University of Phonaing - I have accepted his servant.

Chapter (1)

It was a rainy night in late May, 1885.

On this dark night, filled with the sound of rain and wind, a bullock cart suddenly crashed into the courtyard of the three-story house of Francis M. Frederik Hacts, surrounded by a five-story wall in the western part of the jewel-like city of Nay Pyi Taw, a horse-drawn carriage.

Three people, their heads and bodies covered in black robes, descended from the carriage. At that moment, a sharp sound like the chirping of a hundred birds broke through the sound of the rain and wind, and the three people who had descended from the carriage took a step back. However, a guard with a bayonet appeared from inside the gate.

"Please, Ko Yin Kyauk Lone Yar, isn't Ko Yin Kin Wut first? Let us feed you first."

Another replied, spitting out betel leaves.

"If you bend, bend, Ko Yin Chit San Nel, I don't want to bend either. I'm not used to guarding the Golden Palace, but I'm tired of coming and serving in this white-and-white iron hut, Twi."

Kyauk Lone also spat in response, and Chit San warned, "Watch your mouth, Ko Yin."

The stone continued to laugh loudly.

“Minister Yang Ko Yin Nay, I am talking about something that is not hot. . That English-owned Saint Barbe and his white-faced dogs, who are still left in Nay Pyi Taw after they ran away because they could not stand the wrath of the Monk?”

"It's okay, Korin, if you mix a little palm juice - the wind has grown, the words spoken by Saha and the North will be right and wrong, it's okay, I'll go on a day off, when the hour is up, Saha will wake up."

Chit San went inside the tent and the other two also got up. Only Kyaung Lone and her companion were left outside by the fire.

The stone said, lazily picking up a song.

"My dear mother...she didn't have mercy, so I added a golden child, the tide is rising, Thailand, with this rain and this wind."

"What about Thailand, Ko Rin, if you're going to visit this time, shouldn't it be Yangon or Hanthawaddy?"

His companion nodded, and the voice of love emerged from within.

"Korin, Korin, please keep your mouth shut," Kyauk Lone continued to speak without hesitation.

"Aye...yes, if you march this time, you will have to drive the white troops of Yangon, Hanthawaddy, and this Bengal city into the sea. My mother, she has no mercy, so I added a golden child."

"I added it...heh..heh."

The companion next to him gave a nod and lay down on the mat by the fire. Only the stone continued to sing, mumbling.

“Yangon, Hanthawaddy, with this rain and this wind, even if it means death, I will always be with you, I miss you so much.. I miss you so much”

Between the brick wall and the water tank, the two men nodded and cast their shadows. They could see no one else on the right. Inside the tent, there was only one stone, leaning against their side, enjoying himself.

Therefore, immediately after the next flash of lightning, the two of them quickly crossed over to the shadow of the iron tent, which was a few yards away.

The iron tent has long legs, so a person can stand comfortably from the bottom.

The man in the courtyard led the major to the southeast corner of this dark basement. When they reached a place, they stopped and the one who had led them climbed onto a small stool that seemed to have been prepared and used a long sword to separate the floor. Then, he spread his hands across the separated floor. A man opened a small opening.

"Major, don't sit on this chair, I'll climb up. I'll pull you up from above, then Major, climb up."

The major nodded in understanding. Soon, both of them were climbing up gracefully. "You're so smart, bloodthirsty bastard."

As soon as they reached the top floor, the colonel placed his hand on the shoulder of the person who had led them and praised them.

"This room is closest to the inner chamber of the Chief of Staff. No one is allowed to enter this side of the room except him and his assistants. Come on, Major, we'll go to the hotel."

The bloodsucker, who had been called the Great Bloodsucker, walked towards a nearby window as he spoke, and the Major followed him, stepping on his toes.

The room was airy, so the sound of the rain outside was barely audible.

The window they approached had a Chinese-style door, and a thick curtain was hanging from the inside. The light from the curtain was shining softly here. The bloodthirsty man slipped between the dagger and the Chinese-style door, and the curtain was slightly moved.

In the other room, large candles were lit by the colors.

On the floor of the other room, two large, thick, crimson French carpets were spread out in the center. At the entrance to the room, there was a large green velvet curtain. The white walls were hung with gold-plated candlesticks. Silver-plated rifles were also hung on the wall. In the center of the wall, to the left of those watching from the other room, there was a gold-plated painting of a tall, white man. At the bottom of the painting, two Western swords, called sabots, were brought out of the house and hung in a cross-shaped pattern.

Directly below the painting, two large, upholstered chairs are arranged side by side, and the two figures seated above them are of the greatest interest. The one on the right is the French monarch himself, dressed in a brown sheepskin coat with a goatee, a flowing moustache, a stern but smiling face. The one on his left is a Burmese man in his forties, wearing a tight silk shirt and a long, gold-colored shawl. The figure is tall and strong, and his posture is that of a man accustomed to command, giving the impression of a man who is feared and feared.

At this moment, the person was leaning forward slightly, still asking one of the two people who were sitting on the floor, each kneeling on a mat, something, so those watching from this side of the room couldn't see his face directly, but they could clearly see the large dragon tattooed on his neck.

The Major and the Blood Drinker were facing each other. They turned to look at each other. The Blood Drinker was examining his neck again, and his eyes fell on the Major's neck. The Major's neck also had a dragon on it.

"Is it you, the Secretary of the Navy?"

The Major's mouth whispered. The Blood Drinker was visibly shaken. At that moment, the Secretary sat up straight and saw his face clearly, and the Blood Drinker immediately felt a chill down his spine. The Secretary of the Boat was the highest and most difficult in the entire Golden Palace. As one of King Thibaw's most trusted generals, the Blood Drinker already knew that

The secretary began to speak, looking directly into the eyes of the chief minister. His voice was as sharp as a human voice.

"Know that I have come to your palace at such an untimely hour, and that what I am about to say must not be uttered in the open air. Before I open this important matter, I would like to ask you some questions. Please answer me honestly and truthfully, as befits a true and loyal ally, Ambassador."

When the secretary finished speaking, someone sitting on the carpet spoke again in French.

The bloodthirsty man pointed to the interpreter, who was thin, with bloodshot eyes, a crooked nose, and a high forehead.

"I don't want to be too suspicious of this man, Major. He often comes to Than Te, drinks wine. He also hangs out with Franciscans like Bon Vision."

The major nodded and listened intently to the conversation between the secretary and the French ambassador through the interpreter.

Haas replied, leaning forward slightly and bowing politely.

“I am very honored that the Secretary has come in person. In response to your question, Your Majesty knows that our Franciscans, despite the hostility of our neighboring country, England, paved the way for the benefit of the Golden King of Inwa, and I will answer all the questions you have. Please give me your order. I will answer everything I know and everything I have.”

The Secretary of the Navy's face became more determined, and he stared intently through the French ambassador's face, as if he were examining his mind, and asked a brief question.

"Is it true that M. Jules Ferry, the Minister of Foreign Affairs of our Republic, has been dismissed?"

"That's right, Secretary."

“In this case, the affairs of our two countries were discussed and worked out during the time of Im(r) Julius(r) Ferry. At this time, Im(r) Julius(r) Ferry is awaiting death in prison. Who will support our possible leaders?”

A faint smile appeared on Haas' face as he perceived the secretary's attitude, which was characterized by an oriental mindset and little knowledge of world affairs.

"There is no need to worry about this, I am not going to prison, I am not expecting death, I am not going to lose anything, it is just a change of government due to lack of support in parliament."

When the secretary heard Hart's reply through the interpreter, his expression darkened as if he did not understand. Then

"Why not imprison them? Why not eliminate the culprits? Your president is a weakling."

"He muttered to himself. Haas continued to explain.

“According to our country’s system of governance, even if the government changes, the new government must still abide by the international commitments of the previous government. So, even though Empress Julien Ferry is gone, France will continue to fulfill the promise it made to the Inwa Shwe Palace.”

"How do I present evidence?"

Hart glanced at the oriental court official, who seemed to trust no one.

The ship's secretary continued to give orders.

"You said this, all we know is that Lord Lyons, the British ambassador in Paris, was so insistent on the Queen's order to cancel the plan with France and Burma that even the Empress Julius Ferry had to give in a little, didn't you?"

"I can explain this very well. The true communications between Francis and Burma are kept secret, don't you think? It is also not true that Minister Ferry gave Lord Lyon a concession. Lord Lyon threatened that the British government would use force to prevent a military treaty between Francis and the Shwe Nandaw, so Minister Ferry replied as a political ploy that Francis would not give any military aid to the Shwe Nandaw. In any case, on the same day that this reply was made, Minister Ferry handed over to the Burmese embassy in Paris a notice of the plan to send arms and ammunition to the Yadanarbon capital via Tonkin, which I believe reached the Shwe Nandaw."

Hart stroked his beard and gently tilted his head forward as if asking for a favor from the secretary.

"It is true that the letter arrived. However, the plan to send arms and ammunition mentioned in the letter has not been implemented to this day."

"Let it be realized. At present, the situation we are facing in Tonkin is not over, nor is the war between the Chinese Emperor and our Anan Province extinguished. Even if these matters are over, Minister Ferri's letter will not be changed. Minister Ferri's government resigned last March. The fact that I arrived in the Yadanarbon capital this May, two months after the letter, to process the information contained in it, is sufficient proof that the French government has not changed its position regarding the Inwa Shwe Nan."

The secretary frowned, his brow furrowing in thought until his eyes fell on the two men on the carpet. The interpreter nodded involuntarily.

The secretary's face brightened again and he looked at Hart meaningfully.

"I am satisfied with this explanation. We will receive orders from the monk regarding what we need to do and report back soon."

The secretary of the ship stood up as soon as he finished speaking. However, the chief steward stopped him by standing up from his seat.

"Please, my lord, when the nobles of the Golden Palace arrive, I will entertain them. In the other room, delicious food and drink are prepared, along with the most medicinal wine that has recently arrived from Paris. Please come."

As he spoke, Hart himself opened the velvet curtain at the entrance and invited them to make way.

Soon the room was deserted and silent.