Sky over Beijing, 1940;
The Hanseatic government aircraft maintained its steady course through the crisp morning air above the North China Plain, its distinctive silver livery gleaming as it descended towards Beijing. Four JI-7 fighters—the Empire's newest and most advanced interceptors—flanked the diplomatic transport in precise formation, their sleek profiles cutting through the thin atmosphere with mechanical grace. To any observer on the ground below, the sight could only signal the arrival of dignitaries of considerable importance.
Within the luxuriously appointed cabin of the government airliner, three passengers occupied themselves with the final preparations for what promised to be a diplomatically delicate mission. Foreign Minister Anton von Hausen, whose grey hair and measured demeanor reflected decades of service in the Imperial Foreign Ministry, reviewed his briefing documents with characteristic thoroughness. The leather portfolio before him contained intelligence assessments, diplomatic protocols, and sealed instructions from Emperor Konrad II himself—materials that would guide the Empire's approach to one of the most important negotiations in recent memory.
Beside him sat two young officers of the Imperial Guard whose presence on this journey reflected both the mission's importance and the Empire's careful attention to protocol. Captain Kylian von Reichsgraf and Captain Wolfgang von Witzland, both twenty-two years of age and recent graduates of the Imperial Military Academy at Bechaven, represented the finest products of Hanseatic military education. Their uniforms bore the distinctive silver & rubies braiding that marked them as members of the Emperor's personal guard, while their bearing spoke to years of rigorous training in both military arts and diplomatic etiquette.
Both officers came from families whose names carried considerable weight within the Imperial hierarchy. The House of von Reichsgraf had served the Empire since its founding sixteen centuries earlier, producing a distinguished line of Field Marshals, Imperial Chancellors, and Governors whose portraits lined the halls of the Crystal Palace in Kristallberg. Wolfgang's family, the von Witzlands, held ducal rank in the Duchy of Ostalia—one of the Empire's wealthiest provinces—and had built their reputation through generations of military service and commercial enterprise.
Despite their aristocratic backgrounds, both young men had formed a close friendship during their academy years that transcended the usual rivalries of noble houses. Their complementary temperaments—Kylian's measured thoughtfulness balanced by Wolfgang's intellectual curiosity—had made them natural partners in their military studies and subsequent diplomatic assignments.
Wolfgang had spent much of the journey absorbed in his well-worn copy of The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, the ancient Chinese epic having captured his imagination since childhood. His fascination with Eastern history and culture had made him something of an expert among his peers, though he readily admitted that academic study provided poor preparation for experiencing the reality of the Middle Kingdom.
"Do you suppose we'll have the opportunity to visit any of the historical sites?" Wolfgang asked, pressing his face closer to the aircraft's porthole as the landscape rolled beneath them. The patchwork of rice paddies and traditional villages seemed to stretch endlessly toward the horizon, broken occasionally by the elegant curves of pagoda roofs or the serpentine line of an ancient canal.
Kylian had been similarly captivated by the aerial view, his normally composed demeanor softened by genuine wonder at the foreign landscape. The geometric precision of agricultural terraces carved into hillsides spoke to millennia of human cultivation, while the graceful architecture visible from their altitude suggested a civilization that had achieved remarkable artistic sophistication.
"I suspect our schedule will be rather full," he replied thoughtfully, "but you're quite right—there's something magnificent about this country. The sense of continuity is extraordinary."
Wolfgang nodded, though his expression carried a note of concern. "Beautiful, certainly, but some areas appear rather... neglected, don't they? As if resources have been stretched thin in recent years."
Their conversation was interrupted as Wolfgang, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, turned toward Foreign Minister von Hausen. The diplomat had been notably reticent about the specifics of their mission, providing only the general outline necessary for their preparation.
"Excellency," Wolfgang began with careful formality, "might I inquire about the precise nature of our diplomatic objectives? The Emperor's instructions were necessarily brief, and I confess myself somewhat unclear about the scope of our mission here."
Von Hausen looked up from his documents, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts. The Foreign Minister had perfected the art of diplomatic inscrutability during three decades of service, and he applied those skills even to his own subordinates when circumstances required discretion.
"All will become clear in due course, Captain von Witzland," he replied evenly. "However, I will remind you both that we are entering a culture that places extraordinary emphasis on tradition, ceremony, and proper etiquette. The customs of the Chinese Imperial Court are both ancient and complex—a single breach of protocol could have serious diplomatic consequences."
Kylian straightened in his seat, his military training asserting itself. "Surely the fundamental principles cannot be so different from European court protocol, your excellency. We've both attended state functions in Yugoslavia, Denmark, and Britain without incident."
The Foreign Minister's slight smile held no warmth. "My dear Captain, Eastern diplomatic etiquette is an entirely different discipline from what you encountered in European capitals. In Beijing, an incorrect bow at the wrong moment can be interpreted as deliberate insult. A gift presented with the improper hand can terminate negotiations before they properly begin. I strongly advise you to observe carefully and speak only when directly addressed until you've had sufficient time to learn the local customs."
Both officers acknowledged their understanding with crisp nods, though Wolfgang felt a flutter of apprehension at the Foreign Minister's warnings. The Imperial Military Academy had trained them to conduct themselves with dignity in any social situation, but the prospect of navigating an entirely foreign system of ceremonial requirements was more daunting than he cared to admit.
As the aircraft began its final descent, the sprawling metropolis of Beijing came into view—a fascinating amalgamation of ancient walls and modern buildings, traditional hutongs and broad avenues that spoke to China's ongoing struggle to balance imperial heritage with contemporary demands.
The airfield where they landed told its own story of the Chinese Empire's current circumstances. Even from altitude, Kylian had noted the facility's somewhat deteriorated appearance, but the reality on the ground proved more sobering than anticipated. The concrete runway showed extensive cracking and multiple patches, while the terminal building displayed clear evidence of deferred maintenance. Paint peeled from metal structures, and several hangars appeared to have been abandoned entirely.
Most telling were the aircraft scattered across the tarmac—a heterogeneous collection that spoke to the Chinese military's logistical challenges. Obsolete fighters from the previous decade sat alongside a handful of newer Soviet-manufactured aircraft, many showing signs of inadequate maintenance. Mixed among these were various foreign models, creating a chaotic assembly that suggested desperate attempts to maintain operational capability through whatever means available.
"Good Lord," Wolfgang whispered as they taxied toward the terminal, "half of those aircraft appear to belong in a museum."
Kylian assessed the scene with professional interest. Maintenance crews worked diligently despite obviously inadequate equipment and supplies, while the evident shortage of spare parts had forced Chinese engineers to resort to improvised solutions that would have horrified their Hanseatic counterparts.
"I'd estimate fewer than one-quarter of those machines are genuinely airworthy," he murmured in response. "Their air force must be in even worse condition than our intelligence assessments suggested."
Their quiet commentary was overheard by Foreign Minister von Hausen, who fixed both officers with a stern look. "Gentlemen, while professional observations are natural and expected, kindly remember that we are guests in this country. Diplomatic courtesy requires that any critical assessments remain strictly confidential. Our Chinese hosts must not overhear disparaging remarks about their military capabilities."
Both officers straightened immediately, properly chastened by the reminder. Whatever their private conclusions about Chinese military readiness, diplomatic protocol demanded absolute discretion in such matters.
As the aircraft engines wound down and the boarding stairs were positioned, they observed a small but dignified welcoming party waiting on the tarmac. The delegation was headed by a middle-aged Chinese official whose elaborate traditional dress and carefully composed bearing marked him as a person of significant rank within the Imperial bureaucracy.
The formal disembarkation and subsequent introductions proceeded with all the ceremony such occasions demanded. The Chinese official—who presented himself as Foreign Minister Li Weiming—greeted Ambassador von Hausen with the elaborate courtesy that characterized Chinese diplomatic tradition, inquiring solicitously about their journey while conveying His Imperial Majesty's personal regards to the visiting delegation.
"The Son of Heaven eagerly anticipates receiving your delegation," Minister Li declared as he shook hands with each member of the Hanseatic party in turn. "I trust your accommodations at the embassy compound will prove entirely satisfactory."
Von Hausen responded with equally formal courtesy, expressing profound gratitude for Chinese hospitality and his own eager anticipation of paying proper respects to the Emperor. Both young officers exchanged meaningful glances upon hearing direct reference to an imperial audience—suddenly the true significance of their mission became clear, and they experienced a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation at the prospect of standing before one of the world's most ancient thrones.
The convoy that transported them from the airfield provided their first substantial glimpse of Beijing's character. The black limousines provided by the Chinese government—clearly among their better official vehicles—carried the diplomatic party through streets that presented a fascinating synthesis of ancient and modern, Eastern and Western influences.
Traditional courtyard houses stood adjacent to newer European-style buildings, while ancient temples shared neighborhoods with modern commercial establishments. The pedestrians they observed wore an equally diverse mixture of traditional Chinese garments and Western fashion, creating a visual tableau that spoke to a society navigating rapid cultural transformation.
Wolfgang, unable to resist documenting their journey, had brought along a handheld compact camera and was capturing street scenes of particular interest. The architectural contrasts fascinated him—elaborate Ming Dynasty gateways leading to thoroughly modern office buildings, while Buddhist monasteries operated alongside Western-style schools and hospitals.
"Building a photographic record?" Kylian asked, noting his friend's obvious fascination with their surroundings.
"Precisely," Wolfgang replied, adjusting his camera's focus for another shot. "When we return home, colleagues will find it difficult to believe what we've witnessed here. Besides, I rather hope we'll have opportunities to explore some of these locations during our stay."
Kylian's expression suggested skepticism about such possibilities. "State visits rarely allow for tourism, Wolfgang. We'll be fortunate to see anything beyond conference rooms and official reception halls."
Their conversation was interrupted by the more substantive discussion taking place between the senior diplomats in the front seats. Foreign Minister von Hausen and Minister Li were conversing in English, their voices sufficiently low to maintain confidentiality while remaining audible to their attentive escorts.
"The wedding celebration uniting Her Imperial Highness Princess Ankang with His Imperial Highness Prince Itsuhito is scheduled to commence within the month," Minister Li was explaining. "Preparations are proceeding according to traditional protocols, though naturally your delegation has arrived for entirely separate purposes."
Wolfgang's eyebrows rose with interest as he whispered to his companion, "A royal wedding involving Japanese princes? That should prove quite a spectacle."
Kylian nodded thoughtfully while maintaining focus on the diplomatic exchange, sensing that more significant information might emerge from their seniors' conversation.
"His Imperial Majesty particularly looks forward to tomorrow's formal audience," Minister Li continued. "The subjects he wishes to discuss are of considerable urgency and require the utmost discretion."
"I remain entirely at His Majesty's disposal," Foreign Minister von Hausen replied with diplomatic formality. "The Hanseatic Empire values its relationship with the Middle Kingdom most highly and stands prepared to assist in any manner consistent with our mutual interests and sovereign obligations."
Their destination proved to be a magnificent structure located in one of Beijing's most prestigious districts, within convenient proximity to the Forbidden City itself. The building housing the Hanseatic Embassy had clearly served diplomatic functions for generations, its architecture reflecting the elegant sensibilities of Ming Dynasty craftsmanship while incorporating modern amenities necessary for contemporary diplomatic operations.
The embassy gates were adorned with intricate carved motifs representing traditional Chinese artistic themes, while the compound walls featured decorative elements that spoke to centuries of refined aesthetic development. A small artificial pond, populated with ornamental fish and surrounded by carefully tended gardens, created a serene atmosphere that provided welcome respite from the bustling streets beyond.
The contrast with some of the more deteriorated areas they had observed during their journey was immediately apparent. Here, streets were properly maintained and regularly cleaned, while buildings showed clear evidence of recent renovation and ongoing upkeep. This was clearly where Beijing housed its most important foreign diplomatic missions and honored guests.
The Hanseatic embassy itself occupied a particularly impressive compound—a traditional Chinese mansion that had obviously once belonged to someone of extraordinary wealth and influence. The architectural details visible from the street suggested Ming Dynasty origins, while the building's exceptional state of preservation indicated careful stewardship over the centuries.
As their limousine drew to a halt before the embassy gates, Minister Li turned to address Foreign Minister von Hausen. "I would be pleased to return tomorrow morning to escort your delegation to the Forbidden City for the imperial audience."
Von Hausen politely declined the offer. "Your courtesy is most gracious, Minister Li, but I believe we can manage our own transportation. There is no need to impose further upon your valuable time."
The Chinese official acknowledged this decision with a respectful bow before taking his formal leave of the Hanseatic delegation.
"Fascinating architectural choice," Kylian observed as they stepped from their vehicle. "They've provided us with a building of genuine historical significance."
"Indeed," Wolfgang agreed, already reaching for his camera to document their new quarters. "Our Foreign Ministry certainly knows how to secure appropriate diplomatic accommodations."
Their photographic activities were interrupted by Foreign Minister von Hausen's voice calling from the embassy entrance. "Gentlemen, if you would care to join me? We have considerable preparation to complete before tomorrow's audience."
Both officers hurried to catch up with their superior, Wolfgang reluctantly pocketing his camera as they passed through the compound's ornate gates. The day ahead promised to be among the most significant of their young diplomatic careers, and proper preparation would be essential for success.
Thank you for reading the first chapter of this story. I hope you enjoyed it! I know the pacing has been slow but do stick around, I hope in future chapters, this will be an interesting read for you all!
Thank you again!