Petroleum

"The second category is machinery and equipment," Wang Wenwu continued. "In addition to the equipment obtained from Austria-Hungary, we also need to purchase large machine tools from the United States, precision instruments from Switzerland, and special steel from Sweden. These purchases will be made through trading companies in Singapore, Hong Kong, and Shanghai, disguised as ordinary commercial orders."

"The third category is talent introduction," Chen Feng added. "We offer high salaries to unemployed engineers and skilled workers in Europe, especially those experts who were not valued in the arms race. Germans, Austro-Hungarians, Italians... as long as they have real skills and are willing to come, we will offer them triple salaries, provide housing, and solve their family employment problems."

Zhao Qianli frowned: "Commander-in-Chief, bringing in foreigners... won't that leak information?"

"Yes," Chen Feng readily admitted. "Therefore, we must be selective in our talent recruitment, have strict management systems, and implement core technology protection measures. But more importantly—" He looked around at everyone, "we must have our own research and development capabilities. The purpose of recruiting talent is to cultivate our own talent. Ten years from now, I hope that the 'young' ministers sitting in this room will all be experts we have nurtured ourselves."

The meeting lasted a full four hours. As the sun set, the final plan was finalized.

The allocation of £4.2 million:

Industrial expansion: 120 million

Infrastructure construction: 80

Agricultural development: 50

Education: 30

Global procurement: 140 million

"Wenwu," Chen Feng said, keeping Wang Wenwu behind before the meeting ended, "you drafted the procurement plan, but do you realize how difficult it will be to execute it?"

Wang Wenwu's professional smile vanished, replaced by a rare serious expression: "President, this is very difficult. The British aren't fools; they'll notice our large-scale purchases of strategic minerals sooner or later. The Americans are rising in power and eyeing global resources covetously. The Germans, the French, and the Japanese are all vying for resources."

"I know," Chen Feng said, looking at him. "So I need you to do three things."

"Speaking."

"First, diversify even further. Don't buy too much in one place, don't buy in one way, and don't use one agent. We should cast a net, spreading it across the globe, but making each line so fine that it's invisible."

"Secondly, it must be legal and compliant. All transactions must comply with local laws, pay taxes as required, and ensure that all necessary relationships are properly regulated. We aim to be exemplary investors, not speculators."

"Third," Chen Feng paused, "we have backup plans. If one channel is cut off, another will immediately fill the gap. If a country's policy changes, we have contingency plans."

Wang Wenwu pondered for a moment and nodded: "Understood. I will assemble three teams: an overt business team to handle legitimate trade; an underground team to handle transactions in the gray area; and an intelligence analysis team to specialize in studying the policies and market dynamics of various countries."

"Regarding funding, I'll give you a 10% contingency allowance out of the £1.4 million procurement budget." Chen Feng handed him a letter of authorization. "You can use it urgently if necessary."

Wang Wenwu accepted the authorization letter, his hand trembling slightly. £140,000 in contingency funds—in 1905, this was a huge sum enough to buy a medium-sized factory.

"Commander-in-Chief, do you trust me that much?" he asked softly.

"Trust those you employ." Chen Feng patted him on the shoulder. "More importantly, you were recommended by Uncle Wang. Uncle Wang said that although you work for foreigners, you have never cheated your own people. Three years ago, when the Lanfang summons was issued, you were among the first to sell your property and bring your whole family to the Persian Gulf."

Wang Wenwu's eyes suddenly reddened. He took a deep breath and straightened his back: "Wenwu... will certainly not fail your trust."

Over the next few days, Dubai Port turned into a huge construction site.

German naval cadets began training. Six hundred young Germans in brand-new uniforms learned to operate the warship's main guns, maintain steam turbines, and use optical rangefinders under the scorching sun. Their instructors were Captain Litte and the first group of Chinese crew members—three years earlier, these men were fishermen, sailors, and dockworkers in Southeast Asia, but now they were experts on the world's most advanced warships.

The first batch of supplies from Austria-Hungary arrived. Three cargo ships carried twelve machine tools, two hundred tons of steel, and five thousand tons of grain. Accompanying the ships were six technical instructors from the Škoda arms factory, who would work there for six months.

What pleased Chen Feng most was that Austria-Hungary agreed to transfer the technology. Although it wasn't the latest artillery manufacturing technology, it included some basic metallurgical formulas, machining processes, and quality management systems. This seemingly ordinary knowledge was precisely what the Lanfang industrial system lacked most—you can have the most advanced blueprints, but without qualified processes, you can't manufacture qualified parts.

"Uncle Wang, all of this equipment will be installed in the newly expanded Workshop No. 2." Chen Feng personally directed the unloading at the dock. "Arrange the best accommodations and the highest standard of meals for those six Austrian engineers. Tell them that as long as they are willing to teach, the remuneration can be discussed."

"Don't worry, young master." Although Uncle Wang was sixty years old, he was still very energetic. "I've made all the arrangements. Each person will have their own dormitory room, with a translator provided. There will also be two days off each week, during which you can go fishing at the beach."

"Fishing..." Chen Feng laughed, "They come all the way from the Danube to the Persian Gulf, so they can experience different kinds of fish."

As they were talking, the sound of horses' hooves came from afar. Several camels and a group of horsemen were coming from the direction of the desert, raising a cloud of dust.

"They're from the Al Maktoum family," Uncle Wang glanced at them. "They're probably here to exchange goods."

Chen Feng nodded: "I'll go see him."

The man who arrived was Sheikh Khalid bin Al Maktoum, the chieftain of a local Bedouin tribe. He was in his forties, with a thick beard, wearing a white robe and a red and white checkered turban. He spoke basic English, as Dubai itself was a small trading port with frequent trade between Indian and Persian merchants.

"Chen, my friend!" Khalid jumped off his camel and warmly embraced Chen Feng. "God bless you, this place is getting more and more lively!"

"Sheikh, welcome," Chen Feng greeted in Arabic. "How's the ranch doing lately?"

"Great, excellent!" Khalid laughed. "The well-drilling equipment you provided is incredibly useful! We've drilled three deep wells in the oasis, and now my tribe no longer has to worry about water!"

When Chen Feng first arrived three years ago, he won over the local tribes by exchanging grain and cloth. Later, he provided them with simple well-drilling equipment and medical assistance, which completely earned the trust of these Bedouins. Now, the Al Maktoum tribe is Lanfang's most steadfast ally—although this "alliance" is loose and essentially based on mutual benefit.

"What did you bring today?" Chen Feng asked.

"Wool, three hundred sheepskins, and this—" Khalid gestured for his attendants to bring over a wooden box. He opened it, and inside were some black stones. "My son found these while herding sheep in the northern mountains. They smell strange when burned, but they're flammable."

Chen Feng picked up a piece and was shocked. It was asphalt, or rather, low-quality oil sand.

But he remained outwardly calm: "These black stones...are there many where you live?"

"So much of it!" Khalid gestured, indicating the name. "The whole mountain is covered in it, black and sticky. We call it 'devil's dung,' it's useless except for burning."

"I'd like to go take a look," Chen Feng said. "If the quantity is large, I can buy it long-term, and the price... will be 30% higher than wool."

Khalid's eyes lit up: "Really? Chen, you're not lying to me, are you?"

"When have I ever lied to you?" Chen Feng smiled. "But you have to promise me two things."

"you say!"

"First, don't tell any other tribes about this. Only your Al-Maktum family can sell it to me."

"Of course! Of course!" Khalid nodded repeatedly. "This is what we found, so of course we're only selling it to you!"

"Secondly," Chen Feng lowered his voice, "I want the land deeds for that mountain. Not the kind from the Ottoman government, but the traditional land deeds recognized by your tribe. I will pay for it, a one-time purchase."

Khalid was stunned. Buy land? In this desert where there was nothing but sand and black rocks?

"Chen, my friend, are you sure? There's really nothing there, not even grass grows..."

"I'm sure." Chen Feng patted him on the shoulder. "You name the price. Grain, cloth, weapons, medicine, even... I can reserve places for your sons in our school, teach them to read and write, and learn skills."

This final condition convinced Khalid. Literacy was a long-held dream of the Bedouin. The Ottoman government never taught Arabs to read, let alone technical skills.

"Fine!" Khalid gritted his teeth. "That mountain range, from Antelope Spring to Black Rock Cliff, is about... about what you Chinese call 'fifty hectares'? I'll sell it to you! But you'll need five hundred bags of flour, one hundred bolts of cloth, twenty rifles, and... five training slots."

"Deal." Chen Feng extended his hand. "Sign the contract tomorrow, and the first batch of supplies will be delivered to your camp within three days."

After seeing Khalid off, Chen Feng immediately returned to the administration building and summoned key personnel.

"Uncle Wang, how's the formation of our geological exploration team going?"

"As instructed by the young master, we found seven people who knew about mining among the immigrants, and borrowed two geology students from the German students," Uncle Wang replied. "But the equipment was rudimentary, consisting only of a compass, a hammer, and a magnifying glass."

"That's enough." Chen Feng spread out the map and pointed to the area Khalid mentioned. "We'll set off tomorrow for this place. I need three pieces of data: first, the thickness and extent of the oil sands layer; second, how deep we expect to drill to reach liquid crude oil; and third, how to plan the transportation route."

"Young Master, are you really sure there's oil there?" Uncle Wang couldn't help but ask. "The Ottomans and the British have both searched this desert, but apart from the Persian side, no large oil fields have ever been found on the Arabian Peninsula."

"They've come to the wrong place." Chen Feng's finger moved across the map. "The oil along the Persian Gulf is mainly distributed in two areas: one is in Persia (Iran), where it has already been discovered; the other is here—" His finger stopped at the location that would later be called the "Ghawar Oil Field," the world's largest onshore oil field, but which is still an unknown desert.

"The eastern edge of the Arabian Peninsula, from Kuwait to Qatar, is entirely underground. It's just buried quite deep, requiring wells to be drilled at depths of 1,000 meters or even deeper. The Ottomans didn't have the technology, and the British hadn't yet paid attention to this area."

Uncle Wang took a deep breath: "If it really exists... what does that mean?"

"It means we'll never have to worry about money again," Chen Feng said, his eyes gleaming. "It means we can trade oil for everything—machinery, technology, weapons, even... international recognition."

"But this also means danger," Wang Bo warned. "Possessing a treasure is a crime. If the British find out there's oil here..."

"So we need to keep it a secret." Chen Feng tapped the table. "The exploration will be conducted under the guise of 'searching for groundwater.' After oil is discovered, we will extract it on a small scale and refine it on-site, producing only kerosene and diesel for our own use. Large-scale development will have to wait until we have sufficient strength to protect it."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Uncle Wang, you will personally oversee this matter. Everyone on the exploration team must sign a confidentiality agreement, their families must be centrally housed, and they are not allowed to contact the outside world without permission. During the exploration period, send a company of soldiers to protect them, and tell the outside world... we are testing a new agricultural irrigation technology."

"Understood." Uncle Wang solemnly wrote it down.

"Furthermore," Chen Feng added, "starting today, we will establish 'Lanfang Petroleum Company.' It will be registered in Switzerland, with shareholders in offshore trusts, and the legal representative using a foreign name. We need to make this shell as thick as possible, so that even if the British discover it in the future, they won't be able to find out that Lanfang is behind it."

The meeting ended late at night.

Chen Feng walked alone to the rooftop of the administration building, looking down at Dubai Port. Three years ago, there were only a few dilapidated thatched huts here; now there are docks, factories, residential areas, schools, hospitals, and warehouses. The lights at night form a continuous expanse, like pearls scattered on black velvet.

In the distance, the silhouette of a German ocean liner was faintly visible in the moonlight. Further away, ten Dreadnought-class battleships lay silently anchored in the deep waters, six already flying the German naval ensign, three the Austro-Hungarian flag, and one the Argentine flag. They were about to depart to change the fate of their respective nations.

What Chen Feng traded for was Lanfang's future.

"Commander-in-Chief".

A voice came from behind. It was Wang Wenwu, holding a telegram in his hand.

"Just received it, forwarded from Singapore." Wang Wenwu handed over the telegram. "The British have noticed our large-scale purchases. The Singapore colonial government is inquiring why there is suddenly so much Chinese capital acquiring Australian iron ore and Malayan tin mines."

Chen Feng took the telegram and glanced at it: "What was your reply?"

"As you instructed beforehand, the reply was: the Nanyang Chinese Chamber of Commerce is making joint investments to stabilize raw material supplies and reduce production costs," Wang Wenwu said. "But I estimate the British won't believe it easily. Their espionage system in Singapore is very advanced; sooner or later they'll find out about the Persian Gulf."

"We'll hold out for as long as we can." Chen Feng handed the telegram back to Wang Wenwu. "We need at least two years. Within two years, our industrial system should be in its initial stages, oil production should begin, and our army should be fully trained."

"Two years..." Wang Wenwu smiled wryly, "Will the British only notice this place two years later?"

"Normally, no," Chen Feng said, gazing at the starry sky. "But what if something big happens and attracts their attention?"

"What's the big deal?"

Chen Feng did not answer. He knew in his heart that in 1905, the world was on the eve of a great change. The Russo-Japanese War was about to end, the First Moroccan Crisis was brewing, the Persian Constitutional Revolution was about to break out, and the Ottoman Empire was teetering on the brink of collapse... These major events would all tie down the attention of the great powers.

What he had to do was to create space for Lanfang's survival and development in the gaps between these major events.

"Wenwu, you're leaving tomorrow." Chen Feng turned to look at him. "First to Singapore, then Australia, South Africa, and Chile. Remember, you're not going to buy mines, you're going to plant seeds. Every investment must look like a purely commercial transaction. Every mine must have a local partner, preferably British or German."

"Understood." Wang Wenwu nodded. "I will be careful."