Chapter Fifty-Eight: Retreating Amidst the Torrent

In the matter of the Empire's Far Eastern policy, aside from Feng Chengqian, two individuals wielded the most influence: Baron Richthofen, Minister for Far Eastern Affairs, and Admiral Tirpitz, who had served as commander of the Far Eastern Fleet for seven years. Thus, when the Kaiser formulated policy for the Far East, their perspectives required careful consideration.

For this reason, at the start of March, the Kaiser specially summoned Baron Richthofen back to report on his duties.

Owing to his position, Feng Chengqian did not appear overly enthusiastic. He focused only on emphasizing the importance of the Far Eastern region, and on the necessity of taking advantage of the continuous turmoil in the newly established Great Min Republic, following the downfall of the Qing dynasty, to gain control of the area and acquire a prosperous colony, akin to India.

For the Kaiser, this was a tremendous temptation.

Britain's global dominance, after all, had been built on colonies such as India. The official title of the King of England was "King of Great Britain and Emperor of India," underscoring India's significance. Without such a wealthy colony, even if Britain dominated Africa and controlled Oceania, it could not secure the resources needed for its global hegemony.

If the German Empire could obtain such a colony, it would have a far greater chance of supplanting Britain.

Looking across the globe, only the Great Min Republic possessed such potential.

Of course, the Great Min Republic was not India.

During the Qing dynasty’s reign, no foreign nation had ever fully conquered this vast land of four hundred million people—whose territory was four times that of India. Even if the Great Min Republic was mired in civil unrest, the German Empire could not simply replicate Britain's colonial methods in India.

To seize this opportunity, a new path was required.

Feng Chengqian knew well what needed to be done, but did not propose it to the Kaiser. His absolute trust with the Kaiser was rooted in his unwavering loyalty to the Empire. If the matter touched upon the Great Min Republic, particularly basic colonial policy, the Kaiser might well begin to suspect his motives.

Fortunately, Feng Chengqian had no need to speak of these things.

The day after Baron Richthofen returned to Berlin, he proceeded directly to the Potsdam Palace to present the Kaiser with a crucial and enticing proposal: the best way for the Empire to expand its influence in the Great Min Republic was not conquest, but support. In Richthofen’s words, through military, diplomatic, and material assistance, the Empire was fully capable of cultivating a pro-German regime within the Great Min Republic, thereby ensuring exclusive rights and shutting out all other powers.

Soon after, Tirpitz also presented his counsel to the Kaiser: to arm a local warlord in the Great Min Republic with a sufficiently strong army, assist him in seizing or establishing a powerful central government, end the internal strife, and set the country on a swift path to order, so that it might become a pillar in the Far East—helping the Empire counterbalance the established powers of Britain and France, and thereby easing pressure in Europe.

Clearly, the recommendations of both Richthofen and Tirpitz revolved around the same core: supporting the Great Min Republic.

In the long term, this was the most ideal choice. The Kaiser understood perfectly that, given twenty years, and with the full support of the Empire, this ancient Eastern nation could thrive—and, through the Empire’s aid, become its ally.

The question was: could they afford to wait twenty years?

Even setting aside British and French intervention in the Far East, the mere fact of monopolizing interests there would amount to a reshuffling of the global order among the great powers.

This would inevitably lead Britain and France to launch war.

Simply put, Britain and France would certainly strike before the Great Min Republic could rise, with the aim of crushing the German Empire.

On March 27th, the Kaiser convened an imperial council.

As before, Feng Chengqian did not volunteer any proposal, leaving Richthofen and Tirpitz to take the stage so as to avoid arousing the Kaiser’s suspicions.

But the Kaiser did not intend to allow him to remain silent.

“Duke, do you have no opinions or suggestions?”

“Your Majesty…”

“At the last two meetings, you have held your peace. I understand your reasons,” Frederick III said with a gentle smile. “In this matter, it is indeed difficult for you to speak your mind, given your unique position. But remember: loyalty to the Empire does not mean silence. True loyalty is always thinking of the Empire’s interests and offering counsel. Your silence does not dispel my doubts. Over the past decade, your contributions have been plain for all to see; you should set aside your worries and speak freely.”

Feng Chengqian exhaled, knowing the Kaiser’s words were gracious.

“His Majesty is right—the Duke knows the Qing better than any of us and can consider things most thoroughly,” Crown Prince Wilhelm added, aware of Feng Chengqian’s concerns. “If Father doubted you, he would not include you in such vital deliberations, so you need not be so cautious.”

Feng Chengqian realized he was now the focus of all eyes and had to make his position clear.

“It is my honor to have Your Majesty’s and Your Highness’s trust, but I have one presumptuous request.”

The Kaiser nodded for him to continue.

“The matter of the Great Min Republic is at once simple and complex, but there is a very straightforward solution.” Feng Chengqian paused, then continued, “I only beg Your Majesty, once this affair is concluded, to permit me to resign my post as Minister of Naval Warfare.”

“This… and why?”

“As Your Majesty has said, my position is most unusual; whatever I do is bound to arouse suspicion.”

“You think I would doubt you?” Frederick III’s tone grew somewhat irate.

“For over ten years, Your Majesty has always trusted me, a great honor indeed, but…”

“But what?”

“Your Majesty’s trust is not the same as the Empire’s trust.”

Frederick III’s brow twitched; he knew what Feng Chengqian meant.

Within the Empire, especially among the high ranks, there were many who doubted Feng Chengqian, some even suspecting him of being a Qing spy.

The Kaiser sighed. “Very well, I grant your request for now. After this matter is settled, you may resign as Minister of Naval Warfare, but you must remain in the Empire and continue to serve me and the Empire. I will find you a suitable position.”

“With Your Majesty’s permission, I have no further concerns.”

“The Duke mentioned a simple solution—what is it?” the Crown Prince interjected.

“To make use of the labor force employed in expanding the Kiel Canal.”

Frederick III was momentarily taken aback, as was the Crown Prince. Then, realization dawned, and both could not help but admire Feng Chengqian’s proposition.

Indeed, it was an extraordinarily simple solution.

Three days later, the Kaiser appointed Baron Richthofen to recruit fifty thousand volunteers from among the laborers who already enjoyed special status within the Empire, and allocated ten billion marks from the army budget to procure a vast arsenal from military firms such as Krupp.

Within six months, after rigorous military training, these fifty thousand laborers would become highly qualified professional soldiers.

According to plan, before the end of the year, this army would depart for the Great Min Republic—at first deployed as imperial mercenaries in places like Qingdao. Once Richthofen identified a suitable figurehead, this army would march to war, fighting for the interests of the German Empire.

On April 1st, Feng Chengqian formally submitted his resignation to the Kaiser.

Two days later, he journeyed to the hereditary estate the Kaiser had granted him.

This was the first time since receiving his ducal title that Feng Chengqian set foot on his own lands; his residence was a castle with over three centuries of history.

Such castles were not uncommon in the German Empire.

Feng Chengqian’s departure left the Kaiser somewhat melancholy. It was not until three months later that the Kaiser appointed Admiral Tirpitz as Commander-in-Chief of the Navy and Minister of Naval Warfare.

By contrast, Feng Chengqian felt no disappointment at all.

When he made his request to resign, it was with clarity of mind: had he not stepped aside, those officials and nobles dissatisfied with him—or suspicious of him—would have shifted their pressure to the Kaiser. No matter how close his relationship with the Kaiser, there could be no guarantee suspicion would never arise.

In truth, this worry had plagued Feng Chengqian for years.

Let it not be forgotten: the Empress was the Princess Royal of Britain, and her relationship with the Kaiser was excellent. Though the Kaiser kept state matters separate from family, and the Empress understood well the distinction between royal and national interests, it was inevitable that she would resent the naval minister with an Eastern face, since his naval armament plan had been the root of the Empire’s break with Britain.

It was easily imagined that, with the Empress whispering in the Kaiser’s ear and the influence of the ministers and nobility, the Kaiser’s trust in Feng Chengqian would not be sustained forever by gratitude alone.

The Empire’s Far Eastern strategy was certain to sow seeds of distrust between Feng Chengqian and the Kaiser.

For Feng Chengqian, the wisest course was to relinquish power and leave the center of the storm before suspicion could take root—thereby leaving his detractors with nothing to say.

From another perspective, by stepping down voluntarily, Feng Chengqian also ensured his proposals would be adopted.

Put simply, as long as he wielded influence, even the best proposal might arouse the Kaiser’s doubts.

To be without official position did not mean to be deprived of means.

As a hereditary duke of the Empire, Feng Chengqian not only possessed his own estates and received a substantial annual stipend, but also had over a decade’s savings.

For Feng Chengqian, a peaceful life in his castle was not a poor choice.

Yet this tranquil and comfortable existence was not to last.

As the architect of the Imperial Navy, Feng Chengqian was not forgotten by the Kaiser, nor by the commander who succeeded him.

On the eve of Christmas, 1912, Admiral Tirpitz made a special trip, bringing not only a pile of Christmas gifts but also an imperial edict from the Kaiser.

Feng Chengqian could not leave the German Empire, and the German Empire could not do without him.