Throughout the long history of the Central Plains, the empire of the Son of Heaven had not always been the strongest power in the world.
From ancient times onward, the dynasties of China had lived with the constant fear of invasion from northern nomadic tribes.
If the dynasties of the Central Plains had truly been invincible, there would have been no reason to build something like the Great Wall in the first place.
The pattern repeated itself many times.
When the Khitans founded Liao, when the Jurchens established Jin, and when the Mongols created the Yuan dynasty, the situation had been much the same.
Whenever the power of the steppe peoples reached its peak, even the dynasties of the Central Plains were forced to yield before their momentum.
But such moments never lasted long.
Even when the Chinese order collapsed temporarily, it always rebuilt itself—often absorbing those very conquerors into its own civilization.
Military strength alone was never the true foundation of China's power.
Its real strength lay in the superiority of its culture and technology.
Even the Qing dynasty, which ruled the empire today, had willingly assimilated itself into the cultural framework of the celestial order.
No one had forced them.
They had done it themselves.
For that reason, the Qing leadership did not consider the threat posed by Western powers particularly serious.
History itself seemed to prove that such disturbances would eventually fade.
The only real difference was that the barbarians no longer rode horses down from the northern steppe.
Now they arrived by ship from the western seas.
Of course, that did not mean everyone in Qing dismissed Britain entirely.
Even the Daoguang Emperor understood that Western military power could be dangerous if confronted directly.
Which was why he preferred to avoid armed conflict whenever possible.
It would be far better to appease the foreigners and resolve the crisis peacefully.
But that approach only worked if the foreigners were merely strong barbarians.
If they were truly plotting to destroy the Celestial Order itself, that was another matter entirely.
And the greatest problem of all was the growing suspicion that Lin Zexu, the governor responsible for handling the situation, was being far too lenient toward Britain.
"Governor, is it true that an imperial decree has just arrived from the Son of Heaven?"
"…Yes. I received it a moment ago."
Seeing the decree in Lin Zexu's hand, Yang Shengyuan immediately dropped to his knees in respect.
The arrival of an imperial edict at such a moment was rarely a good sign.
Lin Zexu normally might have smiled faintly at his subordinate's perceptiveness.
But today he did not have the luxury.
"His Majesty… seems concerned that I have been too lenient."
"Too lenient?" Yang Shengyuan exclaimed.
"You've confiscated every chest of opium in Guangdong and Guangxi! You've threatened imprisonment for anyone caught smuggling it. How could you possibly be more severe than that?"
"So I thought as well," Lin Zexu sighed.
"But it seems the emperor is not the only one who thinks so. Even friends in Beijing have begun sending letters expressing concern."
He glanced toward the pile of correspondence covering his desk.
Letters from old acquaintances. Former colleagues. Even distant associates.
Everyone seemed worried about how he was handling the situation.
Even members of the Grand Council were questioning whether he was doing the right thing.
At first Lin Zexu had suspected political intrigue.
But judging by the situation, that did not appear to be the case.
"The emperor has ordered that not only the opium on the mainland be confiscated," Lin Zexu continued, "but also the opium stored on nearby islands."
"He also demands a full investigation into Britain's contacts with Joseon and Japan. It seems he believes those matters are closely connected to the opium trade."
In truth, Lin Zexu himself suspected the same thing.
So he could not simply dismiss the emperor's order as excessive.
But no matter how thoroughly he investigated Killian Gore, nothing suspicious ever emerged.
And that was precisely what made the situation so maddening.
Every rumor suggested something was happening behind the scenes.
Yet whenever he dug deeper, he found nothing.
Whenever he met Killian in person, the man appeared entirely cooperative.
The result was that Lin increasingly felt like a fool for doubting him.
"If we push even harder under these circumstances," Lin Zexu muttered, "they may interpret it as a sign that we do not desire a peaceful resolution."
"Could it be," Yang Shengyuan said cautiously, "that His Majesty is prepared for war?"
"That seems increasingly likely."
Yang Shengyuan swallowed.
"But… would war truly be acceptable? We do not even know how strong these Western barbarians really are."
Lin Zexu waved a dismissive hand.
"Nonsense. The imperial armies of Qing cannot possibly lose to a handful of barbarians."
"Even if their strange technologies are somewhat superior, wars are not decided by weapons alone."
"After all, Britain lies half a year away by sea. How many soldiers could they realistically send?"
Even if war broke out, Qing would not be fighting Britain's entire army.
Only a small expeditionary force.
Every enemy China had ever truly struggled against had shared a border—nomadic powers capable of sending wave after wave of troops across the frontier.
If the Mongols or Khitans had lived six months away by sea, they never could have threatened the Central Plains.
"So you believe the war would be limited in scale?" Yang Shengyuan asked.
"Exactly."
"I had the officials run the numbers. Even if Britain declared war, they could send only a few warships and perhaps ten or twenty thousand soldiers."
"That does not sound particularly frightening."
"Indeed. So there is no reason to doubt His Majesty's judgment."
After all, even the strongest warrior cannot defeat ten opponents at once.
The foreigners' ironclad ships might be impressive.
But if twenty Chinese vessels surrounded one of them, what could it possibly do?
Yang Shengyuan finally relaxed.
"Your words put my mind at ease, Governor. I'll summon the British minister immediately."
"Even if we confiscate their opium, we should inform him beforehand to avoid unnecessary complications."
Once Yang Shengyuan departed, Lin Zexu remained alone in the room.
Slowly, he took out a cup of wine he had not touched in weeks.
Damn it… what am I supposed to do now?
This had to be a dream.
It had to be.
Please wake up.
Seize opium stored beyond Chinese territorial waters?
How?
Would British ships politely step aside just because Qing vessels approached?
And if Qing actually seized the cargo, would the British simply accept it?
This was essentially a declaration of war.
Did Beijing truly want that?
If the emperor himself desired such an outcome, Lin Zexu had no choice.
He had pretended confidence in front of his subordinate.
But privately, he shared Yang Shengyuan's fears.
Yes, the foreigners clearly possessed superior military technology.
But no one knew exactly how large the gap was.
That was the problem.
They had never truly fought.
All Lin Zexu could judge was what he had seen.
Foreign cannons seemed larger.
Their ships appeared faster and stronger.
Their guns fired farther and reloaded more quickly.
Those differences alone were alarming.
But perhaps superior numbers could still compensate.
But…
What if the gap is so large that numbers don't matter?
Should he secretly purchase cannons from American merchants?
But Beijing had declared all Westerners enemies.
If word reached the court that he had bought weapons from them…
No.
First he would speak with Killian.
If the man truly had no hidden agenda, perhaps war could still be avoided.
Lin drained the cup of wine in a single gulp and began thinking desperately.
* * *
By the time a reply arrived from Britain regarding the report I had sent months earlier, the atmosphere in Canton had become increasingly chaotic.
Opium merchants, blocked in Guangdong, began trying to land their cargo anywhere they could—Fujian, Zhejiang, anywhere that would allow them to continue smuggling.
But as Qing enforcement intensified, their situation became more difficult.
At the same time, I had my disguised agents sail more frequently toward Joseon and Japan.
Naturally, I did not forget to distribute bribes through back channels to ensure that the emperor in Beijing viewed Britain as increasingly threatening.
Months of carefully planted seeds were finally bearing fruit.
Lin Zexu urgently requested a meeting.
Since I had already anticipated this moment, I went to see the poor man immediately.
"Governor Lin," I said pleasantly, "I was about to ask how you were doing, but you don't look well."
"You know perfectly well that these days my mind is far from at ease," Lin Zexu replied.
"Unfortunately, I must deliver some unpleasant news today."
"Unpleasant news?"
"The emperor believes negotiations with your country are not progressing properly."
"You claim to be taking measures, yet opium smuggling continues."
"That seems rather unfair," I replied.
"We have participated sincerely in negotiations. While smuggling has not disappeared entirely, its scale has certainly declined."
"But you continue refusing our request to provide records of trade with Joseon and Japan."
"That is because no such records exist," I said calmly.
"Joseon itself gave you the same answer, did it not?"
Of course they did.
My ships never actually made contact.
They simply sailed in that direction before turning back.
Naturally there would be no evidence.
"But rumors about Britain continue to circulate in Beijing," Lin Zexu said.
"Regardless of my own authority, I cannot ignore the emperor's orders."
"Stronger measures will now be taken."
I sighed theatrically.
"We have done everything requested of us, yet your government grows ever harsher. I confess I find that rather disappointing."
"What measures do you intend?"
Lin Zexu hesitated.
Then he spoke.
"Opium is illegal in Qing territory. Therefore all opium belonging to British merchants will be confiscated."
"That is already happening," I replied.
"Everything in the Canton warehouses has been surrendered."
"This order applies not only to the mainland," Lin ZexuT said quietly.
"It also includes the islands."
"Specifically, all opium stored on Lintin Island will be confiscated."
"Our ships will soon sail there."
"If you cooperate, we can resolve this matter peacefully."
Well, well.
Our emperor is surprisingly decisive.
Even I hadn't expected him to go this far.
Inside, I was ecstatic.
But outwardly, I forced an expression of shock.
"You want all the opium on Lintin Island?"
"Do you even know how much is stored there?"
"Yes…" Lin Zexu replied carefully.
"That island lies within Qing territory. The merchants occupying it illegally must obey our laws."
Lintin Island functioned as a massive warehouse for British merchants.
Because Qing authorities tightly controlled Canton, merchants stored their opium there beyond Chinese enforcement.
Technically the island belonged to Qing.
But Western powers justified their presence using the so-called "cannon shot rule."
According to that absurd principle, territorial waters extended only as far as a coastal cannon could fire.
Anything beyond that range was considered open.
From a modern perspective the rule was ridiculous.
But at the time it was widely used.
Most Western nations considered Lintin outside Qing jurisdiction.
And Qing, lacking the naval strength to challenge them, had quietly tolerated the situation.
Now, however, Beijing was suddenly claiming full authority.
In other words:
If you don't like it, fight us.
"And if I refuse your request?" I asked.
"Then we will enforce it by force."
"Your navy is hardly capable of that."
"We will deploy sufficient forces."
In truth, even Qing's entire Guangdong fleet would struggle to seize that island.
If anyone else had been standing in my place, they might have laughed in Lin Zexu's face.
Lin Zexu clearly expected exactly that response.
Unfortunately for him…
I wanted the situation to escalate.
"In that case," I said thoughtfully, "we should hold discussions on Lintin Island itself."
"I will consult the merchant representatives."
"Let us determine a solution acceptable to both sides."
"…You're truly willing to consider it?" Lin Zexu asked in disbelief.
"You do not yet know how much opium is stored there," I said.
"Once you see the scale of the losses we would suffer, perhaps we can negotiate a compromise."
In reality, I simply did not want Qing to realize how weak they were compared to Britain—yet.
If they saw our merchant ships easily defeating their junks, they might become cautious.
Better to give them the impression that their hardline stance had intimidated us.
"Thank you for your cooperation," Lin Zexu said, visibly relieved.
He actually seemed hopeful.
Which made me almost feel guilty.
But how could I possibly ignore such a perfect opportunity?
Once Qing troops stepped into the warehouses holding the opium merchants' entire stock…
The stage would be set.
The response from London—Prime Minister and Parliament alike—should arrive any day now.
Once it did, I could destroy the opium cartel completely and place the entire blame squarely on the Daoguang Emperor.
Of course, the opposition in Parliament might complain that I had been sent to achieve a diplomatic solution, not provoke a war.
Which was precisely why I had sent that lengthy report in advance.
Thanks to that report, Britain would not be remembered as a nation that started a war simply because its drug trade had been banned.
But that outcome would not come for free.
After all, I had worked very hard for the interests of my country.
Surely I deserved some compensation.
Naturally, I had no intention of asking the government for special privileges.
So perhaps it would be acceptable to take my reward directly.
After all, the opium cartel would soon collapse completely.
Before someone else claimed the wealth they had accumulated…
I might as well put it to better use.
Good for me.
Good for the nation.
A perfect arrangement.
Really, I was a patriot to the bone.