dhibooks Chapter 239 Terauchi Shinichi in a Dilemma 1
Chapter 239 Terauchi Shinichi in a Dilemma 1
Fuzhou, temporary coastal defense command center.
The sea breeze slapped against the window, making the map of the Fujian-Zhejiang coastline on the wall tremble slightly. Chen Zijun placed the coded message he had just received on the corner of the table, but his eyes never left the nautical chart.
Blue and black pencil lines intersect in the waters off Xiamen, like two rows of knife tips touching each other across several nautical miles.
The Iwami, two light cruisers, four destroyers, and the few transport support ships that were dawdling behind were all circled in red and stopped not far outside the red line, neither retreating nor daring to actually push forward.
Shen Li turned to the latest page in his binoculars observation log, his voice calm, "Young Marshal, the Iwami's main guns are still positioned low. The two light cruisers are the same. The distance between them hasn't decreased, but their formation is tighter than last night, as if they're about to pounce."
The German advisor, Hans, frowned and pointed to the east side of the nautical chart. "Lowering the main gun doesn't mean it's going to fire immediately. But it has another purpose: to intimidate. If the coastal observation station gets nervous and acts erratically, we'll be the first to make a mistake. The Japanese are betting that you yourselves will lose your composure first."
Chen Zijun hummed in agreement, picked up a pencil, and lightly poked the spot on the sea where the Iwami was located. "They want to gamble, but I won't give them that chance."
Shen Li looked up. "Should we continue with the original format and frequency of sending copies to all parties?"
"Um"
Chen Zijun spoke in a calm tone.
Hans paused for a moment, then laughed, "Young Marshal, you're using naval troop movements to write a log of the Japanese army's movements."
Journal?
Who keeps a diary if they're a decent person?
This is clearly the work log of an incompetent Japanese naval officer!
Chen Zijun tossed the pencil back onto the table, his voice low but steady, "Don't the Japanese like to show off with their naval guns? Well, I'll show them that no matter how big the facade, everything has to be recorded in the accounts. Whoever crosses the line will be remembered. Whoever moves first will take the blame."
Shen Li's lips curled into a smirk, and he immediately turned and gave the order. A series of rapid beeps soon filled the radio room, the key fob crackling like someone dumping a basin of cold iron beads into a copper dish. Before long, the first plaintext record of the day was sent out from Fuzhou.
At the Xiamen Coastal Defense Observation Station, Zhao Xiaoman, a newly transferred young observation soldier, was holding a rangefinder, his forehead covered in sweat.
The scene of the Chun Chao being hit by a shell a couple of days ago was still swirling in his mind. The black smoke billowing up at sea, the ear-piercing sound of steel plates twisting as the ship tilted, and the gunner's furious shout of "Three more points!" He could still hear them when he closed his eyes at night.
Today, the cannons of the Iwami were looming over the horizon, like several dark blue fingers. Even from this distance, they sent chills down his spine.
Veteran observer Zhou Desheng reached out and tapped his helmet. "Focus on the sea, what's the panic?"
Zhao Xiaoman swallowed hard. "Squad Leader Zhou, their guns are firing so low. What if they suddenly unleash a volley..."
"Shoot my ass!"
Zhou Desheng shoved the record board into his arms, snorted, and said, "Young Marshal, you've already figured it all out. If it dares to move forward, we'll record it. If it dares to block the waterway, we'll fire. If it dares to actually cross the line, the shore artillery and the Zhen Dong will speak for themselves. Zhen Dong, Zhen Dong, we're keeping those little Japanese devils in check, understand? What we're doing now isn't a test of courage, it's being the eyes of the whole world. Come on, count off."
Zhao Xiaoman's heart tightened, but his hands steadied considerably. He pressed his eyes back against the rangefinder, reporting as he looked, "Iwami, bearing 78 degrees southeast of east. Distance, 18.2 nautical miles. Both forward main guns are low, no camber. The light cruiser on the left is slightly forward, about half a knot..."
Zhou Desheng quickly jotted it down, and finally wrote four words in bold strokes after the "whether the red line has been crossed" column.
Not touched, alert.
Five minutes later, the slightly shaky yet remarkably neat record was transmitted via radio to Fuzhou, as well as to several major newspapers and British and American insurance companies in Shanghai. What was originally just numbers on a small wooden board in a coastal defense observation station had suddenly become something that merchant ships, banks, and consulates could all understand.
On the second floor of the Cunningham Insurance Company on the Bund in Shanghai, the beads of an abacus clicked away. A foreign-style accountant wearing sleeve covers looked at the telegram he had just received, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper. "In the past twenty-four hours, the Chen family army has continuously and openly released the location of the Japanese fleet, records of dangerous maneuvers, and suggestions for safe routes. The Helena has replied to confirm that it passed safely by following the route provided."
He finished reading the last line, looked up at the manager, and said with a hint of disbelief, "Sir, these Chinese soldiers... they've turned the battlefield into a shipping manual."
Cunningham took the pipe from his mouth, remained silent for a few seconds, and then said in a low voice, "Reduce the additional insurance premium for the safe shipping route through the Chen family army off the coast of Xiamen by 20%. For routes close to the Japanese fleet's area of operation, increase the premium."
The accountant was stunned. "But the British said just the day before yesterday that it's not advisable to be too biased in the terms."
"The British and the Japanese are allies, they value decorum. But the United States isn't. Why would you choose to lose money when you can make a profit?"
Cunningham slammed the telegram on the table. "Whoever provides the route, whoever keeps the records, and whoever ensures the ship's safe passage—that's who we'll trust for the money. If we continue to calculate based on the Japanese version of events, what if the ship blows up? Will you pay the insurance money then?"
At the same time, Barton also saw the copy of the report in the consulate's small meeting room. Cunningham, sitting opposite him, looked displeased. He barely sipped his tea before speaking bluntly, "Mr. Barton, you'd better advise the Japanese to calm down. It's not about who has the bigger guns now, it's about who has the more complete evidence. If this drags on, the insurance companies will stop paying attention, and the newspapers will change their tune."
Barton folded the telegram, ran his fingertips along the edge of the paper, and said in a complicated tone, "Do you think I can still command those yellow-skinned monkeys?"
Cunningham raised his eyes. "Then you'd better pray that all the merchants in the world turn their backs on money. Look again, the insurance premiums for this fleet have already been quietly transferred from the Japanese to the Chen family army. What about in another half month? We'll see if there are any ships going to Japan!"
"Now, all the ships in the Far East, if you ask them, they'll all go. They all say the same thing: the Japanese Empire, a powerful nation, safe, how could they not go?"
"But shipping routes can't be faked. There are almost two stories less of ships going to Japan now compared to a few days ago!"
Baldon did not respond.
Outside the window, the Huangpu River churned with a somber, grayish hue, but he suddenly thought of Nanjing Road, Wusongkou, Fuxing District, and those young warlords who always seemed unreasonable but ultimately left behind solid evidence of their actions.
He felt a chill in his heart.
If the Japanese continue to push forward, they may not be able to intimidate Chen's army; rather, they are just setting up a new record for Chen Zijun in front of the whole world.
On the flagship Iwami, the atmosphere was far from as relaxed as those on shore had described.
Terauchi Shinichi slammed the binoculars down on the chart table, his face so dark it could drip water.
"It's plain text again!"
He stared at the newly received Chinese telegram, his teeth clenched tightly. "Sending it every half hour? Are they using us as training targets at sea?"
Lieutenant Colonel Kobayashi whispered, "Commander, if the light cruiser continues to advance, the Chen family army's telegram will immediately report it as a dangerous maneuver. The incident with the Chun Chao is not over yet, and British and American merchant ships are now watching the shipping lanes. If we give them another public record..."
Terauchi Shinichi turned his head sharply. "Are we just going to leave it like this?"
"Keep it still; at least the rules are still in place."
Kobayashi's voice was even lower, but he didn't dare to slow down, "They've moved, but instead they're filling in the gaps in the other side's case file. They're not in a hurry to fire now; they're waiting for us to leave the next page ourselves."
A few seconds of silence fell over the room, broken only by the low rumble of the engine transmitting through the deck. The veins on the back of Terauchi Shinichi's hand bulged, but he ultimately simply pressed his hand against the nautical chart, firmly holding back the line that was about to be pushed forward. He knew very well that what the young warlord opposite him feared least right now was their precarious, half-hearted stance.
The longer it drags on, the more it resembles Japan grinding its teeth outside the red line;
The longer it drags on, the more it seems like Chen Jiajun is measuring their true colors with a ruler.