The expeditionary force began to dominate Southeast Asia by recruiting defeated soldiers

Chapter 491: One of the golden Buddha statues on a jade throne is over one foot tall and is said to

He paused, tilted his head, and gave Luang Phibun a meaningful look. "So, as subordinates, we must understand the principle of 'asking for instructions more often and reporting more often.' We must always let our leaders understand our thoughts and...sincerity."

Hao Yi thought: "You are stupid, I asked you to ask for instructions and report, and you just asked for instructions and reported? Why didn't you send some gifts or something? At least get some Siamese women, gold, silver and jewelry or something."

Luan Pibun was stunned: "More requests? More reports? Haven't I already..."

He suddenly saw the gleam of "you know" in Hao Yi's eyes, and when he thought of those unspoken rules, he suddenly understood.

He secretly cursed himself for being stupid. He had to let Lord Zhang Chi feel Siam’s “enthusiasm” and “good intentions”.

He immediately put on a flattering smile, moved closer to Hao Yi, and spoke in a lower voice:

"General Hao reminded me that I had neglected it. You see... although Siam is a small country, it has a long and rich culture and a lot of wealth.

For example, there is a statue that is said to be a national treasure collected by a Siamese king many years ago - a pure gold eight-faced Buddha statue that is more than one meter tall.

"It is cast entirely from gold, with a majestic appearance and unparalleled efficacy. It symbolizes good fortune, wealth, and power. Do you think...is it suitable for His Excellency Zhang Chi?"

"Eight-Faced Buddha?" Hao Yi raised his eyebrows, becoming interested. "What's so special about it?"

Luang Phibun quickly explained:

"General, you may not know that this eight-faced Buddha was not created in Siam.

Legend has it that it originated from the ancient Funan Kingdom, later spread to Zhenla, and finally obtained by our ancestors.

This Buddha has eight faces, symbolizing his care for the eight directions of the world, fulfilling the various wishes of all beings. One face prays for peace, one prays for wealth, one prays for wisdom, one prays for offspring...

In short, the divine power is vast and will grant whatever you ask for. It is truly a priceless treasure."

After hearing this, Hao Yi couldn't help but smile.

Wow, a pure gold Buddha statue that's over a meter tall? And it's so versatile and responsive?

This thing is quite practical. In the eyes of a rough man like him, it is much better than giving calligraphy, paintings or antiques.

He patted Luang Phibun's shoulder and chuckled, "Okay, Prime Minister, that's interesting. This gift... is quite substantial. But..."

He changed the subject and held up a finger. "Just one Buddha statue makes Siam seem a bit... thin, doesn't it? Think about it again. Add a couple of substantial pieces that reflect Siam's characteristics and cultural heritage, not those fancy ones."

Luang Phibun understood what he meant, and although he felt pained, he nodded without hesitation:

"Understood, understood, General Hao, don't worry. In addition to the eight-faced golden Buddha, I will also add several national treasure-level jade carvings, plus a complete set of imperial gold artifacts passed down from ancient times. I guarantee that Your Excellency Zhang Chi will feel our Siam's sincerity."

"That's right." Hao Yi nodded with satisfaction, looking at the stage where the ceremony was nearing its end and Zhang Chi was waving to the people in the square.

"After the ceremony, take your things... well, keep a low profile. I'll make arrangements for you to go to General Zhang's hotel tonight to 'report on your work.' Remember, I've created this opportunity for you; how you 'report' is up to you."

-----

After accepting the golden scepter symbolizing the supreme military command of Siam, Zhang Chi did not stay at the ceremony for too long.

Amidst thunderous cheers and complicated gazes, he boarded a special car and returned to the Oriental Hotel where he was staying - a luxurious landmark standing on the banks of the Chao Phraya River, run by the Swiss and known as the "Pearl of the Far East".

At this time, the Oriental Hotel was already shrouded in a solemn and murderous atmosphere.

The elite guards of the Anmin Army set up a guard post every three steps and a sentry every five steps, surrounding the hotel tightly.

The Nanyang Central Intelligence Agency agents and Internal Security Department officers, dressed in casual clothes but with sharp eyes, are like invisible spider webs, infiltrating every corner of the hotel and monitoring any slight movement.

Pushing open the heavy teak door of the top-floor presidential suite, a warm breeze mixed with rich floral fragrance and the scent of cosmetics hits you in the face.

Zhang Chi paused and frowned slightly.

In the spacious living room of the suite, five or six young women with slim figures and pretty faces, dressed in exquisite traditional Siamese costumes - "Chakri" tube skirts with gold-embroidered tops, were sitting or standing, their eyes moving.

The moment the door opened, the girls all focused their eyes on him with carefully controlled shyness and passion.

Zhang Chi took a step back, closed the door, and said to Secretary Liu behind him, "Don't give me surprises like this again. I'm not interested in them in broad daylight."

An hour later, Zhang Chi, having washed off all the vanity and fatigue and put on a comfortable velvet robe, was half lying on a lounge chair in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window facing the Chao Phraya River, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility.

The golden glow of the setting sun shines on the river, making the waves sparkle, and the golden roof of the temple in the distance shines brightly.

Just as he was beginning to doze off, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open and Phibun appeared at the door.

This "strong man" who was once ambitious and tried to lead Siam out of the shadow of Western colonialism now had an expression of fatigue that was difficult to conceal and a deliberately maintained respect on his face.

"Your Excellency the Marshal." Luan Phibun bowed slightly and greeted in broken Mandarin.

He quickly scanned the room and saw that only Zhang Chi was there, and seemed to be slightly relieved.

"Please sit down, Prime Minister."

The atmosphere is subtle and solemn.

Luan Phibun picked up the exquisite bone china teacup, but did not drink it. His eyes fell on the steam rising from the rim of the cup, as if he was organizing his words.

Luang Phibun looked at the uncrowned king of Nanyang, who was seventeen years younger than him, and his heart was in turmoil.

It was a complex emotion mixed with envy, resentment, bitterness and even a hint of jealousy.

Luang Phibun was once a young military officer who was keen on reform. He also dreamed of enriching the country and strengthening the army and restoring the glory of Siam.

To this end, he did not hesitate to survive in the cracks, and even chose to ally with the Japanese at one point in an attempt to use their strength to fight against them.

However, fate played a trick on him. Despite his painstaking efforts for half his life, Siam remained weak, and he himself, in the midst of the great changes of the times, had no choice but to bow down to the much younger "Alexander" before him.

Zhang Chi's career was at its peak, he commanded a large army and expanded the territory, while his father, Luang Phibun, had entered middle age, his ambitions unfulfilled, and was imprisoned (although he was still the prime minister in name).

How could this kind of contrast not make him feel upset?

"Your Excellency, thank you for your respect for Siam's sovereignty and your trust in... me personally." After saying this, Phibun himself felt a little bitter.

"This is based on the choice of the Siamese people and our consensus on future cooperation." Zhang Chi responded lightly, with a double entendre.