CHAPTER 375: CHAPTER 370: A WEAK COUNTRY HAS NO DIPLOMACY

"Mr. Fuad, rest assured! You are the most important partner of our French Empire! Our French Empire will never abandon its friends!"

In order to better have Fuad Effendi work for the interests of the French Empire, Valerovsky placated this "traitor" with these words.

Fuad Effendi, upon receiving Valerovsky’s reply, had a joyful smile on his face. Fuad Edifen had now firmly bound the interests of the Ottoman Empire with those of the French Empire.

"I am very honored to become a friend of the French Empire! I also hope that the French Empire and the Ottoman Empire can support and help each other on the road ahead!" Fuad Effendi said to Valerovsky.

"Hmm!" Valerovsky nodded to Fuad Effendi, affirming his words, and then clapped his hands.

Soon, a servant residing in the embassy (actually a member of the National Intelligence Bureau’s Foreign Intelligence Department) brought a glass container filled with whiskey. Valerovsky rose and took the glass container from the tray, and Fuad Effendi, seeing this, also stood up.

"Sit down! Mr. Fuad!" Valerovsky said to Fuad Effendi, with a friendly yet commanding tone.

Fuad Effendi sat back on the sofa. Under Fuad Edifen’s watchful eyes, Valerovsky, holding the neck of the glass bottle, carefully poured the whiskey into Fuad Edifen’s glass, which was already empty, quickly filling it up.

Subsequently, Valerovsky also filled his own glass.

Placing the glass container on the table, Valerovsky raised his glass to Fuad and said, "To friendship!"

"To friendship!" Fuad Effendi also raised his glass in response.

After gulping down a glass of whiskey, Valerovsky felt as if there was a flame burning incessantly in his stomach; the whiskey, with an alcohol content exceeding 53%, was as strong as the white liquor from the East.

"I can’t take it anymore!" Valerovsky pretended to be overwhelmed by the alcohol and waved his hand at Fuad Effendi, politely saying, "I won’t keep you here any longer!"

After two glasses of whiskey, Fuad Edifen did not show any unusual signs, and he quickly stood up to bid farewell to Valerovsky.

After Fuad Edifen left the embassy, Valerovsky, who had been slumped on the sofa, suddenly sat up as if nothing had happened. His expression was unusually serious as if contemplating an important decision.

After a while, the embassy’s acting military officer (equivalent to an acting envoy, generally the person assuming the envoy’s duties during their report back to the country) came to where Valerovsky was sitting.

The acting military officer, who had accidentally learned of Valerovsky’s identity from an acquaintance in Paris, had always carefully catered to this fellow, fearing any displeasure.

Valerovsky’s current serious expression made the acting military officer feel that the air was filled with tension.

"Tell me, is this Fuad truly sincere on our side?" Valerovsky’s voice reached the ears of the perplexed acting military officer.

The acting military officer quickly said to Valerovsky, "Minister Fuad should truly want to ally with us; otherwise, he wouldn’t agree to hand over the decision-making power of the Holy Land to us!"

"Foolish!" Valerovsky glanced coldly at the acting military officer and said, "How do you know this isn’t something Fuad planned long ago! By exploiting the conflict between the French Empire and the Ottoman Empire, he aims to exhaust us both."

"No...impossible!" The acting military officer thought Valerovsky’s hypothesis was somewhat absurd; in his view, the Ottoman Empire had no choice, only the fate of being chosen.

"It’s never wrong to be cautious!" Valerovsky once again admonished the reckless fellow before him, "The current situation in the Ottoman Empire is becoming more and more unpredictable! A slight mistake could easily lead to disaster, so we must be even more cautious and vigilant!"

"Yes!" The acting military officer immediately replied loudly.

Then, Valerovsky once again returned to the telegram room, where he waited for a message from Paris.

Meanwhile, Fuad Edifen, who had left the French Embassy, turned and headed to the residence of the current Ottoman Prime Minister, Muhammad Ali.

Passing through a garden filled with the fragrance of birds and flowers, a two-story residence appeared before Fuad Edifen, with a style very similar to some residences in Paris.

A residence like this in Constantinople, a place filled with onion-domed churches, appeared overly Westernized.

Fuad Edifen knew that the design of this residence and garden was by a French high designer hired by Prime Minister Muhammad Ali himself.

Despite the seemingly Islamic name Muhammad Ali, this prime minister could be said to be among the highly Westernized minority within the court.

He was also one of the few proficient in Russian, French, German, and English. Frankly speaking, even in the decaying Ottoman Court, his degree of Westernization and eagerness for change far surpassed that of some countries in the East.

Not to mention, the current Ottoman Empire can still put up some degree of resistance against the Russian Empire.

Even during the time of the First World War, it can score brilliant victories like Gallipoli.

Those who don’t open their eyes to see the changes in the world cannot survive in the Ottoman Empire.

Led by a Greek servant, Fuad Edifen arrived at a room on the second floor of the embassy.

Opening the door to the room, Muhammad Ali’s figure appeared before Fuad. At that moment, he was standing in the room, half-bowed, polishing porcelain. These were porcelain pieces transported all the way from the Far East, each of considerable value, many of which were probably "collections" given to Muhammad Ali by merchants in Constantinople.

Thinking of this, a trace of envy appeared in Fuad Effendi’s eyes.

Power is an irresistible "toxin" that can numb a person, make an old man rejuvenate, and similarly can turn a vigorous person gray overnight.

"Master, Minister Fuad is here!" The Greek servant reported fluently in Greek to Muhammad Ali.

"Alright! I know!" Muhammad Ali stopped his work and turned to Fuad Edifen and said, "What did France say?"

"Envoy Valerovsky told me that the earliest time France will send troops won’t be before the end of June!" Fuad Edifen reported to Muhammad Ali and then added, "However, they said they will definitely join the battle!"

"These French, they just want us to go to die!" Muhammad Ali said with his usual scheming mindset, "As long as we fight against the Russian Empire, they can take advantage of the situation! Aren’t they afraid that we would ally with the Russian Empire?"

"We cannot ally with them!" Fuad Edifen hurriedly said to Muhammad Ali.

"Why?" Muhammad Ali glanced at Fuad Edifen, unsure where this guy actually stands.

"Valerovsky told me that if the Ottoman Empire decides to side with Russia, then the French Empire will take us down along with the Russian Empire!!" Fuad Edifen said to Muhammad Ali.

"Hmph! Damn French! Do they think they are still living in Napoleon’s era?" Muhammad Ali scolded angrily, embarrassed.

Fuad Edifen said nothing. From Valerovsky’s words, he heard Valerovsky’s confidence.

Perhaps, in his eyes, the Ottoman Empire and the Russian Empire combined really are inferior to the French Empire.

"Prime Minister, the French Empire’s fleet is enough to destroy our fleet and the Russian Empire’s fleet!" Fuad Edifen reminded Muhammad Ali.

Hearing Fuad Edifen’s reminder, Muhammad Ali, like a deflated ball, mumbled without being able to say a word.

Once the Ottoman Empire loses control of the sea, its vast territories in the Near East will face the risk of a collapse in order.

By then, the French Imperial Army will only need to confront the Russian Empire.

In this game of the Great Powers, the Ottoman Empire is nothing more than a toy of the Great Powers.

"What’s your solution?" Muhammad Ali asked Fuad Edifen with some dejection.

"Delay!" Fuad Edifen offered a non-solution, "Relying on the Ottoman Empire’s own strength, it’s impossible to defeat the Russian Empire, so we must draw in either Britain or France into the war. Since the French Empire has already assured us they will definitely join the war, we can only trust them and coordinate with the French Empire to delay until they are ready to join the battlefield, which will be the time for us to settle accounts with the Russian Empire."

"This..." Muhammad Ali thought for a moment and said to Fuad Edifen, "If that’s the case, you might become a scapegoat, dismissed, or even your life might be at risk."

"If we can delay until the French Empire joins, I will willingly resign!" Fuad Edifen displayed a different attitude from the one in the French Embassy, "As for the risk to my life, I don’t think that’s possible. I believe in Envoy Valerovsky; they wouldn’t let someone like me, who’s pro-French, die over this matter."

"If that’s the case, then we’ll go with your plan!" Muhammad Ali sighed again, "If there’s really no other way, I’ll resign too! Let that Rechid guy be the Prime Minister again. Didn’t he always say he has a deep friendship with the British Envoy? Then let’s see if his deeply connected envoy can lend him a hand at the crucial moment!"

"Yes!"

That night, Valerovsky finally received a telegram from Paris.

The telegram requested...