Chapter Thirty: You’d Better Eat Well These Days

Lin Fan drew in a sharp breath. Could these people really have changed their ways? For a moment, the heavy weight in his heart was lifted. After all, regardless of the circumstances, the steel resources so crucial to Daxia were now within reach.

Yet this tremendous joy did not cloud Lin Fan’s judgment. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.

No, something isn’t right, he thought, shaking his head. He still remembered clearly. In his previous life, after the first descent of the deities, Daxia had barely managed to defend itself, but because the deity had manifested in the ocean near their shores, the cost had been devastating. At that time, not only did the other countries make no effort to fend off the next invasion, nor did they offer any aid to Daxia. Instead, like wolves eyeing prey, they dispatched troops, conducting so-called military exercises right along Daxia’s borders, just when the nation was overwhelmed with repairs and recovery.

Were it not for the sudden arrival of the next wave of deities, plunging all nations into crisis, Daxia would likely have been carved up among them. These people saw only their own interests—how could they possibly be willing to sell such precious steel resources to Daxia on the eve of another divine incursion?

There had to be some hidden agenda behind this. Lin Fan suddenly turned to Shang Weitian. “Did they make any demands?”

“Demands?” Shang Weitian pondered for a moment. “Not exactly. All their replies contain one stipulation: that we pay the international market price at the time the steel enters our borders, either in cash or with military products of equal value.”

Lin Fan frowned. The words sounded reasonable enough, but why emphasize this point so strongly?

He suddenly laughed. “Ah, I see their game. These people are as treacherous as ever. The sheer volume of steel—if we try to buy it, it’ll severely strain our national strength. If we can’t pay, they’ll use that as a pretext to jointly declare war on us. And even if we can pay, the process of converting the steel into actual production will take time, leaving us vulnerable. They’ll seize that window to attack us as well.”

Lin Fan understood their intention. They wanted to see whether Daxia could swallow this batch of steel. If you want resources, we’ll let you have them. But if you can’t handle it, don’t blame us for what comes next.

This so-called timely help was in fact a hidden trap. The value of twenty billion tons of steel was simply astronomical.

If paid in military products, it would cost Daxia nearly half of its current arsenal. By then, would Daxia’s soldiers—deprived of firearms and heavy weapons—be expected to fight with knives alone? This was the sinister move hidden behind their so-called act of goodwill.

Indeed, wolves would always be wolves. Some circumstances might change, but some people never would.

Hearing Lin Fan’s explanation, even Chen Yan, whose mind was always on scientific research, finally understood. “Can we really afford this?”

“We can,” Shang Weitian replied, his expression complicated, “but if we do, the treasury will be emptied. Afterward, how could we expect the workers to build the Steel Great Wall for free?”

He rubbed his chin. “I was thinking we could pay half in cash and half in military products... Or we could print more currency, but that would shock our monetary system.”

“No need,” Lin Fan interrupted, shaking his head. “Military products are just as crucial as steel in the coming battle against the deities. Not a single gun can be spared. We’re already ramping up conscription and overproducing weaponry as it is; how can we afford to give away our own arms? How would we fight the next battle?”

“As for printing more money,” Lin Fan continued, “let me tell you this: in the future, Daxia’s currency will become the only stable and globally accepted currency. If you print more now just to pay for this, wouldn’t you be undermining our own foundation?”

Shang Weitian looked troubled. “Then...”

“Don’t worry, I have a solution.” Lin Fan leaned in and whispered a few words in his ear.

Shang Weitian froze, his pupils contracting sharply. “Is that... even possible?”

“Why not?” Lin Fan sneered. “All they want is for us to pay. Isn’t that money? They think Daxia can’t handle this steel. They think we’re still the impoverished country of the past, with barely a handful of well-off families.”

“Well then. Let’s show them whether Daxia can handle this steel. It’s time to let the world see the foundation we’ve accumulated over these years.”

A glimmer of excitement lit up Shang Weitian’s eyes. Those other nations always assumed Daxia was the same as before. Even the more perceptive ones thought Daxia was growing stronger, but still not quite powerful enough. In truth, Daxia had already quietly risen over the years—and at a pace far beyond their imagination. The collective strength of 1.3 billion people was not something they could ever fathom.

Yet Shang Weitian still harbored some concerns. “But if we take this step, our foreign currency reserves will be depleted. The Western powers will likely strike at us financially... They could even impose a commercial blockade.”

Lin Fan laughed coldly. “Let them try. In the past, we paid dearly just to be their factory. But now, even without them, our people can live just fine. We have a vast land and abundant resources. If they blockade us, what difference does it make? Grain? Minerals? If they truly cut us off, would they really dare to sever ties with their top customer?”

Daxia was no longer the world’s factory of old. It had become the largest consumer nation on the planet. A blockade? At worst, we’ll rely on ourselves.

But most importantly—Lin Fan clapped Shang Weitian on the shoulder and smiled. “In three months, who’s to say who will still be standing? We don’t have time for infighting now. When the time comes, they might be the ones begging us for help.”

“Go ahead and do what needs to be done. The rest—Daxia’s 1.3 billion people have your back!”

Daxia’s 1.3 billion people have your back! That was Lin Fan’s confidence.

Shang Weitian drew a deep breath, standing tall and straight as a surge of unprecedented strength filled his body. Behind him stood the countless faces of Daxia’s people.

“All right,” Lin Fan said with a smile. “Now that we have the steel resources, the treasury has already begun transferring some of it to Ludong, and the state construction teams are on the move as well.”

“Elder Chen, come with me to Ludong. We’ll need you to personally oversee the construction of the Steel Great Wall.”

Elder Chen nodded.

Lin Fan returned to the conference room, where the ancient martial arts heirs were still cultivating. He clapped his hands. “That’s enough for now—continue your training in the vehicle. Everyone, head downstairs immediately.”

Wang Hu, newly emerged from his cultivation, stretched and flexed, feeling the power within him. “Commander, what’s going on? Where are we headed?”

Lin Fan pointed to the map behind him. “We’re going to the eastern coast. There, we’ll build the Steel Great Wall!”

“What?” Wang Hu was even more puzzled. “Isn’t that a job for the construction teams? What does it have to do with us?”

Lin Fan chuckled. If he remembered correctly, in this unprecedented project, certain things slumbering beneath the earth would soon awaken.

“You’d better eat well in the coming days,” Lin Fan said, patting Wang Hu on the shoulder. “You’re in for a tough fight.”