Beiyang Dream

Chapter 61 An Accidental Encounter at the Graduation Ball

Chapter 61? An Accidental Encounter at the Graduation Ball (This chapter has reached its update limit. I'll continue after contacting the editor at noon.)

January 10, 1891, 7:30 PM. Berlin, Kurfürstendamm, Kempinski Restaurant.

There are three days left until the official graduation of the "Eastern Military Training Course" at the Prussian War Academy.

There are seven days left until the departure of the Britannia cruise ship, which Chang Desheng booked, from Hamburg to Singapore.

The Kempinski restaurant's banquet hall, which can accommodate two hundred people, was brightly lit. The air was filled with the aromas of cigars, French perfume, and roasted veal—this was a farewell ball hosted by the War Academy and the Berlin Military Academy for this year's graduating international students. Though called a ball, it was more of a social event and a buffet. Can't dance? No problem! The long table in the corner was laden with champagne, red wine, and German dark beer—all you could eat. Grilled sausages, sauerkraut, mashed potatoes, and various desserts were all you could take.

To put it bluntly, it was a farewell dinner hosted by the German military for the international students.

Chang Desheng, dressed in his dark blue Prussian War College uniform, leaned against a pillar not far from the main dining table, holding a glass of dark beer in his hand.

Standing next to him was Luo Jingrou. This young heiress was wearing a Western-style evening gown today, her hair styled in an updo, revealing her slender, white neck. Around her neck hung a pearl necklace he'd bought last month at a long-established jewelry store in Berlin for a little over 500 marks. At the current exchange rate, that's roughly equivalent to 100 taels of silver. What could he do? This young heiress had a habit of showering her boyfriend with silver coins; she bought him gifts every few days, and none of them were cheap… He couldn't be too stingy, could he?

"Zhenbang," Luo Jingrou gently nudged his arm, gestured towards the northwest corner of the hall with a smile, "Look at Brother Duan and the others."

Chang Desheng turned his head to look over.

In the northwest corner of the hall, Sai Jinhua led Duan Qirui, Wu Dingyuan, Kong Qingtang, and Shang Dequan around a round table. The table was littered with empty plates and glasses. Duan Qirui sat upright, but his eyes darted around, occasionally glancing towards the center of the dance floor where several German officers and their partners were dancing the waltz. Wu Dingyuan and Kong Qingtang were engrossed in a plate of grilled sausages, their mouths greasy. Shang Dequan was the most honest, only taking small sips of juice, his eyes merely curiously scanning the German ladies in their revealing evening gowns.

Chang Desheng sighed inwardly.

These guys didn't bring any female companions, nor could they. Aside from the embassy staff, they didn't know any other Chinese women in Berlin. Sai Jinhua was enthusiastic, but she herself had come with Hong Jun; where was she supposed to find them female companions? So they could only eat, drink, and watch.

"That's normal," Chang Desheng said, taking a sip of beer. "They're not like me, with a dowry—no, a like-minded girlfriend."

Luo Jingrou glanced at him sideways, her dimples appearing and disappearing: "You're being cheeky again."

"To be honest," Chang Desheng said seriously, "we call this a powerful alliance."

""

As he was speaking, he caught a glimpse of two people walking towards him out of the corner of his eye.

One was Xiao Maoqi, who wasn't wearing his military uniform but a tailcoat, and looked quite smart. But Chang Desheng's attention was entirely on the woman arm in arm with him.

This woman—she's really something else.

She looked to be in her early thirties, tall and slender, at least 1.7 meters, with an incredibly graceful figure—perfectly proportioned in all the right places. A deep red, low-cut evening gown made her skin appear dazzlingly white. Her face was also beautiful: a high nose, deep-set eyes, and bright red lips. Her long, blonde hair was styled in an updo, revealing her slender neck. Most striking were her large, watery eyes, which held a touch of languidness when she looked at people.

But the first thought that flashed through Chang Desheng's mind was: This size, this proportion, the frequency of his chest movements when he walks—it's not ergonomic! If it were real, how heavy would it be? Would it bump into his dance partner when he dances?

"Zhenbang." Little Maoqi walked up and greeted him with a smile.

"Teacher." Chang Desheng put down his wine glass and bowed slightly, but in his heart he was thinking: What does Xiao Maoqi mean by bringing such an eye-catching woman here? Is he testing my composure? Or—does this woman have another purpose?

Moltke turned to the woman beside him: "This is Mrs. Nathalie von Bülow, and her husband, Mr. Karl von Bülow, is the newly appointed consul of the Empire in Tianjin."

He then said to Natalie, "Madam, this is Chang Desheng, the most outstanding young military officer in the Qing Dynasty, whom I have often mentioned to you. The beautiful lady beside him is Miss Luo Jingrou, from Southeast Asia."

Natalie extended her hand to Chang Desheng, not to shake hands, but to kiss his hand.

Chang Desheng smiled slightly, gently lifted her hand, and lightly touched the back of her hand with his lips. Mmm, it smells quite nice.

But the fragrance is a bit too strong, as if it's trying to mask some other scent.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Chang," Natalie said, her voice slightly husky and magnetic, in an elegant Hanoverian accent. "Lieutenant Colonel Moltke speaks highly of you, saying you are the most outstanding foreign student in the history of the War Academy."

"You flatter me." Chang Desheng released his grip, thinking to himself: What does Teacher Mao mean by this? What exactly does this woman do? Is she the consul's wife? Or a German female spy?

Just then, Little Moltke took out two brown paper envelopes from the inner pocket of his tailcoat and handed them over: "Chang, His Majesty greatly admired your performance in the war game recently. He asked me to deliver these. One is a reply to Lord Yinchang of your country, and the other is for you alone."

Chang Desheng took the envelope, weighed it in his hand, and immediately understood what was going on.

The one for Yinchang was very thin, just a single sheet of paper. The one for myself was very thick and stiff, like a book.

Needless to say, that's a codebook!

Kaiser Wilhelm II—no, I should say the General Staff wanted to establish secret communication with him.

This is a further step down the path of being an "imperialist agent."

Should we do it or not? Of course we should!

The Japanese on the other side had already latched onto Britain's coattails. If they didn't team up with the Germans, winning the Korean War would be quite difficult. It's like two construction companies bidding on a project: one has unlimited credit lines from a bank, while the other can only rely on its own capital. What's the point of even competing?

"Thank you, teacher. Please also convey my sincerest gratitude to His Majesty." Chang Desheng carefully put the two envelopes into the inner pocket of his military uniform and placed them close to his body.

Moltke nodded, then looked at Natalie: "Mrs. Bello will also be traveling to Tianjin next month to reunite with her husband. Zhenbang, if you need any help in Tianjin, such as wanting to learn about the latest technological developments in Europe, or needing to establish connections with certain business partners, you can contact Mrs. Bello. She has a wide social network in Germany."

Natalie smiled elegantly at Chang Desheng: "I look forward to meeting you in Tianjin, Mr. Chang. I think we will have many things in common."

Chang Desheng thought to himself, "Oh wow."

He instantly realized. Little Maoqi wasn't introducing a friend; he was clearly introducing him to an online acquaintance!

Nathalie von Bülow, ostensibly the wife of the German consul, was likely a key figure in the German intelligence network in the Far East. Moltke the Younger gave her the codebook and introduced her to the local "courier"—this was a complete covert operation.

He quickly calculated in his mind: taking this "job" was tantamount to boarding Germany's ship. The advantage was that he could get German technology and intelligence support for free; the disadvantage was that if relations between Germany and Qing turned sour in the future, he would be labeled a "traitor to the Qing." But then he thought, "Traitor to the Qing? Bullshit! I'm rebelling against the Qing Dynasty!"

"Of course, of course." Chang Desheng smiled broadly. "When Madam arrives in Tianjin, please give me a chance to show her some hospitality."

He was polite in words, but his eyes couldn't help but glance at the cleavage that was faintly visible beneath Natalie's deep V-neck.

This "heart" — it's damn broad.

He was debating whether to exchange a few more polite words or quickly make a run for it with Luo Jingrou when Xiao Maoqi suddenly raised his hand and called out towards the entrance of the hall, "Tojo! This way!"

Chang Desheng's heart tightened, and he turned his head to look.

At the entrance to the hall, Hideaki Tojo was walking in.

But the way he walked in was a bit awkward.

Tojo was also wearing his Prussian military academy uniform today, standing ramrod straight with a blank expression on his face. But the problem was that he seemed to be "led" by a woman.

Yes, it means holding hands.

The woman gently "took" his elbow and led him inside.

Tojo was short, at most 1.5 meters tall, while the woman was tall, at least 1.6 meters tall, only a little shorter than Luo Jingrou. She was wearing a moon-white evening dress, which accentuated her slender figure.

Chang Desheng stared intently at the woman's face.

Yes, it's quite pretty.

She has the typical features of a Japanese beauty: fair skin, long and thin eyebrows, large and bright eyes, a high and straight nose, and small lips. She looks somewhat delicate and has a scholarly air about her.

She tilted her head slightly, as if listening to Tojo say something in a low voice, a faint smile on her lips.

But Chang Desheng couldn't help but find it strange.

Tojo's "tar barrel"-like figure, paired with this tall and slender lady, resulted in a height difference of about ten centimeters between them. The image... yes, like a flatbread with a fried dough stick—incredibly delicious!

Chang Desheng was secretly delighted and almost burst out laughing. Just as he was wondering where Dongtiao Daibing could find him a fried dough stick, Luo Jingrou next to him suddenly stood up.

"Haruko! What brings you here?"

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