I am the Hidden Power Behind the British Empire Chapter 81 81: A Nation Destined to Fall (3)

Admiral Yang Fang, Commander of the Hunan Fleet, brimd with confidence.

It was not re arrogance. He had achievents to his na, and the Son of Heaven himself had entrusted him with the heavy responsibility of repelling the foreign barbarians.

The White Lotus rebels had been crushed.The Muslim uprisings in Xinjiang had also been suppressed.

None of them had proven worthy opponents for the great Qing Empire.

True, the foreigners had won at sea. But the true strength of the Qing lay on land. Once their feet were planted firmly on the earth, the empire's armies would show their real power.

Just as they had swept away rebel armies before, they would scatter these Western troops like autumn leaves in the wind.

There was only one thing that worried him slightly.

The hastily assembled militia looked… less than impressive.

Quite a few of them were so steeped in opium that Yang Fang doubted they could fight properly at all.

Even among the officers—n who were supposed to command the troops—there were many who seed half-ruined by the drug.

But that was fine.

Those petty weaknesses would not matter.

After all, he had prepared a secret strategy that would render such concerns aningless.

Raising his fist high, Yang Fang surveyed his subordinates with a solemn expression and thundered:

"Soldiers of the glorious Great Qing! Today we stand here to drive the foreign devils from our land and beco the heroes who saved the nation!"

His voice rang across the assembled troops.

"So among you may have heard the strange rumors—that the barbarians' weapons possess unheard-of, mysterious power. But fear not! Their wicked sorcery has already been uncovered!"

"...Sorcery?"

"Yeah, I heard that too. They say the foreigners use magic to strengthen their weapons."

"Soone said our cannonballs bounce off their ships, but their cannonballs co flying from places we can't even see!"

Stories of how the British devils had laid waste to Guangzhou and the Zhoushan Islands spread rapidly through the ranks, growing more exaggerated with every retelling.

Yet Yang Fang did not flinch.

Instead, he raised his voice even louder.

"Do not fear! As I said, their evil sorcery has been completely understood. Their cannons amplify the power of yang energy to increase their destructive force. If we neutralize that surging yang energy, their artillery will miss us as if by miracle!"

A murmur of excitent spread through the troops.

"Oooooh!"

"The principles of the universe are simple," Yang Fang continued grandly. "Yang energy must be suppressed by yin energy. The world exists in harmony between yin and yang. n embody yang, while won embody yin. Therefore, these chamber pots—filled with the concentrated yin essence of won—will neutralize the enemy's weapons and render them powerless!"

"Chamber pots…?"

"So you're saying won's urine can block their cannons?"

"I think I've heard sothing like that before. Wasn't it in Romance of the Three Kingdoms or Water Margin? Storytellers always talk about things like this."

Using filth to break malevolent sorcery was, after all, an ancient and ti-tested thod.

Yang Fang had not stopped there.

To hunt foreigners, one must use the power of the tiger.

Thus he had carefully assigned many of his officers to n born in the year, month, or day of the tiger.

With preparations this ticulous, how could defeat possibly occur?

In fact, reports had already been flowing into Beijing claiming that Qing forces were winning victory after victory against the British.

Everyone knew the story.

Lin Zexu had urged caution, suffered a disastrous defeat, and been stripped of all his property before being exiled.

Naturally, the Emperor needed to believe that victories were being achieved here. Only then would he continue granting Yang Fang command authority.

Besides, Yang Fang reasoned, they were going to win anyway.

It hardly counted as lying.

Victory was already inevitable.

And slowly, that confidence began to spread among the soldiers.

"They say the enemy has fewer n than we do. If their cannons beco useless too, it'd be harder to lose than to win!"

"I can't wait to see the looks on their faces when their sorcery stops working. Hahaha!"

"Filthy foreign devils! You're all dead!"

"So all we have to do is hold up these chamber pots and their cannons will bounce off? Good! Follow —I'll deflect them all!"

If the enemy ships could repel Qing cannonballs with sorcery, then surely the Qing could do the sa.

Ironically, Lin Zexu's humiliating defeat had beco a source of motivation.

The enemy had only been strong because of their sorcery.

Break the sorcery—and victory would be effortless.

With morale surging, the Qing army marched confidently to intercept the British forces.

Soon, they spotted the enemy encampnt.

"Defensive units forward!"

At Yang Fang's command, soldiers clutching their issued chamber pots stepped forward in formation.

They could do this.

The sharp stench of urine clawed at their noses, threatening to bring up the rice they had eaten that morning.

But if this sll ant victory, they would endure it.

Then—

BOOM!CRASH!

The earth-shaking roar thundered across the battlefield.

Following their rehearsed drill, the soldiers quickly raised the chamber pots before them like shields.

This was no thunder.

They knew that sound well enough by now.

"Foreign sorcery!"

"Neutralize the yang energy! Block it!"

The sound and force were on an entirely different level from arrows or matchlocks.

In fact, the explosions sounded far grander than the Qing's own artillery.

But that was rely the effect of sorcery.

Still…

Could such terrifying weapons really be stopped by a chamber pot?

Doubt crept into their minds.

Yet they had to believe.

They had no other choice.

A shrill whistling noise cut through the air, growing louder.

Block it.Block it.Block it.

It had to work.

If it didn't—

No.

It would work.

Please… let it work.

"UOOOOOO!"

"AAAAAAH!"

As if trying to banish their fear, the soldiers tightened their grips on the chamber pots and roared together.

Then—

BOOOOOOM!

Sothing exploded.

And suddenly—

There was nothing.

No sight.No sound.

Only an all-consuming darkness.

* * *

"Hey! You sons of biiitches!"

"Neutralize yang energy my ass! Chao! It didn't work at all!"

"Run! Run! We can't break their sorcery!"

After just a few rounds of artillery fire followed by concentrated musket volleys, the enemy formation collapsed into chaos.

Watching them scatter in panic, Admiral George Elliott stared in disbelief.

I had heard about it beforehand, but even I couldn't suppress a laugh.

The sight of them marching forward proudly and holding chamber pots toward our cannons was truly unforgettable.

If only soone had taken a photograph.

It would have beco the single greatest image summarizing this war.

A sha caras weren't quite there yet.

"Admiral, the enemy has completely collapsed. The walls they were defending have also been destroyed by artillery."

"…Did they really sar urine on the walls too?"

"Uh… yes. It appears so."

"Good heavens," one officer muttered. "Everything happened exactly as the Minister predicted. At this point it's practically prophecy."

The gazes directed toward had changed.

What had once been trust was now edging dangerously close to reverence.

I was certain now.

At least for this war, no matter what I said, the Admiral would simply nod and agree.

Even though I wasn't formally part of the military, the question of who would receive the greatest credit for this campaign had already been decided.

Even if diplomatic negotiations were ignored entirely and only military achievents counted, my contributions were overwhelming.

Both Charles Elliot and George Elliot would report it that way.

The future was already set.

"Admiral, now you understand why I insisted we cannot stop at Nanjing."

"Yes… We ca fully prepared, but this…" he trailed off. "It's astonishing. In more ways than one."

"Let's compile the full report of this battle—the process, the outco, and the casualty ratios—and send it to the Dutch. It should make excellent propaganda."

"Understood. Though calculating casualty ratios will be difficult again. There were no deaths this ti either."

"…Again?"

"Yes. You know what the soldiers are saying these days? They're joking that under no circumstances must anyone die."

What kind of nonsense was that?

Who goes to war hoping to die?

Seeing my expression, the Admiral quickly added,

"I an they're afraid of becoming the first casualty of this war. It's beco a running joke among them. Ha ha."

"That's the sort of story that would make Qing officials faint if they heard it."

In other words—

After multiple full-scale battles, the British army had suffered zero combat deaths.

There were wounded n, and so bedridden from disease.

But no one had died in battle.

It was an achievent that defied common sense.

Of course, this wasn't simply because we fought well.

Even in this battle, if forty thousand enemy soldiers had charged with suicidal determination, so losses on our side would have been inevitable.

But the Qing army now lacked sothing far more fundantal than technology or tactics.

They lacked the will to fight.

British commanders, veterans of countless wars, could see it clearly.

Even I could read the enemy's level as easily as if it were written in front of .

"Minister," the Admiral said suddenly, "once this war is over, I intend to tell the soldiers to rember only the victory—and forget everything else."

"Why would you do that?"

"If they carry the mory of battles like this into a future war against France or Russia…" he paused.

"…we could be in serious trouble."

"…You're not wrong."

If soldiers grow used to punching motionless sandbags that don't even throw shadows, they might panic when facing an opponent of equal strength later.

"Anyway," the Admiral continued, "with this victory, Shanghai and Nanjing are practically ours. As you ordered, we'll paralyze Nanjing and then send the fleet north imdiately. If we push all the way toward Beijing, do you think they'll respond the sa way?"

"It won't be quite as tragic as this battle," I said. "But I do wonder whether they'll have the courage to fight at all."

"Courage? If their capital is threatened, wouldn't they have to fight unless they plan to surrender outright?"

"That's exactly the problem."

Normally that would be true.

But the Qing Empire wasn't in a normal situation.

By now they must know that I had been broadcasting the war's results to their tributary states in real ti.

Would they really gamble the fate of their capital under those circumstances?

If they fought near Beijing and won, all would be well.

But if they lost…

The fall of the capital would be inevitable.

The fall of Nanjing would already be a major shock.

But Beijing?

That would shake the entire world.

Tributary states were already watching the war closely.

If Beijing fell to foreign barbarians while the Emperor fled to Manchuria…

What would happen then?

That was exactly what occurred in the real tiline during the Second Opium War.

And this ti the tributary states were observing events even more carefully.

In fact, Joseon, Ryukyu, or Japan might already have dispatched envoys to Beijing.

Once the Yangtze was blockaded and Tianjin fell, we could simply station our forces at the gates leading to Beijing.

Then the Qing would face an unavoidable choice.

Fight one final desperate battle before the eyes of the tributary states and risk losing everything—

Or surrender concessions and save their capital.

Either option was a winning hand for us.

All we had to do was wait.

After all—

They were the ones sweating now.

Not .

* * *

While Yang Fang was loudly proclaiming that chamber pots filled with urine would stop British artillery—

Far to the north, in Beijing.

Within the heart of the Forbidden City.

The Qing capital was enjoying what seed like an age of peace.

Reports from the front all told the sa story.

"The glorious armies of His Majesty have achieved victory after victory against the barbarian invaders who dared challenge the empire! The enemy forces are cornered by consecutive defeats and are now begging rely for the privilege of trade!"

No matter the front, no matter the commander—

Every report was a victory.

Naturally, the Emperor was in excellent spirits.

"If they had only bowed their heads while we were still feeling generous, we might have permitted limited trade. Truly, these barbarians are ignorant fools."

"Your Majesty speaks with perfect wisdom!"

"The defeat of the British is now only a matter of ti!"

They had grown arrogant after winning a single naval battle.

Served them right.

The Emperor smirked.

"I hear that the British have been sending detailed reports of this war's progress to the tributary states. Does anyone know how that situation is developing?"

"We have received ssages from Joseon, Japan, and Ryukyu. Joseon has already dispatched an envoy to explain its relationship with the British representative—Killian Gore. Japan has likewise requested permission to send a diplomatic mission."

"No reason to refuse," the Emperor replied casually. "Allow them all into the capital. I shall show them the sight of those rebellious barbarians kneeling before my authority. Then no matter how cleverly they wag their tongues, my tributary states will not be deceived."

Normally, receiving foreign envoys during warti would be unthinkable.

But circumstances were different now.

Victory reports arrived every day.

The unconditional surrender of Britain was surely close.

And such a great achievent deserved witnesses.

If anything, the arrival of these envoys at this exact mont felt like good fortune.

No—

Perhaps it was the will of Heaven itself, guiding the Emperor who carried Heaven's mandate upon his shoulders.

"Even Heaven itself seems to strengthen Your Majesty's reign."

"Your Majesty's authority will once again shake the entire world!"

Though the flattery was obvious, the Daoguang Emperor laughed heartily and praised his ministers' loyalty.

"So then, when will these envoys arrive?"

"It appears they had already set out before requesting permission. The envoys from Joseon and Japan should arrive within half a month."

"Perfect timing," the Emperor said with satisfaction. "By then, Yang Fang will have completely driven the British army from the south. I shall celebrate that victory together with the envoys."

"They will be overwheld by Your Majesty's grace."

Of course they would.

They had to be.

Raising his cup, the Daoguang Emperor smiled broadly as he imagined the British weeping tears of blood and regretting ever provoking the sleeping tiger.

Co to think of it, the British representative was said to possess Korean blood.

A man descended from a tributary state bearing responsibility for the war.

Perhaps Britain itself could be turned into a tributary state.

To establish formal tribute relations with a Western great power—

Even the great Kangxi and Qianlong Emperors had never achieved such a feat.

Ah, but first—

That British minister, or perhaps their queen, would need to perform the proper ceremony.

Facing toward the Middle Kingdom and offering the three kneelings and nine prostrations.

Lost in admiration for his own brilliant plan—one that would surpass even his illustrious ancestors—the Daoguang Emperor could only marvel at his own wisdom.