Smith wasn't sure if such thoughts crossed Hu Linyi's mind, but ever since Friedrich finished speaking, Hu's expression had subtly changed—
—an amalgamation of surprise, confusion, and a hint of bewilderment.
Exchanging a brief glance with the members of the Khitan delegation, Hu finally asked Friedrich with a trace of disbelief:
"Such a vital asset to a nation—can it truly be freely sold?"
"Of course," Friedrich replied in an unshakably firm tone.
"Free trade is a fundamental tenet of the capitalist spirit. For a burgeoning nation, the benefits of free trade far outweigh its costs. The British Empire, for instance, didn't decline because it freely sold machinery to other countries. On the contrary, it grew even stronger because of it!"
Hu Linyi fell silent, though it was evident that Friedrich's words had profoundly shaken him. What he saw and heard today was vastly different from the teachings of the sages he had learned in the past.
Yet, Hu Linyi remained Hu Linyi. Despite the impact, he did not lose sight of his mission. After a brief pause, he resumed conversing with Friedrich, and soon the two were engrossed in a lively discussion, appearing to enjoy each other's company immensely.
Smith observed from the sidelines, thinking that regardless of what the Khitans were like in this world, Hu Linyi's skill in networking and diplomacy was no less formidable than in recorded history. Sending Hu Linyi to lead this mission to Prussia was indeed the right choice. If Hu could live a full lifespan in this world, he might truly become an Eastern Bismarck—
—certainly far superior to Li Hongzhang, whose "Eastern Bismarck" title was undeserved!
For a brief moment, Smith couldn't help but wonder: What would happen if the yet-to-be-dominant Bismarck were to meet Hu Linyi, this newly arrived emissary from the East? Two master tacticians, each excelling in power plays—what kind of sparks would fly?
"Speaking of which..." Smith suddenly realized something.
"A perfect networking opportunity like my birthday—why haven't I seen Bismarck yet?"
***
"So, what do you think?"
Inside Charlottenburg Palace, Regent Prince Wilhelm rested his hands on the desk, his sharp gaze fixed on Bismarck across from him.
Technically, he should have been attending his grandson's first birthday celebration today. But as the Regent of Prussia, certain matters left him no choice.
Much like history dictated, 1860 was far from a peaceful year. The Franco-Sardinian War against Austria had ended only months earlier, and the ink on the hastily signed Treaty of Zurich was barely dry. Meanwhile, Italy remained in turmoil.
Like Germany, Italy was fragmented. Scattered across its narrow landmass were numerous duchies and free cities, each aligned with either France or Austria. The more ambitious ones operated independently. This chaotic fragmentation, much like Germany's, was a powder keg for numerous wars. The recent conflict was merely the latest.
But while the fires of the last war hadn't fully extinguished, new ones were already being kindled. The defeated Austrians were unwilling to accept their losses, and even the nominal victors, the Kingdom of Sardinia, were discontent. They had gained Lombardy and compelled the central Italian states to submit, but the Treaty of Zurich had left the legal status of these territories unresolved. Sardinian nationalists were further aggrieved by France, their supposed ally, which had betrayed them by brokering a separate peace with Austria. Despite their gains, Sardinia had to pay a hefty military indemnity to France and cede territories like Nice—an insult too grievous to ignore.
Thus, both winners and losers of the last war found the outcome unacceptable. A new war loomed on the horizon. On this January morning in 1860, two telegrams bearing opposing messages landed on Regent Prince Wilhelm's desk. One came from Austria, seeking Prussia's support to reclaim Italian territories. The other came from the Kingdom of Sardinia, also soliciting Prussia's support for launching a new war to seize remaining territories.
Faced with these contradictory pleas, Wilhelm found himself indecisive. As the second son of Frederick William III, he had been trained to be a military officer, not a politician. His instinct was always to think like a soldier, viewing major issues through a military lens.
In the past, this wasn't an issue. But now, as Prussia's regent, he needed to step beyond a purely military perspective and view problems more holistically—a skill he conspicuously lacked.
So, he summoned the capable, though not entirely trusted, Otto von Bismarck.
"It's an Italian and Austrian matter," Bismarck shrugged, his sharp, somewhat nasal German cutting straight to the heart of the issue.
"Whoever wins or loses won't bring us any benefits or harm. I see no reason to support either side. We simply need to remain neutral—just like we did a year ago."
"But if a war breaks out between Sardinia and Austria, the situation could spiral out of control. If France intervenes for its own gain, it might embolden them and increase their influence among the German states!" Wilhelm's voice was firm, his confidence in his words unmistakable.
"If the French hadn't extorted Sardinia with that enormous war indemnity and the cession of Nice, you might have a point," Bismarck retorted sharply.
"But now, things are different. After their betrayal and extortion in the last war, who would seriously rely on the French as a trustworthy ally?"
Lowering his voice, Bismarck leaned in closer to Wilhelm and added:
"The Sardinians know the French can't be trusted—that's why they've come to us."
Wilhelm, catching the underlying message, asked cautiously:
"So, if we declare neutrality, the Sardinians might lack the courage to act?"
Bismarck nodded.
"The same applies to the Austrians."
It dawned on Wilhelm. If Prussia declared neutrality, war wouldn't break out, and the unpredictable consequences of war could be avoided. Why, then, should Prussia support any conflict?
"You're absolutely right!" Wilhelm thought for a moment, then said decisively:
"Prussia will remain neutral!"
But Bismarck wasn't finished. With a deliberate tone, he remarked:
"Forgive my audacity, Your Highness, but I believe that instead of focusing excessively on Southern European affairs, we should broaden our horizons. Since the Age of Exploration, no major delegation from an Eastern nation has ever visited Europe. Now, the Khitan delegation has arrived—and their first stop is Berlin. This is our opportunity."
Wilhelm understood Bismarck's implication. According to him, cultivating relations with the Khitans from the other side of the world was far more important than entangling in the complexities of Southern Europe.
To Wilhelm, this went against many entrenched common-sense notions in his mind. It wasn't that he dismissed the importance of relations with the Khitans; he simply didn't think they were more significant than matters involving Sardinia and Austria. After all, beyond having a formidable army, Prussia's strength lay in its keen engagement with European affairs!
"Is that so?" Regent Wilhelm furrowed his brow, unable to decipher what exactly Bismarck was hinting at.
"The world has changed, Your Highness!" Bismarck declared solemnly, his tone unwavering.
"A nation with a landmass and population surpassing all of Europe has willingly reached out to engage with us. This is an unprecedented shift not seen in centuries. We can no longer afford to confine our vision solely to Europe!"
Bismarck's sharp, piercing voice carried the weight of a startling revelation, delivered in a manner most familiar to the seasoned soldier, Regent Wilhelm.
Back when the Hohenzollerns were merely rulers of the tiny Brandenburg principality, their dominion was so insignificant that, even in the fragmented patchwork of German principalities, they ranked near the bottom in both territory and population.
In an era where the weak were devoured by the strong, small often equated to weak, and weak often led to extinction. Determined to avoid being crushed under the wheels of history, the Hohenzollerns acquired Prussia through strategic marriages. Over generations, they toiled diligently, turning the entire state into a militarized stronghold. Through relentless effort, they transformed Prussia from small to large, from weak to strong.
Granted, small doesn't always mean weak, nor does large always mean strong. However, the fact remains: the sheer scale of a country directly correlates with its potential for growth. Greater scale offers a stronger foundation for greater strength. The Hohenzollerns understood this well; their ancestors relentlessly pursued territorial expansion, and Wilhelm's father and brother expended every effort to unify Germany under their banner.
Now, a massive nation with the potential to become a global superpower had taken the initiative to engage with Prussia. For Prussia, and even for Europe as a whole, this was a historic event of immense significance.
"Khitan truly is a fascinating nation," Wilhelm muttered under his breath.
"Even Frederick the Great was captivated by it. I recall he even studied the Khitan language! But regardless, we know so little about this country. As you said, we cannot limit our vision to Europe alone any longer. We must deepen our understanding of it..."
Wilhelm paused, shifting his tone as he addressed Bismarck.
"The Khitan delegation is about to conclude its visit and return home. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I plan to send a delegation of equal standing for a reciprocal visit. You've been deeply involved in foreign affairs for years. Do you have any recommendations for who should lead this delegation?"
Bismarck smiled faintly and, without hesitation, said, "The candidate I recommend is standing right in front of you."
"You?!"
Wilhelm was taken aback. Bismarck's response was entirely unexpected. By any measure, Bismarck had been back in Berlin for less than a year, yet in that time, his charm and capabilities had won over the city's political circles. While Wilhelm still couldn't fully trust Bismarck, he had to admit he was increasingly reliant on this "former adversary" in managing the affairs of state.
"You see," Wilhelm said earnestly, "The king is no longer capable of governing, and I am but a soldier. I desperately need the assistance of talents like you in both domestic and foreign matters. You know I greatly trust your abilities. In fact, I was planning to appoint you as Minister of the Interior in February..."
Bismarck remained unfazed. He knew Wilhelm's words came from the heart. However, this wasn't a year ago. A year ago, Bismarck had desperately needed Berlin's stage. Now, it was time for an intermission.
Over the past year in Berlin, Bismarck had expanded his network, solidifying old connections and establishing new ones. By now, almost everyone in Berlin knew of this towering, energetic, and extraordinarily capable man. Wilhelm himself was becoming increasingly dependent on him. Most crucially, no one could take his place.
It was the perfect moment for Bismarck to execute a strategic retreat, a calculated move to gain the upper hand. His ambitions extended far beyond serving as the Regent's secretary or the head of some office, or even as the already powerful Minister of the Interior.
Bismarck's sights were set higher—on the pinnacle of power, second only to the king himself.
Bismarck aimed to be Chancellor, and he intended to achieve it soon.