer examination, filled him with dread:

"General, do you know? Dreadnoughts are just the beginning. The future of the oceans does not belong to battleships."

When Tirpitz pressed Chen Feng to explain what it was, Chen Feng simply smiled and didn't answer.

Now, in the quiet of the night, Tirpitz suddenly had a terrible thought.

If the Dreadnoughts are just the beginning...

So what's next?

How many secrets is that young Chinese man still hiding?

In this impending naval revolution, will the German Empire seize the opportunity or be left behind?

In late June, the heatwave in the Persian Gulf began to truly show its power.

But even hotter than the weather was the Dubai harbor. Two 10,000-ton cruise ships flying the German Imperial Merchant Shipping flag—the "Hamburg" and the "Bremen"—slowly entered their deep-water berths. They had departed from Kiel, crossed the Strait of Gibraltar, and passed through the Suez Canal, arriving at this desolate coastline in less than four weeks.

"Mr. Chen, according to the contract, the first batch of funds..."

Lieutenant Commander von Strauss, the treasurer of the German Navy, placed a black leather suitcase on the table and opened it. Inside were not banknotes, but stacks of neatly arranged gold bars—each weighing approximately 12.5 kilograms, standard London gold and silver market size.

"Four million two hundred thousand pounds, which, at the current gold price, amounts to 105 tons of gold." Strauss's voice was as meticulous as his crisp military uniform. "Seventy tons of it have been deposited in Credit Suisse Zurich, Switzerland, in the account name 'Lanfang Revival Fund.' The remaining thirty-five tons are packed in ten such boxes and will be delivered within three days."

Chen Feng didn't touch the gold bricks. He just glanced at them and nodded: "The Germans' efficiency is truly legendary."

"His Majesty the Emperor is personally overseeing this," Strauss said, standing ramrod straight. "General Tirpitz asked me to inform you that the second tranche of funds will arrive within three months. Meanwhile, the first batch of six hundred German naval cadets are already on board two ships. They hope to begin training tomorrow."

"The training venue is ready." Chen Feng gestured for Uncle Wang to take the documents. "However, according to the agreement, all trainees must abide by our management regulations during the training period—they may not leave the base without permission, may not enter unauthorized areas, and may not have unnecessary contact with local residents."

"I completely understand." Strauss nodded. "This is a military secret, not a tourist attraction."

After seeing the Germans off, Chen Feng stood at the window of the newly built three-story administration building, watching the cruise ships unloading cargo at the dock. In addition to gold, the Germans also brought the first batch of training materials: nautical textbooks, military uniforms, food, and even several steam turbine models for teaching purposes.

"Young master, this money..." Uncle Wang stood behind him, his voice trembling slightly, "I've never seen so much gold in my entire life."

"Uncle Wang, this is only half." Chen Feng turned around, his face not showing much joy. "The total contract price for the six ships is £16.8 million. What we've received so far is only a quarter."

He walked to the wall, pulled back the curtain, revealing a huge world map. More than a dozen locations were marked in red on the map.

"But this money will be spent very quickly."