novelAbuy Chapter 308 This is a matter between us and Britain and France.
Chapter 308 This is a matter between us and Britain and France.
At 3 p.m. that day, in the reception room of the Dubai Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
Wang Wenwu sat in the main seat, with three cups of tea in front of him—Longjing, Pu'er, and Tieguanyin. The tea was already brewed, and wisps of steam rose, releasing different aromas into the air.
The door opened, and the secretary led three people in.
The first is Thomson, the Chargé d'affaires of the British Consulate General in Lanfang—Major General Gerald has returned to London for a reporting mission, and he is now acting as his deputy. Thomson is forty years old, not very tall, wears gold-rimmed glasses, and has the typical appearance of a civil servant.
The second was Dupont, the French consul in Lanfang, who was in his fifties, with a meticulously trimmed mustache and elegant manners, but whose eyes revealed weariness—France had shed too much blood in this war.
The third was Zhou Xiru, the North Korean government's business representative in Dubai, a sixty-year-old scholar wearing a long gown and mandarin jacket, with half a braid still hanging down his back.
"Please have a seat, all three of you." Wang Wenwu gestured. "I apologize for calling you here so urgently, but I have important matters to discuss."
The three sat down and exchanged a glance. They all guessed that today's meeting was unusual—Wang Wenwu had met with representatives from all three parties simultaneously, something that had never happened before.
"Minister Wang, what can I do for you?" Thomson spoke first, speaking fluent Mandarin with a British accent.
Wang Wenwu didn't beat around the bush: "This morning, we received a notice from the North X government regarding the dispatch of 150,000 Chinese laborers to Europe to assist the Anglo-French allied forces."
Thomson and DuPont relaxed somewhat. They assumed Lanfang wanted to discuss the details of the collaboration—perhaps to get a share of the profits, or to provide transportation services.
Zhou Xiaoru straightened his back, a proud look on his face: "Indeed. This is an important measure for China to integrate into the international community, demonstrating the responsibility of our five-thousand-year-old civilization."
Wang Wenwu glanced at him, his eyes filled with complex emotions: "Representative Zhou, I'd like to confirm a few details. Were these laborers there voluntarily?"
"Of course it's voluntary!" Zhou Xiaoru said. "As soon as the notice was posted, people flocked to sign up. Twenty silver dollars a month, including room and board, was a great thing for poor farmers."
"Do they know where they're going? Do they know what they're doing? Do they know how dangerous it is?"
Zhou Xiaoru's expression stiffened for a moment: "This... is naturally explained. Building fortifications, transporting supplies, and maintaining the railway are all rear-area tasks, and there is no danger involved."
How far are we from the front lines?
"This..." Zhou Xiaoru couldn't answer.
DuPont chimed in, "Minister Wang, please rest assured that the labor camps are all located in safe areas, at least twenty kilometers from the front lines. Moreover, according to the agreement, the laborers are not allowed to engage in direct combat missions and enjoy the same protection as Allied logistics personnel."
Thomson added, "Actually, this is a good opportunity for workers. They can learn modern industrial technology in Europe, broaden their horizons, and earn more money than they could in ten years back home. After returning home, they will become the seeds of China's modernization."
"That sounds nice," Wang Wenwu thought with a cold smile. If he hadn't read the war reports from Europe and known how many shells were hitting the so-called "safe zone" every day, he might have believed it.
"Then," Wang Wenwu said slowly, "if these laborers change their minds halfway through and don't want to go anymore, is that alright?"
There was a moment of silence in the conference room.
Thomson frowned. "Minister Wang, I don't quite understand what you mean. The contract has already been signed, and the shipping schedule has been set. How can we treat this so lightly?"
"I mean, what if," Wang Wenwu insisted. "What if the laborers board the ship, travel halfway, and suddenly feel homesick, or get scared, and want to turn back? Is that alright?"
DuPont smiled, a smile that held a condescending tolerance: "Minister Wang, you may not be aware of the situation. Most of these laborers are illiterate, farmers; they need guidance, not choices. We and your government have arranged everything for them; they just need to follow instructions."
Zhou Xiaoru nodded repeatedly: "That's right. The country has found a way out for them, and they should be grateful and repay it with all their might."
Wang Wenwu felt nauseous. He recalled how Chen Feng had smashed things that morning and suddenly understood why the Grand Commander was so angry.
These people—the British, the French, and even this "one of their own" with the queue—discussed the fate of 150,000 compatriots as if they were 150,000 livestock. Where they went, what they did, whether there was danger, whether they could return…none of that mattered. What mattered was "international obligation," "national dignity," and "the seeds of modernization."
Nobody cares that these are real, living people.
"Alright," Thomson glanced at his watch, "Minister Wang, if you have no further questions, we will..."
"I have," Wang Wenwu interrupted him. "After careful consideration, the Lanfang government has decided to express its concern about this matter."
"Concerned?" Thomson raised an eyebrow. "Concerned about what?"
"We are concerned about the lives, safety, and basic human rights of the 150,000 Chinese laborers," Wang Wenwu said, emphasizing each word. "According to our information, the fighting on the Western Front in Europe is currently intense, and the so-called 'safe zones' are not safe at all. The work performed by the laborers is highly dangerous. And the current agreements do not provide sufficient safeguards."
DuPont's face darkened: "Minister Wang, are you questioning the credibility and capabilities of Britain and France?"
"I'm not questioning, I'm stating the facts." Wang Wenwu took out a report from the folder. "This is a casualty statistic for the rear areas of the Western Front in Europe over the past six months. It includes civilians injured by artillery fire, logistics personnel killed in air raids, and laborers who died from poor conditions and disease. The numbers are here; the three of you can take a look."
He pushed the report over. Thomson picked it up and quickly skimmed through it, his expression growing increasingly grim.
The report, compiled by Lanfang's intelligence department, uses data from multiple sources and details the number of non-combatant deaths in the war zone: an average of three to five thousand per month.
"These figures..." Thomson wanted to say "inaccurate," but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Because he knew the actual numbers were probably higher.
Zhou Xiru also went over to take a look, and after reading it, his face turned pale: "This...how is this possible..."
"Representative Zhou," Wang Wenwu looked at him, "do you still think this is a 'hugely good thing'?"
Zhou Xiaoru was speechless.
Thomson put down the report, took off his glasses and wiped them: "Minister Wang, I understand your country's concerns. But that's war; there are sacrifices and dangers. Moreover, this is an agreement between the XX government and the British and French governments, and Lanfang, as a third party, seems to have no right to interfere."
"We have a stance," Wang Wenwu said, "because they are our compatriots. Blood is thicker than water, isn't that stance enough?"
DuPont sneered: "Minister Wang, international politics is not a place for kinship. If every country interferes in the internal affairs of other countries because of 'compatriot' relations, the world will be in chaos."
"Let it be chaotic then," Wang Wenwu said calmly. "It's better than watching 150,000 people go to their deaths."
The atmosphere in the meeting room suddenly became tense.
Thomson put his glasses back on: "Minister Wang, are you issuing a threat?"
"No, I'm stating a position." Wang Wenwu stood up. "The official position of the Lanfang government is: We strongly oppose any act of sending Chinese laborers to the European war zone. We demand a reassessment of the security of the agreement and suggest considering alternatives."
"An alternative?" DuPont asked. "What alternative?"
"For example," Wang Wenwu said, "we can bring these laborers to Lanfang. We have land that needs to be cultivated, factories that need workers, and construction that needs labor. We can provide equal or even better treatment, and—there is no danger to their lives."
Thomson and DuPont exchanged a glance, both seeing the absurdity in each other's eyes.