Chapter Seven: The Root of Conflict

In the history familiar to Feng Chengqian, public opinion on Crown Prince Wilhelm, or later Kaiser Wilhelm II, was divided. Benefiting from the legacy of his two imperial predecessors, the German Empire reached its zenith under Wilhelm II—not only as the preeminent continental power but also as the possessor of the world’s second-largest navy. In overall national strength, Germany far surpassed Britain, while across the Atlantic, the United States still clung to its policy of “splendid isolation,” indifferent to European affairs. On the eve of the First World War, the German Empire was but a step away from becoming a “world empire.” Some historians believe that, had the war not broken out, Germany could have bested the British Empire by the 1920s without firing a shot—simply by dragging it down in the costly naval arms race. Unfortunately, the outbreak of war shattered Germany’s imperial dreams. When the smoke cleared, the Second Reich was relegated to history.

Wilhelm II built up Germany’s mighty navy but made an enemy of Britain too soon.

Although Feng Chengqian knew that his arrival had altered history—Frederick III would not die ninety-nine days after ascending the throne, and the Crown Prince would not become emperor this year—some things remained unchanged, such as Wilhelm’s passion for the navy.

As far as Feng was aware, Wilhelm’s fascination with the navy predated his accession to the throne. The root of this lay in his grandmother, who commanded the world’s most powerful fleet and used it to carve out the largest colonial empire, making Britain the true “empire on which the sun never sets.” Moreover, Wilhelm had always been at odds with his uncle, the Prince of Wales—later Edward VII—and their frequent verbal clashes only fueled Wilhelm’s naval ambitions.

All these events had transpired before Feng’s arrival and were thus untouched by his influence.

“The Count cured my father’s illness; it is only right that I come to thank you in person, but…”

“Your Highness is too kind. To serve His Majesty is my duty and honor.”

Wilhelm smiled, and Feng Chengqian returned the gesture. Both men quietly observed each other.

Though Wilhelm had long known that a mysterious Oriental had cured his father, today was his first time meeting Feng in person. Naturally, he was curious. Feng, too, was intrigued, for the crown prince appeared far more spirited than in the photographs preserved in history books.

“My father mentioned that the Count is responsible only for imperial naval affairs?”

“I am but an unworthy servant. It is already my good fortune to relieve His Majesty of any burden; I dare not presume to ask for more.”

“The Count’s equanimity is admirable.”

Feng did not respond; after all, he did not yet understand the crown prince who sat before him.

“In any case, let’s consider this a beginning.” Wilhelm sighed, then changed the subject, “Count, do you believe the Empire needs a navy?”

“Of course, and not just needs—it is imperative.”

“Imperative?”

“A man needs two legs to walk. A strong empire needs both an army and a navy. To possess only a powerful army is like walking on one leg.”

Wilhelm’s brow twitched; he couldn’t help but size Feng up again.

“But tomorrow’s bread can’t be sown today,” Feng sighed. “Your Highness is anxious for the country and its people, but these vexing matters…”

“Count, you are too modest. I came today precisely to offer you my support.”

“Your Highness…”

“You have relieved my father’s burdens; as his son, I am deeply grateful. If there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“To have the crown prince’s support is the greatest honor for your humble servant. Only, for now, all is yet to be begun…”

“And it will be the same in the future.”

Feng smiled, understanding the crown prince’s meaning.

“I must go see my father now and won’t keep you longer. When you have time, please do come and visit. I believe there will be much for us to discuss.”

“Your Highness’s invitation is my command.”

After bidding farewell to the crown prince, Feng did not dare linger in the palace. He left with Schmidt and returned to the count’s residence.

It was clear that the crown prince’s enthusiasm for the navy was identical to that of the Wilhelm II Feng remembered from history; he would undoubtedly become the navy’s staunchest advocate in the future. With the crown prince speaking on his behalf, Feng would be spared from intervening in many matters directly.

But how to actually build an imperial navy remained a daunting question. As the saying goes, “All beginnings are hard.” Creating a formidable navy from nothing left Feng at a loss for where to start.

In the plan he had submitted to the emperor, Feng had not presented any detailed proposal—nor had he prepared one. With only two days to work, even a rough outline was an accomplishment.

Back at the count’s residence, Feng forced himself to calm down and reconsider the construction of the imperial navy from the ground up.

In this world, Feng had neither family nor friends; only by immersing himself in work could he stave off the emptiness and loneliness. For him, the role of Minister of War was merely a job.

Fortunately, he was long accustomed to living alone. In his own era, most people lived independently from birth.

Buried in his work, time passed swiftly.

On April 8th, Feng received an imperial edict: as Minister of War and acting Minister of the Navy, he was to accompany Emperor Frederick III, Empress Victoria, and Princess Victoria on a visit to Britain. The crown prince would remain in Berlin as regent, assisting the chancellor in state affairs.

The next day, Feng boarded the royal train bound for Wilhelmshaven.

According to the itinerary, the delegation would travel by royal steamer to Portsmouth, then take a British royal train to London to attend the Queen’s banquet at Buckingham Palace.

As for the subsequent arrangements, Feng had no interest in inquiring further.

For this journey, Frederick III had specially instructed Gustav to tailor a formal suit for Feng and arranged for him a female companion.

The emperor’s intentions were good, but the outcome was awkward, for the companion was Princess Sophie.

This placed Feng in a difficult position.

According to the history he knew, Princess Sophie would in a few years marry King Constantine I of Greece and become Queen of Greece. The emperor’s arrangement was clearly intended to absorb Feng into the royal family.

All Feng wanted was to change history, to alter the fate of the German Empire, but he had never intended to change the destiny of an imperial princess.

Fortunately, Princess Sophie was well-educated and nearly eighteen—she was not difficult to deal with.

As the train traveled east, Feng buried himself in documents, uninterested in the scenery outside, let alone in making conversation with the princess.

These papers had been sent by the crown prince’s aides and included materials relating to the empire’s economy.

Clearly, the crown prince was a man of action. This contradicted Feng’s impression of Wilhelm as an indecisive ruler—perhaps the Wilhelm of today was markedly different from the Wilhelm of decades hence.

The morning passed without incident.

According to the information provided by the crown prince, the empire’s economy was in relatively good shape, but there were severe trade problems—just as Feng had expected.

As a newly industrialized power, the German Empire lacked corresponding overseas markets; trade was bound to be an issue.

The problem was not that German industrial products lacked competitiveness, but that the empire had too few colonies and thus could not access cheap resources or exclusive markets.

Trade had become the empire’s greatest economic challenge.

How severe was this issue?

The rift between the empire and Russia stemmed from trade: to protect its own agriculture, Germany imposed steep tariffs on imported agricultural goods. Russia, being a major exporter of such products, found its export channels blocked by German protectionism.

Of course, the dispute with Russia was but the tip of the iceberg.

In the export sector, Germany provided enormous subsidies to exporters and aggressively promoted exports, competing with businesses worldwide.

In nearly every field, Germany clashed with the other great powers. For instance, when the Qing dynasty ordered warships, German shipyards snatched orders that would have gone to Britain.

In the industrial age, international conflicts were primarily economic, with trade at the center.

Even if no other disputes existed, Germany’s economic rise would threaten the established powers, leading to irreconcilable conflict.

When such tensions reached a certain point, war would be inevitable.

In this sense, the fundamental conflict between Germany and France, Russia, and Britain lay here.

Could the empire afford to stand still?

The answer was obviously no—even with a mediocre emperor, powerful interest groups controlling the economy would not allow the empire to remain stagnant.

A unified German Empire was destined to grow stronger and inevitably become a formidable rival to the old imperial powers.

Recognizing this, one saw that a life-and-death struggle between the new and old empires was unavoidable—a first world war of the industrial age.

War was inevitable; the only option was to seek every opportunity for victory.

Feng understood this clearly, but no one else possessed his clarity of vision.

After lunch, Feng shut himself in his compartment once more.

He lost track of time until the commotion outside disturbed him.

“Go and see what’s happening.”

Schmidt nodded and stepped out, soon returning.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s Princess Sophie and Princess Margaret.”

Feng frowned. Frederick III had not brought his sons but had brought four princesses—or rather, three, for the eldest, Princess Charlotte, was already married to Duke Bernhard III of Saxe-Meiningen and resided at her family home.

“Count, should I—?”

“No need. Just pretend they don’t exist,” Feng sighed. Being the father of four sons and four daughters was clearly no easy task.

“Count, we’re about to arrive.”

“Wilhelmshaven already?”

Schmidt pointed out the window; Wilhelmshaven was already in sight.