And so, Smith's "new toy" became a gift from a grandson to his grandfather.
As for what ultimately became of the item, Smith had no idea. From that day onward, he never saw it again. However, he later heard rumors. After mid-1861, Queen Victoria no longer pounded on Prince Albert's study door in the dead of night, yelling, "Open up, I am the Queen!" Albert's complexion also seemed to improve noticeably, and the vibrant spirit of the young German prince he once was had returned. Around the same time, a peculiar new toy appeared on the London market. It became quite popular among noblewomen, especially widows. The sellers claimed it was a product of the royal court—likely not entirely baseless.
But all of that was a story for another time. Albert, burdened with state affairs, stayed in Berlin for only three days before rushing back to London.
Life is like that—people come and go in a hurry. The day after Albert's departure, Smith, accompanied by Friedrich, visited Charlottenburg Palace to pay respects to his "grandfather," King Wilhelm.
Ever since Smith's "brilliant talents" had left King Wilhelm in awe, the stubborn old man began to see his grandson in a new light. The faint traces of disdain and prejudice were swept away, and every time Wilhelm saw Smith from afar, an involuntary smile would creep onto his face.
However, Smith remained indifferent to Wilhelm's dramatic change in attitude. He could always sense the unspoken monologue behind the old man's smile:
"Look, this is my grandson!"
The emphasis was on "my," not Smith. Smith was keenly aware of the difference.
Friedrich might have noticed this dynamic or perhaps remained oblivious, but he increasingly enjoyed bringing Smith along to see Wilhelm. Smith understood why. In these moments, he felt like the lubricant in this dysfunctional family. If he weren't the healthy, intelligent boy he was now—if he were instead a crippled and tormented soul—this family would likely be engulfed in constant conflict.
Just like in history.
So, whenever Friedrich invited Smith to accompany him to see Wilhelm, Smith never declined. Each visit was an opportunity—an opportunity to exert his influence.
Not by sitting in front of the self-important and egotistical old man to lecture him, but subtly, as a grandson seeking wisdom from his grandfather. He would discuss the books he had read, the thoughts he had, and the questions he wanted to ask.
It was a classic conversational strategy. On the surface, Smith positioned himself as the weaker party, with Wilhelm as the authority. Yet, the flow of the dialogue was entirely under Smith's control. Unknowingly, Wilhelm would follow Smith's lead. This skill was something Smith had mastered before his reincarnation. Though it might seem like playing the role of a sycophant, it worked exceptionally well on men like Wilhelm.
—After all, how else do researchers secure funding without a little finesse?
That day, as the sun dipped low in the sky, Friedrich and Smith were leaving Charlottenburg Palace. Just as they stepped off the first step outside the palace gate, they saw a carriage speeding toward them. It stopped at the gate, and a tall, burly figure stepped out.
Smith recognized him instantly—it was Otto von Bismarck.
There was no ignoring each other in such a direct encounter. Smith noticed a fleeting trace of displeasure on Friedrich's face, which quickly vanished as he composed himself. Meanwhile, whatever thoughts Bismarck had undergone were unknown to Smith. By the time Smith looked at him, Bismarck's face bore a warm and friendly smile.
"Good day, Your Royal Highness!" Bismarck greeted Friedrich with a bow.
"I have just returned from my mission in Khitan and am here to report to His Majesty. I had planned to visit your palace afterward, but it seems fate has brought us together here first!"
"Thank you for your service, Ambassador," Friedrich replied, his tone and expression perfectly formal.
"You must be weary from your travels. Once you've reported to His Majesty, you should rest at your residence."
"Your kindness is much appreciated, Your Royal Highness," Bismarck said, understanding the subtext in Friedrich's words. He graciously accepted the dismissal.
"Please convey my regards to the Crown Princess and Princess Charlotte."
Turning to Smith, Bismarck bowed again with equal respect.
"It is a great pleasure to see you again, Your Royal Highness the Crown Prince!"
"I have been looking forward to meeting you again," Smith replied, nodding in return.
"I have yet to thank you properly for saving my life."
Bismarck was taken aback. Despite his extensive network in Berlin, he was unaware of Smith's current circumstances. After all, Khitan and Prussia were worlds apart, and who could have imagined that a child not yet three years old could speak so fluently and logically?
"My dear God!" Bismarck's voice sharpened in surprise.
"Your healthy growth is thanks enough! You are destined to become a remarkable ruler!"
"Thank you for your praise," Smith said with a smile.
"My grandfather must be waiting for you. I hope to hear about your adventures in Khitan another day."
"It would be my pleasure," Bismarck replied, his gaze filled with astonishment and curiosity. But he knew it was time to take his leave.
"Duty calls, so I must bid you farewell."
With that, Bismarck bowed once more to Friedrich and Smith before striding into Charlottenburg Palace.
"Willie, you seem to like Bismarck?" Friedrich asked as Bismarck's figure disappeared into the distance.
"Not exactly like—more like curiosity, Father," Smith replied earnestly.
"I think he is both ambitious and capable, someone we cannot avoid in the decades to come. We must understand his character and methods, or Prussia's future will be entirely in his hands."
Friedrich was momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected his young son to think so deeply—Smith was not yet three years old!
"Father, do you know much about him?" Smith asked in return.
This question left Friedrich speechless. Indeed, Bismarck had entered his life back in 1848, over a decade ago. But how much did Friedrich truly know about him?
Yes, he knew Bismarck's appearance, recognized Bismarck's voice, and was aware of many embarrassing stories from Bismarck's wild youth. But when it came to understanding the deeper aspects of this tall, sharp-voiced man—his behavior, his way of thinking, and his decision-making style—Frederick had no answers.
In other words, he only understood "Bismarck" as a symbol, not as a person.
His son's recent remarks, however, jolted Frederick awake. Indeed, a man like Bismarck, ambitious and extraordinarily capable, was never going to fade into obscurity. Though he was now merely a diplomat, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before he rose higher. Wasn't his father already considering appointing him as Interior Minister? And he was only in his forties, which meant he would remain active in Prussian politics for a long time. If Frederick failed to truly understand this Otto von Bismarck, the future of the country might very well fall into his hands.
For a fleeting moment, Frederick felt as if he had wasted the past decade. In all that time, he could have come to understand Bismarck.
"What have I been doing all these years?" Frederick began to reflect.
The answer was obvious: Frederick had an instinctive aversion to people like Bismarck. This aversion drove him to stay far away from Bismarck, let alone make an effort to understand him.
Smith had realized this long before Frederick did. Historically, it took the struggles and conflicts of the 1860s and 1870s—marked by a series of major events—for the Prussian Crown Prince and future German Emperor to gradually understand Bismarck's character and political acumen. It wasn't until the late 1880s that Frederick could work relatively smoothly with Bismarck, and by then, his life was already nearing its end.
"Shamefully, Willie," Frederick broke the silence after a long pause, "I don't think I understand him very well either. I just don't like him much... But you're right, we should try to understand him."
At this point, Frederick felt a pang of sadness for his son. Poor Willie! What had he been through in his short life? And now, this brilliant little boy was already grappling with such weighty issues—at not even three years old! Think about it: children of commoners or even ordinary noble families lived carefree, worry-free lives at this age.
"I feel I've wronged you, Willie," Frederick said after a long pause. "If only I weren't the Crown Prince..."
Hearing these words from Frederick didn't surprise Smith. This was the tension created by Frederick's upbringing and experiences, which eventually led him to embrace liberalism. But as Rousseau said, "Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains." Freedom was the ideal; chains were the reality. What could one do?
"If only I hadn't transmigrated..." Smith thought to himself. In this regard, he was a pragmatic pessimist. The past couldn't be undone, and since he was here, the question was how to move forward.
"Father, that's not something we can choose, is it?" Smith said. "But being your son is truly my good fortune."
Smith meant it. For all of Frederick's flaws, a quick glance at Prussian history revealed that among the Hohenzollerns, Frederick was at least the least terrible parent.
Frederick said no more. He picked up his son and walked toward their carriage under the golden rays of the setting sun.
"Thank you for briefing me on the situation in Khitan," said King William in his office at Charlottenburg Palace as Frederick and his son returned to the Crown Prince's residence.
"Once again, thank you for your extraordinary work in Khitan!"
"Happy to serve, Your Majesty," Bismarck replied with a radiant smile. "Bismarck will always be your loyal servant."
King William did not respond to Bismarck's words. Instead, he changed the subject.
"As you may have heard, tensions between my government and the parliament have escalated sharply, almost to the breaking point. But God forbid Prussia endure another 1848. What are your thoughts?"
Bismarck was well aware of what the King meant. During his time in Khitan, his informants and friends in Berlin had kept him updated on domestic affairs. Conflicts between the King's government and the parliament were nothing new in Prussia, but not since 1848 had the antagonism reached such a fever pitch.
This was no good omen. In 1848, the conflict culminated in a popular uprising that drove the army out of Berlin, leaving the then-King, Frederick William IV, effectively a prisoner of the rebels. William himself had only escaped by fleeing to England. Who could say how history might have unfolded otherwise?
"If another uprising breaks out, Your Majesty might not be so lucky this time," Bismarck thought wryly, though he would never dare voice such a sentiment.
"I've just returned to the country," Bismarck said, adopting a tactical retreat. "I cannot claim to have a full grasp of the current situation, but one thing is certain: the conflict with parliament must be resolved peacefully."
"Of course," King William replied, gesturing for Bismarck to take a seat. He decided to cut to the chase.
"The parliament's strategy is to strangle us by withholding the budget. I've used some measures to temporarily address the financial issue. Barring unforeseen circumstances, our funds should last until winter, perhaps next spring. But this is not a sustainable solution."
Bismarck had heard rumors of this situation but feigned ignorance, waiting for the King to continue.
"Frankly, the current Prime Minister has proven weak and ineffective in dealing with parliament," King William said. "I believe Prussia needs a new Prime Minister."