Smith had much to say.
From global affairs, economic development, and institutional reform, to military construction, national strategy, and foreign relations, down to shipbuilding, army rations, and individual soldier equipment—Smith carried a wealth of thoughts waiting to spill out.
Yet, such a torrent of ideas, tangled and vast, could hardly be poured out all at once. Even if Smith were to talk for ten days and nights, he might not finish. And even if he did, there was no guarantee Frederick would take it all seriously. After all, biologically speaking, Smith was barely over two years old. What adult would fully believe the words of a child so young?
Even if Frederick listened, absorbing such an overwhelming amount of information at once might not yield any tangible results.
Thus, Smith decided to proceed gradually, step by step. For now, the priority was clear: securing the spoils of war.
Having calculated his approach, Smith refrained from delving into grand theories and instead stuck to the matter at hand.
"Yes, Father," he said earnestly, "profiting from war does require a certain finesse..."
Frederick's hands trembled with excitement. He couldn't fathom how such a young child could comprehend the complex data that even adults struggled to grasp, let alone articulate the underlying logic. Yet Smith not only understood but spoke with clarity and conviction. Moreover, it seemed the boy had more in store than what he had just revealed.
To be fair, this wasn't Frederick's first encounter with a prodigy or a bright young mind. But it was his first time facing a child prodigy—his own son, no less. The experience was both exhilarating and surreal.
It also heightened Frederick's caution. He wanted to protect his son.
Though Frederick often declared, especially to his father, "I don't need anyone to tell me how to be a father," he privately sought guidance on how to be a good one. He even discreetly consulted parenting experts of the time.
Raising a child, as he discovered, was much like the martial arts schools of old—each had its own methods. But all agreed on one thing: children thrive on positive reinforcement.
Clearly, his son was doing something extraordinary. Given Smith's status, this was undoubtedly an achievement worth encouraging. But what form should that encouragement take?
Human thinking is inevitably shaped by one's experiences and worldview. Even though Frederick was the first Prussian crown prince to receive a systematic university education, he was also a Prussian officer. The ethos and character of the Prussian military had left an indelible mark on him.
This influence now came into play. Unconsciously, Frederick applied the dynamics of the Prussian military's superior-subordinate relationship to his interaction with his son.
The Prussian army, and later the German military of the Second Reich, was often stereotyped as a rigid, machine-like entity that blindly followed orders. But the reality was far more nuanced.
While the Prussian military was indeed efficient and disciplined, it also emphasized the initiative of individuals. This initiative wasn't born of laxity but was rooted in mutual understanding and trust between superiors and subordinates. Superiors, understanding and trusting their subordinates, would delegate authority and provide support in manpower, resources, and finances. Subordinates, in turn, would present their plans and intentions transparently to gain their superiors' full backing.
This flexible and dynamic system was the hallmark of the Prussian military, a tradition cultivated since the era of the Great Elector and refined by luminaries like Scharnhorst and Clausewitz. It endowed the Prussian army and its successors with unparalleled combat effectiveness—something the Japanese, despite their penchant for insubordination and "overruling from below," could never replicate.
Now, Frederick instinctively placed himself in the role of a superior within this system, regarding Smith as a "junior subordinate." He reacted in the most typical manner of a Prussian officer:
"Then explain your thoughts, Willy! But be quick about it—we're due to meet the king shortly—"
"Frederick!"
Frederick's words were interrupted by a gentle yet firm protest.
The voice could only belong to Victoria.
After years of marriage, Victoria might not claim to know her husband inside out, but she had a good grasp of his patterns. The scene just now mirrored his interactions with subordinates all too closely. It was time to remind him.
"Willy is your son, not your subordinate!" Victoria fixed her gaze on her husband.
"He's still a child!"
"Of course I know that, my dear!" Frederick replied, quickly rising to his feet. He kissed her furrowed brow and cupped her cheeks.
"But I can't let the boy's genius go to waste! Mark my words—he'll be the greatest king Prussia has ever seen!"
Perhaps it was this declaration that moved Victoria. Or perhaps she was simply overwhelmed and unsure of the best course of action. This time, she refrained from further objections. Instead, she gently kissed Frederick's hand, tacitly consenting to his decision.
Frederick, delighted, strode over to Smith and scooped him up. Half to Smith and half to himself, he said, "Before we meet the king, our little recruit needs a proper outfit!"
No one noticed the look Victoria gave the father and son—a gaze filled with worry and unease. Only she knew the thoughts swirling in her mind. From this moment on, she feared not only that her son might become a "Venetian merchant" but also a "Potsdam soldier."
Lightly, she placed a hand on her slightly rounded belly. Yes, she was pregnant again. At this moment, she fervently hoped the child within her would be a girl.
By the time Smith was seated in the carriage, ten minutes had passed.
Those ten minutes had flown by for Smith. Frederick's reaction didn't entirely surprise him. Based on "Smiling Willy's" accounts of his father and Smith's own observations over the past two years, Frederick was bound to support him. What Smith hadn't anticipated was how quickly everything would progress, as if Frederick were eager to prove something to King Wilhelm.
Prove what?
As the carriage began to move, Smith figured it out. Frederick likely wanted to show King Wilhelm that he, as a father, was more attentive to his child's abilities—something Wilhelm had rarely done for Frederick during his own upbringing.
Understanding this dynamic gave Smith deeper insight into the family's situation. He needed to grasp these intricacies to avoid being ensnared in the same pitfalls that had plagued the historical Wilhelm II.
Yet Smith never lost sight of his ultimate goal. During the short ride from the Crown Prince's Palace to Charlottenburg Palace, he meticulously outlined his plan to Frederick. By the time the carriage came to a halt at Charlottenburg's gates, Frederick found himself deeply impressed by his son.
"I think I completely understand your idea," Frederick said as he opened the carriage door, jumped out, and then turned back to lift Smith down to the ground. Squatting to meet Smith's eyes, he continued:
"Let me talk to the King first. After that, we'll meet him together—and when the time comes, just speak your mind! Let's see if our little genius doesn't give him a good shock!"
Adults are always more inclined to open their hearts in front of children, even if their confessions are often subtle and indirect. Yet, Smith immediately understood Frederick's thoughts. With a serious expression, he replied:
"You're a genius father yourself. How many fathers would seriously listen to a child my age?"
"Oh, my dear Willy..."
Frederick was deeply moved. He gently ruffled Smith's hair before standing up and leading him toward Charlottenburg Palace.
The "little talk" between the Crown Prince and the King took far longer than Smith had expected. It was over two hours later when the doors to the King's office finally swung open. Sixty-something King Wilhelm strode out briskly, his gaze sharp as he approached Smith. He stared at the boy with a mix of wonder and disbelief, his voice uncharacteristically soft:
"Willy... was everything you just said really your own idea?"
Smith nodded.
"A miracle, truly a miracle..." King Wilhelm murmured. Just days ago, he had been worried about his grandson's inability to speak. Who could have imagined that, thanks to the Chitan physicians' mysterious acupuncture, his grandson would now be speaking with such brilliance? Perhaps this truly was the enigmatic power of the East!
After his amazement subsided, the conversation shifted to the main topic.
"Just as you said," the King began, "the Americans need weapons for their civil war. Given the urgency of their situation, they won't mind if the weapons are slightly outdated. This means we can liquidate the muzzle-loading rifles and matching ammunition in our warehouses. Since our army has already adopted the new Dreyse needle guns, this sale wouldn't significantly impact our military readiness."
The King's eyes remained fixed on Smith as he spoke, essentially reiterating the boy's arguments. At the end, he made his stance clear:
"I support this plan!"
There was no reason for King Wilhelm not to support it. On the international arms market, a second-hand muzzle-loading rifle in decent condition could sell for at least $10. If it were a flintlock, a package including enough powder, lead bullets, flints, and bullet molds for 500 shots could also fetch around $10. For percussion cap rifles, $10 would cover about 300 shots' worth of powder, caps, and bullets.
Obviously, the Americans wouldn't just buy rifles without ammunition. So, each rifle sale could bring in about $20. Moreover, these weapons were essentially "non-performing assets" for Prussia. Keeping them incurred storage and maintenance costs, so selling them would actually reduce the kingdom's financial burden, making the real profit even higher.
More importantly, for the American military, these weapons were still highly functional. After all, their standard issue was still smoothbore muskets!
As for quantity, there was no concern. Rifles, being individual equipment, would be rapidly consumed and lost in war. A rough estimate suggested that selling 200,000 to 300,000 rifles within a few months was entirely feasible.
This meant that from rifles and ammunition alone, plus various small accessories, Prussia could earn around $6 million. At the current exchange rate of $1 to 5 marks, that translated to 30 million marks—enough to sustain government operations!
And war required not just rifles and bullets but also cannons and shells. The Americans were equally short on these. Compared to the relatively cheap rifles, cannons—though fewer in number—had much higher unit prices, and their ammunition was just as expensive. Conveniently, as a European military power, Prussia had plenty of second-hand cannons in stock. While outdated by Prussian standards, they would be in high demand across the Atlantic!
With such a foundation, King Wilhelm had no doubt that these items—practically useless to Prussia—could provide the government with the revenue it needed to function. The only prerequisite was that they had to sell.
This was precisely the question the King posed to Smith.
"But as you also mentioned," the King said, spreading his hands, "the Northern states have a much stronger navy than the South. They can blockade the Southern coasts, preventing external supplies from getting in. If we can't get the goods in, the transaction can't happen..."
"Why do we have to deliver the goods?" Smith replied with a slight smile. "We can simply make them pay in advance and arrange for their own transport!"