roccoschili Chapter 760 Talks must be conducted with sincerity, not empty words.
Chapter 760 Talks must be conducted with sincerity, not empty words.
Dubai, the presidential residence.
Wang Wenwu pushed open the door and came in, holding a stack of telegrams in his hand.
"President, the British are here again."
Chen Feng was reading the battle report from Australia, without even looking up.
"Again? How many times has this happened?"
"This is the third time. Through Switzerland, Spain, and Merica, they've tried to reconcile through various channels."
Chen Feng put down the documents in his hand and looked up.
"What did they say?"
Wang Wenwu looked at the telegram and read it aloud.
"The British government is willing to engage in peace talks with Lanfang at any time and in any place. We hope the President will consider halting military operations to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."
Chen Feng smiled.
"Unnecessary bloodshed? When they were beating us, why didn't they say 'avoid unnecessary bloodshed'?"
He stood up and walked to the window.
Tell them, "I won't see you."
Wang Wenwu hesitated for a moment.
"President, would you like to meet them? Let's hear what they have to say?"
Chen Feng turned around and looked at him.
"Minister Wang, do you know why the British are so eager to sue for peace now?"
Wang Wenwu shook his head.
Chen Feng walked to the map and pointed to Australia.
"Because they know that India can't hold out, and neither can Australia. They're seeking peace now in order to save Australia. Once our army reaches the outskirts of Melbourne, they won't even be able to hold out for Australia."
He turned to look at Wang Wenwu.
"Tell them that if they want to talk, we'll talk after we take Melbourne."
Wang Wenwu nodded and turned to leave.
"Wait a minute," Chen Feng called out to him.
Wang Wenwu stopped.
Chen Feng remained silent for three seconds.
"Tell them that Lanfang welcomes peace. But peace must be earned with sincerity, not empty words."
Wang Wenwu nodded and turned to leave.
Chen Feng stood alone by the window, looking at the shimmering sea in the distance.
He thought of the soldiers marching in Australia, the tanks racing through the desert, and the young people sitting in trucks.
They traveled thousands of kilometers just to let the British know that the people of Lanfang were not to be trifled with.
Now the British want to talk?
Let's wait until they get to Melbourne.
Australia, Northern Route.
The vanguard of the 4th Division had advanced to within 500 kilometers of Darwin. In ten days, they had covered 800 kilometers. The tank tracks were worn thin, the truck tires had burst, and the soldiers' feet were covered in blisters.
But no one stopped.
Liu Zhenjie stood on a jeep, holding up binoculars and looking at the coastline that was getting closer and closer.
Chief of Staff Zhang Haiyang ran over and handed him a water bottle.
"Commander, have some water. You haven't had a drop since this morning."
Liu Zhenjie took the water bottle, took a big gulp, and wiped his mouth.
How much further?
Zhang Haiyang pointed to the map.
"We are still 500 kilometers from Darwin. Reconnaissance planes report that the British are fortifying the city's defenses and concentrating all their troops inside. There are approximately 3,000 men."
Liu Zhenjie nodded.
"Three thousand men. That should keep us fighting for a while."
He lowered his binoculars and watched the marching troops.
"Tell the brothers to keep up the good work. Three days later, we'll reach Darwin. Five days later, we'll take it down."
Zhang Haiyang nodded and turned to relay the order.
Liu Zhenjie continued to look at the increasingly bright sky ahead.
almost.
almost.
Dubai, the presidential residence.
A week later, Wang Wenwu pushed the door open and came in again.
"Your Excellency, the British have arrived again. This time it's a formal delegation. The head of the delegation is the former Viceroy of India, Lord Chelmsford."
Chen Feng was reading the battle report from Australia, without even looking up.
"Let him wait."
Two hours later, Chen Feng finally appeared in the reception room.
Chelmsford rose and bowed deeply. This once high-ranking British nobleman, head bowed, spoke in the most humble tone:
"Your Excellency, the British Empire is on the verge of collapse. We hope to engage in peace talks with you."
Chen Feng looked at him and remained silent for three seconds.
Then he stood up and walked to the huge world map on the wall. He picked up a red pen and drew a huge circle around Britain's territory in Asia and Oceania.
"The British are withdrawing from Asia entirely. Lanfang will not launch an attack on Africa."
Chelmsford's face turned deathly pale instantly.
"Your Excellency, this...this is impossible. India can accept autonomy, but Australia—that's British territory, it's been ours for centuries..."
Chen Feng interrupted him.
"For hundreds of years? You've been in Australia for hundreds of years, and it's still Aboriginal land. What you've taken, others can take away too."
Chelmsford opened his mouth, but couldn't say a word.
Chen Feng walked back to his seat and sat down.
"That concludes the first round of negotiations. You can go back and discuss it with London. Come back when you've reached an agreement."
Chelmsford stood there stunned, and was "invited" out by Wang Wenwu.
The meeting room at 10 Downing Street was thick with choking smoke. The long table was packed with people—Secretary of State for War Kitchener, First Lord of the Navy Jellicoe, Foreign Secretary Gray, Secretary of State for Colonial Affairs Cecil, and a large group of generals, staff officers, and secretaries. Each person had a thick stack of telegrams in front of them, and each face bore a different degree of despair.
Asquith sat in the main seat, holding the message that had just been sent back from Dubai.
"The first round of negotiations broke down. Chen Feng refused to compromise."
He put down the telegram, looked up, and gazed at the silent faces.
The conference room was deathly silent.
Kitchener finally spoke, his voice hoarse as if sandpaper were rubbing against a steel plate.
"Prime Minister, have you seen the battle reports from Australia?"
Asquith nodded.
"I've seen it. The Lanfang Army on the northern front has approached Darwin, and on the southern front it has crossed Adelaide and is advancing towards Melbourne."
Kitchener stood up and walked to the huge world map on the wall. He pointed to Australia, tapped it with his finger, and then slowly traced the entire continent.
"We have 30,000 men in Australia. The Lanfang people have 40,000. The troop strength ratio is 1:1.3. But we are scattered across six cities, while they concentrate their forces and take us down one by one. Darwin has 3,000 men, and they can't hold them off. Perth has 3,000 men, and they can't hold them off either. Adelaide has 2,000 men, and they've already lost it. Melbourne has 5,000 men, how long can they hold out?"
No one answered.
Kitchener continued, "Moreover, they have no backup. Our fleet can't get out, and reinforcements can't get through. The Lanfang people have the whole of Asia as their backing, factories in Dubai to build tanks, and manpower from Japan to replenish their ranks. What do we have?"
He walked back to his seat and sat down.
"We have nothing left."
The meeting room fell even more silent.
Foreign Secretary Gray said softly, "Prime Minister, could we try again? Perhaps with a different person, a different approach..."
Asquith looked at him.
"Who should we replace them with? Chelmsford isn't big enough? Chen Feng doesn't want people, he wants the land. He won't give up until he gets Australia."
Cecil suddenly spoke. His voice was calm, but every word was as heavy as a stone.
"Prime Minister, let me go."
Everyone was looking at him.
Cecil stood up and walked to the map.
"Chelmsford is too soft. His approach won't work on Chen Feng. Let me go. I know how to deal with Easterners."
Asquith looked at him and remained silent for three seconds.
How do you deal with people?
Cecil turned and looked at the people present.
"Tell them the truth. We can't hold out any longer. But we can give them what they want—except Australia. India's autonomy, Burma's independence, Malaya—we can give them all. But Australia, we can't."
Kitchener gave a cold laugh.
"Cecil, do you think Chen Feng is a fool? Malaya is already his, Myanmar is his, and he's fighting in India. You're offering what he already has in exchange for what he hasn't gotten?"
Cecil looked at him.
"Then what do you suggest we do?"
Kitchener did not speak.
Cecil turned to Asquith.
"Prime Minister, let me go. At the very least, I want Chen Feng to know that Britain is not a pushover. We are willing to talk, but we won't talk on our knees."
Asquith remained silent for a long time.
Then he nodded.
"Okay. Go ahead."
Cecil stood at attention, turned and left.
After the meeting room door closed, Asquith leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
He suddenly remembered a question.
What if Cecil also fails to reach an agreement?
he does not know.
But he knew that was his last chance.