After settling matters in Japan with crisp decisiveness, Arthur Lionheart did not linger for a single hour.
He left behind a frigate and a detachment of Royal Marines to "assist" Mizuno Tadakuni in the formal transfer of the Yokosuka naval base. As for himself, he personally commanded Revenge Queen, accompanied by two steam frigates, cutting once more across the Eastern seas toward the Dagu Forts with a speed that defied the imagination of the age.
When the colossal silhouette of Revenge Queen—dark as iron and tall as a cliff—reappeared on the horizon, the Qing garrison stationed at the forts nearly collapsed into panic.
Especially Qiying, the Imperial Commissioner, who had been waiting on the shore with nerves wound tight as violin strings.
He has returned.
That demon has finally returned.
In the fifteen days since Arthur Lionheart's departure, Qiying and the entire Tianjin bureaucracy had lived in constant dread. Every sunrise felt like a reprieve; every sunset, an omen. They feared that the second-ranking "Red-Haired Devil," General Yili—left behind in port—might grow displeased, turn his cannons toward Tianjin, and reenact the destruction of the Tenshukaku in Japanese lands.
But what truly unnerved them was their complete loss of control over Arthur's movements. They had dispatched countless scouts and small boats to locate the ironclad's whereabouts—none returned with knowledge. That ignorance alone sent a cold shadow through the Qing court.
Now, seeing that Arthur Lionheart had returned unscathed—and towing behind him several defeated Japanese warships flying strange clover-shaped banners, like carcasses dragged in the wake—their fear reached its zenith.
"Merciful heavens!" an officer stammered, his voice trembling as he stared at the captured Japanese vessels. "H-has he… destroyed Japan as well?!"
"It appears so…" another muttered, swallowing hard. "They say Japanese pirates were fierce. And yet before Prince Arthur they are… paper."
Qiying, hearing the murmurs, wiped the cold sweat running down his temples. Relief washed through him like a tide.
Fortunate… fortunate indeed that this old man perceived the situation early, and never dared oppose this living Buddha.
Without hesitation, he issued his most "prudent" command:
"Prepare the boats! Sound the drums! Bring the finest wine, finest dishes—summon the most elegant courtesans! This official shall greet our illustrious ally personally!"
On the quarterdeck of Revenge Queen, Arthur observed the commotion ashore with mild amusement.
"It appears Lord Qiying missed us dearly in our absence," he remarked to General Yili beside him.
The general gave a low chuckle. "Your Highness, with respect, I have never witnessed defeated foes so… exuberantly hospitable."
When Qiying finally boarded Revenge Queen, his face blossomed into a smile so wide it seemed carved; he bowed deeply.
"Your Royal Highness! You have returned at last! This humble servant has thought of you day and night, praying for your safe return!"
To an untrained eye, he might have seemed a father greeting a beloved son long lost.
"Is that so?" Arthur answered lightly. "I half-expected Lord Qiying to use my absence to muster troops and prepare for a few hundred more rounds of battle."
"Heavens, no! Your Highness jests!" Qiying's terror was palpable as he waved his hands. "We—Your Highness and we—are allies! How could we do something that harms our allies and delights our enemies?"
"Since we are 'allies'…" Arthur's smile acquired a faint chill, "how, then, did your family receive the 'letter' I instructed you to dispatch to Beijing? Have they sent a reply?"
Qiying froze. The smile on his face went rigid.
"At once, Your Highness! Immediately—yes!"
He hurriedly produced the finalized treaty, bearing the imperial seal of the Great Qing, holding it high with both hands.
"My Emperor has declared—he accepts every stipulation you proposed. Entirely. Without exception."
He produced a second document: an official silver note issued by the Qing Revenue Office, redeemable for three million taels in Guangzhou.
"This is… a token of respect. A humble offering ' for Your Highness and the officers of your esteemed navy. We beg that Your Highness accept it graciously."
Arthur took the treaty—the foundation for Sino-British relations for decades to come—along with the heavy silver note. A faint, satisfied nod followed.
His strategic objectives in the East had been achieved.
No mass bloodshed.
No popular hatred to poison later relations.
And yet he had secured terms far more decisive than anything signed in the histories he remembered.
He had disciplined China's future adversary, adopted a pliable "protégé" in Japan, and planted Britain's first anchor in a long-term Far Eastern strategy.
Three birds with one stone.
"Well done," Arthur finally said, offering Qiying a smile of almost benevolent approval. "Lord Qiying, you have acquitted yourself satisfactorily. Convey this to your Emperor: since we are now allies, then—as allies—I expect the ports named in the treaty to be cleared at once for the reception of our merchants."
"As for the technical teams who will 'assist' you in building railways and arsenals, I shall dispatch them promptly upon my return to London."
"Yes! Yes! Everything shall be arranged precisely as Your Highness commands!" Qiying nodded vigorously, like garlic crushed beneath a pestle.
"You may go," Arthur said, flicking his hand, dismissing him as one might dismiss a clerk.
Qiying bowed so deeply it was almost pitiful, then scrambled away as though granted a great favor.
Watching the man's frantic retreat, Arthur Lionheart allowed a slight curve to touch his lips.
From this day forth, the once-arrogant "Celestial Empire" would abandon its centuries-old dream of isolation.
He had dragged it—irrevocably—into the world's arena of power, the global game ruled by industry, steel.
"Transmit my orders," Arthur said calmly to General Yili behind him.
"The fleet will undertake final resupply."
"Our Eastern excursion has come to its end."