Iron Dynasty Chapter 1031

“Your Majesty, I fear this might be a British scheme to create division.”

Within the Imperial Study, Cui Shang’an handed over the reports from Southeast Asia to Xiao Ming. Though the telegraph had sped up information flow considerably, by the time the General Staff got Lei Ming’s account of the battle, that surprising incident had concluded half a month earlier, given the vast three-thousand-li stretch (about 1,500 km) between Indonesia and Guangzhou.

A soft grunt escaped Xiao Ming as he tossed the report onto the desk. He declared, “Better to assume it’s real than dismiss it. I’ve always distrusted the Netherlands. In Europe, they’re a minor power, their navy weakened, leaving them vulnerable to bending under the weight of stronger foes.”

“Yet war with the Dutch could disrupt our rubber supplies,” Cui Shang’an fretted a bit. Rubber’s role in industry had grown so vital, touching every corner of production.

Despite years of trading rubber with the Dutch, it fell short of the Empire’s demands, keeping prices steep for rubber goods across the land.

This topic only fueled Xiao Ming’s ire further. Addressing Cui Shang’an, he snapped, “Nations hold no true bonds. The Dutch grasp that well. They’ve profited hugely from rubber deals, never easing up on their steep charges against us. If concern for industrial growth stalling due to rubber shortages held me back, I’d have ended this lopsided exchange ages ago.”

In modern times, a ton of rubber fetched around 15,000, but in this scarce era, the Dutch proved merciless, pricing each ton at 1,000 dragon coins—practically gold per gram matching rubber per gram.

Confronting such a massive imbalance in trade, his frustration had simmered for years. Now, with a fix in mind, he pressed on, “I’ve devised a way to tackle this issue. Once the Golden Tent falls, the grasslands become Empire territory. Near Tian Shan, a plant called rubber grass exists. Should the rubber flow halt, rubber grass can serve as a stopgap. Plus, the Empire’s spent years planting rubber trees. Hainan now boasts vast rubber groves. From seed to yield takes just six years, and that time has elapsed, so harvesting starts now. Combined with rubber grass, our homegrown supply should cover current demands.”

“Rubber grass.” Surprise lit Cui Shang’an’s face. He realized his knowledge remained shallow still.

Xiao Ming affirmed with a nod, elaborating, “This rubber grass thrives around Tian Shan, sprouting as robustly as grazing pastures. Its cycle is brief, allowing rotational planting like common grass. It resembles a dandelion somewhat. Post-Golden Tent’s capitulation, I’ve dispatched slaves to Tian Shan for rubber grass fields. Harvests should appear this year.”

Cui Shang’an exhaled in relief, his concerns dissolving. Smiling, he said, “After enduring Dutch extortion for years, the Empire can at last relax. Thus, we needn’t dread them. With firm proof, we’ll expel the Dutch from Asia entirely.”

“True or false, dispatch orders at once for the Ryukyu forces to heighten vigilance. Should the Dutch stir, wipe them out without delay,” Xiao Ming commanded icily.

Seriousness etched Cui Shang’an’s features as he replied, “Yes.”

…

Zeelandia.

Restlessly, Eric paced the Governor’s Office. Word of Newland City’s fall had arrived, stirring deep unease in him.

Simultaneously, as the Chinese Empire broadcast its triumph, whispers spread of a cryptic letter discovered on Newland’s Governor.

Uncertain if these tales stemmed from design or slips, he pondered.

“Governor Eric, time slips away from us. Though undesired, as Dutchmen, we must heed Parliament’s call.”

Stephen eyed Eric. Eighteen days prior, he’d docked in Zeelandia, proclaiming Parliament’s fresh directive.

“Mad fools! You grasp nothing of the Chinese Empire’s might! Britain and France drive us toward ruin!” Eric raged.

Helplessness crossed Stephen’s face. He urged, “Eric, as a loyal Dutchman, weigh the welfare of our folk. Sticking to alliance with the Chinese Empire invites British naval sieges and French land assaults. Can we repel France? Trade gains with China are rich, yet national security trumps all. Decide now. That letter surely details Dutch politics. Delay, and it may be too late.”

Eric’s face twisted through emotions. Per Parliament’s scheme, they’d first neutralize Zeelandia’s imperial troops, then rally ships and men from Manila and Malaysia to seize Singapore. Securing Malacca, British and French aids would reinforce, using it to halt China’s push west.

Stephen’s pleas drew a deep sigh from Eric. He warned, “Stephen, grasp the fallout of this choice. The Netherlands forfeits Manila, Indonesia, and Asian trade paths forever.”

“Britain and France promise shares of African and American colonies to offset losses. Eric, broaden your view. Asia lies distant, but Britain and France press near.”

Glancing at the crimson dusk beyond the pane, Eric gave a faint nod. He’d wavered long on this, but now resolution dawned. The letter’s secrets risked exposure; he dared not gamble.

Before the Chinese Empire readied fully, they must flee Zeelandia.

“Very well, we strike tonight. May God guide us safely back to the Netherlands.” Firmness hardened Eric’s gaze. The Netherlands was his homeland, kin in Amsterdam. He couldn’t forsake them.

Stephen sighed softly in ease. Upon arrival, he’d misjudged Eric’s dread of China. Now, his task concluded.

Eric gazed at the imperial guards outside, adding, “Escaping unscathed seems unlikely, but our troops shan’t perish pointlessly. At minimum, seize the Chinese Empire’s Han-style rifles and machine guns.”

A gleam sparked in Stephen’s eyes. “Indeed, those fetch premium in Europe. Eric, you’ll etch your name boldly in Dutch annals.”