Chapter Thirty-Seven: Spectators to the Drama

Feng Chengqian claimed he was going to sea to join the excitement, but in truth, he was avoiding suspicion. Though Korea was but a tiny nation, the conflict had entangled the major powers—America, Britain, and Russia. The Second German Empire had loaned funds to the Qing Dynasty, assisting it in strengthening its military, which had already aroused grave dissatisfaction among the Americans, British, and Russians. If Feng Chengqian were to step forward at this moment, he would surely provoke an even greater diplomatic storm. Besides, defeat for the Qing was inevitable; there was no reason for Feng Chengqian to involve himself and risk trouble.

If history remained unchanged, the next naval battle would erupt on September seventeenth.

There were still nearly two months to go; there was no excitement to witness yet.

As for the ground war in Korea, Feng Chengqian paid it little mind, or rather, he was not concerned about any unexpected outcome.

What had happened thus far did not differ greatly from the history he knew: Li Hongzhang appointing Ye Zhichao as commander, a cowardly man whose timidity would ultimately doom the Qing forces. The Japanese surprise attack on Seoul also matched the history familiar to Feng Chengqian.

For the next month or so, the main battlefield would be on land.

On the eighth day at sea, August first, Feng Chengqian received a telegram from Richthofen: the Qing had formally declared war on Japan.

Within the terse message, Richthofen mentioned a crucial detail: the Qing wished to end the war swiftly.

Upon reflection, Feng Chengqian understood at once.

That year marked the sixtieth birthday of the Qing Empress Dowager—widely known as Empress Dowager Cixi—and tens of millions of silver taels had already been spent in celebration. Clearly, the Empress Dowager did not want the war to disrupt her birthday festivities, so she issued an edict to Li Hongzhang, instructing the Grand Secretary to bring the conflict to a speedy close.

To seek an end to the war just as it began—such foresight was remarkable.

With this attitude, it would be more surprising if the Qing did not suffer defeat.

On August eighth, the fleet returned to Jiaozhou Bay.

At this time, the situation on the Korean battlefield remained chaotic; both sides were adjusting their troop deployments, and no major battle had yet erupted.

Of course, such a stalemate would not last long.

The Japanese were well-prepared, while the Qing forces were rushed into battle. Though both sides had roughly equal numbers, Japan held the advantage in every aspect.

Meanwhile, the German Emperor issued instructions, granting Feng Chengqian full authority over Far Eastern affairs.

In fact, this was to emphasize that Feng Chengqian, as the Minister for Far Eastern Affairs, reported directly to the Emperor, not the Imperial Chancellor.

Feng Chengqian understood the Emperor's intent, but at present, he truly could not make an appearance.

Back in Jiaozhou Bay, Feng Chengqian spent most of his time dealing with German entrepreneurs who had established factories in the Qing empire, helping them resolve difficulties.

The biggest issue was how to repay the Qing's military arms debt.

Though the Qing was obliged to pay, whether it could was another matter. Under the loan agreement, the Qing used the leasehold rights of Jiaozhou Bay to offset the interest payments. The German government held these rights, so it was responsible for paying the loan interest.

This was no small sum; not something that could be scraped together easily.

Moreover, those entrepreneurs who had set up factories in the Qing empire sought profit, not to return home with a stack of government IOUs.

Fortunately, Richthofen had already anticipated this problem for Feng Chengqian.

In the loan agreement, there was a provision: the Jiaozhou Bay area would be a duty-free zone, but this exemption applied only to the Qing, which could not levy taxes there. Thus, the Empire could collect taxes in Jiaozhou Bay, using the revenue to pay the interest, ensuring the enterprises’ interests were not harmed.

The entrepreneurs welcomed this arrangement.

However, regarding the tax rate, they disagreed, arguing it should not be set too high, so as to increase the competitiveness of German products in the Qing market and gain a broader foothold. Once sales increased, total tax revenue would not decrease merely due to a lower rate.

Initially, Feng Chengqian believed this would not work, given that the spheres of influence of the major powers in the Qing empire were already clearly demarcated.

After repeated consultations, Feng Chengqian finally relented, adopting the entrepreneurs’ proposal and setting a relatively low tax rate.

Though the partition of the Qing empire by the powers was inevitable, the Qing was not India—it had not been monopolized by any single power, and remained a sovereign nation. Thus, to open markets, foreign powers still had to rely on the competitiveness of their goods. If German enterprises enjoyed lower taxes, their products would sell for less. Clearly, in a country like the Qing, affordable and high-quality goods were most competitive.

Still, Feng Chengqian did not joke with the Empire’s interests.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, he made Krupp the nucleus of a newly established “Imperial Enterprise Alliance,” requiring the organization to serve the Empire’s interests, and stipulating that marketing strategies must align with imperial policy. Otherwise, they would not receive special tax exemptions.

If the Second German Empire wished to grow stronger, it had to unite its enterprises into a collective force.

Through this, Feng Chengqian also forged personal connections with numerous entrepreneurs, laying a solid foundation for his future return to the Empire.

Busy through September, Feng Chengqian finally enjoyed some leisure.

On September seventh, the Battle of Pyongyang began.

Though the Qing forces were well-equipped and enjoyed favorable conditions, their inept commander would turn a battle that should not have been lost into the Qing’s worst defeat on the Korean front.

In less than ten days, the Qing suffered defeat, and Pyongyang fell to the Japanese.

With Pyongyang lost, the Qing forces in Korea had no defensible positions left; morale collapsed, and they could not continue fighting the Japanese, but could only retreat north.

It would not be long before the Qing forces withdrew north of the Yalu River.

Would the Qing then admit defeat?

Clearly, Li Hongzhang would not surrender so easily; he would make one last stand, believing that his Beiyang Fleet could turn the tide.

On September fifteenth, Feng Chengqian boarded the armored cruiser "Emperor Frederick" once more.

That evening, the Imperial Far East Fleet departed Jiaozhou Bay, entered the Yellow Sea, and sailed directly east toward the mouth of the Yalu, eager to witness the unfolding drama.

Would Dagu Channel become the site of the decisive battle between the Beiyang Fleet and the Japanese Navy?

Feng Chengqian could not be certain; he only knew that the fighting on the Korean Peninsula matched history closely, so it was likely the Qing would use the sea route to transport troops to Korea.

Furthermore, Richthofen’s intelligence indicated that the Beiyang Fleet was indeed escorting troop transports to Korea.

Thus, Dagu Channel was highly likely to become the battleground for the two strongest fleets in the Far East.

After a day and two nights of high-speed sailing, the Far East Fleet arrived at Dagu Channel on the morning of the seventeenth. As instructed by Feng Chengqian, Tirpitz dispatched reconnaissance ships.

After dawn, Feng Chengqian deliberately arranged breakfast on the aft deck of the warship.

“Are we just waiting here?”

“Do you have any doubts?” Feng Chengqian replied politely. After several years in the Second German Empire, he had mastered Western customs and manners. “General, there’s no need to rush; what is destined to come will come. Baron Richthofen has already sent word: the entire Beiyang Fleet is at sea, and the main force of the Japanese Navy has left port as well. The Qing lost Pyongyang, and Li Hongzhang will not resign himself to defeat; he will certainly launch a counterattack. Though I am not a military expert, given Korea’s unique geography, the only way for Li Hongzhang to reverse the outcome is to land Qing troops on Korea’s west coast, perhaps near Incheon by Seoul, and then attack from the north.”

“So, the Qing troop transports are bound to arrive.”

Feng Chengqian nodded. “If we, without knowing the situation clearly, can reach this conclusion, the Japanese naval commanders surely can as well.”

“The problem is, no one knows when those transports will arrive.”

“Within the next two days, I imagine; it won’t drag on. If reinforcements don’t arrive in time, the Qing forces will retreat all the way, and landing behind enemy lines would be pointless.”

Tirpitz nodded thoughtfully, seeming to grasp Feng Chengqian’s meaning.

Before breakfast was finished, a messenger arrived: the reconnaissance ship had returned, and spotted the Qing Beiyang Fleet to the northwest.

Feng Chengqian did not let his fleet approach, but followed at a distance.

By keeping an eye on the Beiyang Fleet, they would inevitably encounter the Japanese Fleet.

Having discovered they were being shadowed by the Imperial Far East Fleet, the Beiyang Fleet signaled a welcome and did not react aggressively.

Throughout the morning, there was little to do.

Perhaps out of boredom, Feng Chengqian wandered about the warship he had personally designed and supervised, chatting with the rank-and-file sailors about ordinary matters.

Though the Imperial Navy was still in its infancy, the sailors’ morale was high and their discipline excellent.

If nothing else, the ship’s equipment was immaculately maintained, clearly the result of much effort and care.

Did the Beiyang Fleet’s officers and men possess such dedication?

If sailors did not cherish their ships, how could they be expected to triumph in battle?

After lunch, the sea remained calm; the Beiyang Fleet sailed ahead leisurely, and no black smoke appeared on the horizon.

Feng Chengqian was not idle; he returned to the command tower and began seeking advice from Imperial Navy officers.

Though he knew naval history, he was unfamiliar with contemporary naval tactics, and did not even know how to operate or control a warship. As the Imperial Minister of Naval Warfare, lacking navigational knowledge would soon make him a laughingstock, so Feng Chengqian devoted himself earnestly to learning seamanship.

When there is work to be done, time passes quickly.

While he was inquiring about fleet command from Tirpitz, an officer arrived to report: a large fleet had been spotted to the southeast.

The Japanese Fleet had finally appeared.

Feng Chengqian glanced at the clock—half past four in the afternoon. As it was summer in the northern hemisphere, there were still three hours until dusk.

If Feng Chengqian remembered correctly, history had not changed in any significant way.