I have received your message. After unanimous discussion by the French Cabinet, it has now been decided to give you the right to deploy the Mediterranean Fleet at any time. You can send the port of Marseille to reinforce the Mediterranean fleet off Naples if you think the negotiations are close to breaking down. It was used to ensure the safety of the Ottoman Empire.

Remember! It is necessary to delay the war as long as possible, leaving plenty of time for the French intervention to prepare!!!

Emperor Jérôme of the French Empire. Bonaparte.

After reading the message, Valevsky felt an inexplicable pressure, and the source of the pressure was the message in his hand, which was only half the size of a piece of paper.

Although the content of the telegram seems to have transferred the use of a few warships to his command, behind the warships is a country's strategic focus for the next few years.

Once France entered the country, a war around the Near East was inevitable.

Hundreds of thousands of people were fighting, and the fate of both countries was pressed on Valewski's shoulders at this moment.

For a moment, Walewski didn't know whether he should thank his cousin, who was far away, or whether he should throw his size 40 boots in his cousin's face through the teleportation. Although the latter is basically only realized in Valewski's own dreams, and during the day.

In short, the burden on Valewski is undoubtedly heavier.

Thinking of this, Valevsky couldn't help but shake his head and sighed to himself: "The situation in the Near East is really getting more and more dangerous!" ”

Then Valewski glanced at the telegraph operator again. The two men sitting at the transmitter were silent like two emotionless machines, and there was no emotion on their faces.

To the two dispatchers in front of him, whom he had personally recruited, Valevsky nodded with satisfaction.

As the dispatchers responsible for the transmission of confidential documents, they must maintain a high level of confidentiality and loyalty.

A silent dispatcher lives far longer than a loud-mouthed dispatcher who has nothing to do all day.

"That's it! It's time for you to go back and rest! "Valewski gave the order to rest.

"Yes!" The two reporters got up in response to Walewski's remarks and left the newspaper room.

Looking at the figures of the two dispatchers leaving, Valevsky nodded with more satisfaction.

Walewski did not know that the two dispatchers in front of him, who seemed to have been recruited "personally", were actually personnel of the Foreign Intelligence Service of the National Intelligence Service.

With the exception of embassies in the Far East, the vast majority of embassies are under the watchful eye of the National Intelligence Service.

However, the vast majority of these people are also only peripheral personnel, they do not know about the Foreign Intelligence Service and the National Intelligence Service, they only know that they are working for the police department.

This kind of leather sleeve can be said to be ahead of its time in the 19th century, when the espionage system was not developed. It is effective in protecting the structure of the National Intelligence Service from detection, and the more inconspicuous the intelligence organization, the more energy it can generate.

Only those core personnel are the existence of the real National Intelligence Service, and these guys are often very hidden.

Walevsky apparently did not realize that his embassy had been infiltrated into a sieve by the National Intelligence Service, and he was still rejoicing that he had been able to recruit good messengers.

Shortly after Valewski slowly and leisurely closed the door to the telegraph room with a kerosene lamp in his big belly, a sneaky figure cautiously crept against the wall.

There was only a small sound in the silent corridor, and in the darkness of the night, it cautiously came to the door of the telegraph room, and gently pushed open the door of the telegraph room.

The door made a slight "click" sound as the shadow pushed it forward, and after the door opened a gap for only one person to pass through, the shadow crept into the telegraph room.

The dark shadow that entered the telegraph room seemed to be familiar with the road, and arrived at the table in the telegraph room without touching any obstacles.

After some careful fumbling, the shadow finally found the note that Valewski had placed on the table.

The black shadow was immediately ecstatic, and it took out a box of yellow phosphorus matches and candles from its arms

The flame created by the yellow phosphorus match gently slicing through the phosphorus surface is lit as soon as it comes into contact with the candle.

With the help of the candlelight, the black shadow saw the contents of the note, and the black shadow who roughly saw the contents of the note put the note back in place, and then gently blew out the candle and left the telegraph room.

The dark shadow who reopened the gate thought he was safe, but he didn't notice a single strand of hair that had fallen to the ground.

And this strand of hair is exactly the same color as the hair on Valewski's head.

Early the next morning, Valewski, who had gotten out of bed early, pulled back the curtains and looked out the window at Constantinople.

In the 19th century, Constantinople was full of onion-headed buildings, and most of the men who came and went through the streets were dressed in white coats, some with a headscarf wrapped around their heads.

Women, on the other hand, wrap their whole bodies, leaving only a pair of pitch-black eyes, and they can't see whether they are fairies or dinosaurs under the veil.

Of course, Constantinople also had a group of men in suits, most of whom were merchants who traveled between Constantinople and the rest of Europe, and some of them were members of other ethnic groups living in Constantinople.

Through these three months of observation, Valewski discovered the decay of the city, which does not mean superficial decay, but decay on a spiritual level.

Even the Tanzimat reforms were nothing more than a veneer of whitewash over the rotten shell. Nothing has changed at all in this city, and indeed in the core of the country.

Eventually, Valewski also came to a conclusion.

If the Ottoman Empire did not change the core of this mixed feudal system of bureaucracy + clergy + guard, nothing could have changed at all.

All the reforms of the Ottoman Empire so far have been nothing more than a reluctant continuation of their decaying bodies.

If the empire had been in danger of destruction in the 18th century, it would have been much better.

The French Empire was only trying to maintain the reluctant functioning of the empire for its own benefit.

Looking condescendingly at the embassy road, Valevsky sighed again.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Who?" Valewski turned and shouted out the door.

"Your Excellency, it's time to eat!" The voice of the chargé d'affaires came from outside the door.

"Got it!"

When Walewski heard the shouting, he immediately opened the door and went downstairs to eat, and when he passed by the telegraph room, he found that the door of the telegraph room was still tightly closed.

Walevsky, who came to the embassy's dining room while eating breakfast and reading the newspaper, asked casually: "No one should have been in the telegraph room last night!" ”

When Valevsky finished asking, he heard a "snap" coming from the opposite side of Valewski.

Valevsky looked up slightly, and found the chargé d'affaires military attache sitting opposite him spilling milk on the table.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't hold it steady just now!" The attendant attache said awkwardly to Valewski.

"Nothing! Just pay attention next time! Valevsky asked for a new one of the servants in the embassy.

The servant hurriedly wiped the milk dry, and then helped the chargé d'affaires to change a glass of milk.

Having eaten and drunk, Walewski returned to the telegraph room again, and when he pushed open the door of the telegraph room, he found that the hair that had been caught in the door of the telegraph room last night had fallen out of nowhere, and he crouched down and picked it up.

Then he looked into the interior of the telegraph room, and no one had touched the entire telegraph room, and it seemed that the "thieves" were not here to steal.

Immediately, Valevsky went to the telegraph and gently picked it up, and he found that his short hair, which he had placed under the telegraph, was also missing.

It seemed that the thief's purpose was the contents of the telegraph, and a smile appeared on Valewski's lips.

And pinching it in his hand, the content of the newspaper has also changed somewhat compared with the original version.

The second line after the word "remember" was completely deleted, and the entire core of the telegram was immediately composed of a compromise message that was mainly delayed, supplemented by war.

It turned into a declaration of war for the Ottoman Empire at all costs.

And all this that Valevsky did was to confuse the minds of certain countries.

Another 4 days passed, on March 12th.

The day began in the morning, and the sky was covered with dark clouds.

Under the black oppressive sky, seagulls can be clearly seen passing by at low altitude.

Around 10 o'clock in the morning, a flash of lightning shuttled through the clouds, followed by a spring thunder and torrential rain that resounded throughout Constantinople.

It was as if God had opened a gap in the sky over Constantinople and poured down the water for washing his own feet, and it was pouring rain.

The sudden rainstorm caused pedestrians to hide under their roofs and wait for the rain to slow down.

Fiercely, the raindrops hit the glass of the embassy, making a "crackling" sound.

Valewski, who was standing in front of the window lattice, looked at the torrential rain outside the window and shook his head unconsciously.

It's raining heavily at this time, and I really don't know if it's a coincidence or an intentional arrangement.

The torrential rain continued to fall for almost an hour before it gradually subsided, and then another hour later, the downpour turned to a drizzle.

At this time, the low-lying streets of Constantinople were filled with water, and the crowd of people who had taken refuge in the rainstorm splashed half a leg high.

It was in the midst of this hazy drizzle that a steam cruise came from afar and sailed towards the port of Constantinople.

The commander in charge of piloting the warship was the Chief of Staff of the Black Sea Fleet, Vladimir. Vice Admiral Kornilov, and the "passenger" of the cruiser was Admiral Menshikov, Russia's "Plenipotentiary Envoy for War and Peace" on his shoulders.

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