Chapter Thirty-Two: Vitality, Energy, and Spirit

The year 1893 could be counted as the most relaxed year Feng Chengqian had experienced since arriving in this era.

He knew that, unless the history he was familiar with took an unexpected turn, this would also be the last year he could spend at ease.

Despite this mental ease, there was still no shortage of matters to attend to.

At the end of the year, at the request of the Kaiser, Feng Chengqian returned from Wilhelmshaven to take part in the Christmas festivities personally hosted by the Emperor and to attend the royal banquet.

Frederick III lived a habitually frugal life, but on rare occasions such as this, he would indulge in some extravagance. A royal banquet for the ministers of state could not be anything less than lavish.

It had been five years since Feng Chengqian arrived in this era. Although he was still not accepted by the Junker nobility, he had long become a well-known figure in the Empire, and was well-liked within the royal family.

This was thanks largely to Frederick III and Crown Prince Wilhelm.

Feng Chengqian understood the Kaiser's intentions all too well. Five years ago, Frederick III had already hinted that, since Feng Chengqian was alone and without support in this world, it would be hard for him to develop and thrive by his own efforts. The best option, the Emperor suggested, was to marry a princess and thus be tied to the imperial family.

Becoming a member of the royal family would entirely change his status.

To this end, Frederick III made many arrangements: frequently summoning him to Potsdam Palace, keeping him for dinners after discussing state matters, and so on.

Within the imperial family, the only princess of suitable age was Princess Sophie.

However, Feng Chengqian had no such intentions. It was not that Princess Sophie was unattractive—according to his knowledge of history, she would later marry the King of Greece and become Queen, so she could hardly be considered ugly. Nor was it a lack of interest in matters between men and women; as a young man in his prime, he certainly had such interests.

Feng Chengqian had given the matter much thought, and what worried him most was the negative impact that marrying into the imperial family would bring.

After all, he had no intention of spending his life in the German Empire; when the time was right, he would leave the country and Europe altogether. Marrying Princess Sophie and becoming the imperial son-in-law would not benefit his future endeavors.

The problem was, he could not possibly tell Frederick III what he really thought.

As a result, the Kaiser only assumed that Feng Chengqian was interested in Princess Sophie but hesitated because of his status, and so did not dare accept the Emperor’s kind arrangements.

To Frederick III, status was a trifling matter.

Noble titles and official positions were gifts from the Kaiser; if he wished, he could elevate Feng Chengqian’s rank at any time.

At the banquet, the Emperor broached the subject: for Feng Chengqian’s contributions in planning and organizing the Imperial Navy, he intended to grant him a ducal title and lands.

The Emperor meant well, but Feng Chengqian dared not accept.

Over the past five years, Feng Chengqian had enjoyed the Emperor’s trust and favor; he had visited Potsdam Palace more often than even Chancellor Bismarck, and there was already some resentment brewing. If he were further ennobled as a duke, even without an estate, it would certainly arouse jealousy and have negative consequences.

Besides, he cared little for a noble title in the Empire.

Frederick III knew Feng Chengqian’s predicament, so after he politely declined, the Emperor did not press the matter of ennobling him any further.

After the banquet, the royal family held the customary Christmas ball.

Feng Chengqian could dance, though not well, and he did not much enjoy it. Instead, he accompanied Crown Prince Wilhelm and a few other royals to the tea room.

At first, their conversation was of trivial matters.

Soon, Crown Prince Wilhelm steered the topic to something that interested Feng Chengqian.

“I’ve heard the Emperor of Japan has issued an edict, deciding to take three hundred thousand yen from the royal budget every year and to allocate a tenth of officials’ salaries to support the navy,” Wilhelm said, glancing at the other royals before continuing. “Though Japan is an island nation, and its survival depends on its navy, it’s remarkable that such a backward, impoverished country can attach so much importance to naval development. It’s something we ought to learn from.”

“Our Empire is fundamentally different from Japan, brother. You don’t believe we need to follow their example, do you?” asked Prince Heinrich, the Emperor’s second son and second in line to the throne, who now held the rank of colonel in the Imperial Army.

“Whether or not we need to learn from Japan is one thing; whether we value our navy is quite another.” Crown Prince Wilhelm and Prince Heinrich had never gotten along well, largely due to the circumstances of their childhood. “A powerful empire needs more than just a strong army; it needs a formidable navy as well. Germany cannot remain a continental power forever; one day we must step onto the world stage, and for that, a mighty navy is essential. I have already petitioned Father to donate my entire royal stipend next year to the Imperial Navy.”

“So you’re saying we are being stingy?” Prince Heinrich, a little embarrassed, retorted.

“We are both princes of the Empire and subjects of our father, but above all we are members of the Empire. If we want Germany to be strong, we must set an example.”

“With such generosity, brother, we have little to say. Still, I believe the army must remain our foundation.”

“I am not opposed to the army as our foundation, but we should never belittle or ignore the navy.”

…

As the two princes debated, Feng Chengqian’s thoughts drifted elsewhere.

To him, it was no secret that the Emperor of Japan placed great emphasis on the navy; indeed, he valued not only the navy but the fundamentals of national strength. After the Meiji Restoration, for instance, the Emperor had donated his royal stipend to education and provided students with nutritious breakfasts.

This reminded Feng Chengqian that for Germany to grow strong, it needed more than just a navy.

Many things had to be addressed at the root.

Bismarck had already made some progress, introducing labor protection laws, strictly regulating working hours and wages, and establishing social security systems. Yet these measures were not enough; the Empire needed greater investment in education, healthcare, and other social welfare fields.

Another matter came to Feng Chengqian’s mind: the situation in the Far East.

If all went according to plan, next year Japan would take delivery of four major warships from Britain, giving it the strength to challenge the Beiyang Fleet of the Qing.

Given Japanese policy, so long as they could win at sea, they would deliberately provoke war.

If history did not diverge greatly, then next year, 1894, an uprising by the Donghak Peasant Army would break out in Korea, giving Japan a pretext to dispatch troops.

Would Li Hongzhang back down?

The answer was obvious: no. The Beiyang Fleet still held the advantage, and Li Hongzhang, proud and self-assured, had never taken Japan seriously.

War was inevitable, yet its outcome was hard to foresee.

The “Emperor Frederick” was already completed, and the “Emperor Wilhelm” would be finished next year; it was time to form the Imperial Far East Fleet.

As Feng Chengqian thought of this, the princes’ conversation shifted.

“I’ve heard that the Empress Dowager of the Great Qing is preparing for her sixtieth birthday, buying rare treasures from all over the world and spending tens of millions of taels in silver,” remarked Prince Waldemar, only twenty-five, the Emperor’s youngest son and just two years older than Princess Sophie. “The Qing is certainly rich; to spend so much on a birthday celebration—no wonder other countries have their eyes on them.”

“What’s the point of such wealth?” Crown Prince Wilhelm shook his head with a smile. “Wealth without strength only makes one prey in the eyes of other nations.”

“Tensions between the Qing and Japan are high. It’s only a matter of time before war breaks out. Who do you think will win?”

“That’s hard to say. The Qing is powerful but utterly corrupt, while Japan, though weak, is determined and diligent. If war breaks out, the outcome is far from certain.”

Feng Chengqian smiled and said, “I think the Qing’s chances of victory are slim.”

“Oh?” Crown Prince Wilhelm immediately turned his gaze to him.

“Did not Napoleon III once boast of having the best army in Europe? Yet after the Battle of Sedan, he and his army became prisoners of our Empire, and even Paris could not be saved. The strength of a nation depends not only on its power but on the spirit of its people.”

“What do you mean by spirit?” Prince Heinrich asked.

Though he differed with Wilhelm on naval matters, Heinrich admired Feng Chengqian and held him in high esteem.

“To explain it fully would take a long time. Put simply, it is whether—from the emperor to the common people—a nation possesses the will to strive for improvement,” Feng Chengqian replied, pausing briefly. “It is a shared conviction at the spiritual level. With such unity, even a weak nation can give its all in war and defeat a stronger foe. Since the Meiji Restoration, Japan has forged such a common purpose; thus, in war, its chances of victory are much greater.”

“So, Count, you favor Japan?”

Feng Chengqian smiled. “Only for now. For a nation like Japan, the only path to growth is outward expansion. Sooner or later, it will clash with powerful old empires. War may bring success, but it will also bring ruin. In the end, Japan will lose all it gained on the battlefield, even its capital, and perhaps its independence and freedom as well.”

“This…”

“As the Crown Prince has said, Germany and Japan are similar—both are latecomers among the great powers. The problems we see in Japan may also appear in our Empire, so we must do our utmost to avoid them.”

Prince Heinrich nodded thoughtfully, evidently moved by Feng Chengqian’s words.

“Fortunately, all the advantages Japan possesses, our Empire has as well, and even more so,” Feng Chengqian continued, not wishing to dampen the princes’ spirits. “More importantly, the Empire has princes such as yourselves, a chancellor as diligent as Bismarck, and citizens full of drive and vigor. As long as we choose the right path and avoid grave mistakes, Germany will one day become a world power.”

“It seems, Count, that you have more confidence than any of us,” Wilhelm concluded.

At this, the princes all laughed, and the atmosphere became much more congenial.