321: Chapter 321 The Royal Decree Issued, and the Fate of the Nation Changed Hands

The true substitution, a masterstroke of deception, was completed in the darkness and silence of the night.

"Rama" was placed on the sickbed and connected to life monitors—the data had long been adjusted by the supporting Death Soldiers to a reasonable range of "gradually improving but still requiring observation." He slowly "woke up" and opened his eyes, his gaze carrying just the right amount of fatigue, a hint of confusion, and the habitual majesty belonging to a King. He glanced around the room and, in a slightly raspy Thai, whispered to the "royal physician" waiting by the bed—who was actually a Death Soldier in disguise: "How long... have I been asleep? I feel... as if I’ve had a very long dream."

The voice and tone were identical to those of the true King.

"Your Majesty, you are simply too tired. Please rest in peace," the "royal physician" replied respectfully, a flicker of confirmation passing through his eyes that only those of his kind could understand.

Outside the window, the night in Bangkok remained deep. No one knew that the highest symbol of this city had quietly changed hands.

Phnom Penh, the peace talks venue.

The atmosphere of the morning session was even more stagnant than in previous days. Phanu, the head of the Thailand delegation, had bloodshot eyes, clearly having spent another sleepless night. The coffee in front of him had gone cold, and his fingertips unconsciously tapped the table, betraying his inner anxiety. Last night, he had again received a secret telegram from Bangkok. The Lord Chamberlain had informed him in an extremely heavy tone that His Majesty's condition had suffered a "relapse," and the medical team advised avoiding any news that might stimulate him. Meanwhile, the domestic political undercurrents were "exceptionally complex," and the accidental deaths of two high-ranking ministers had sparked various speculations. The delegation was requested to "ensure substantial progress is made as soon as possible to stabilize the situation."

This meant that Bangkok could no longer provide any new negotiating chips or hardline instructions; instead, they hoped the delegation would find their own way to end this disaster "with dignity." Phanu felt a deep sense of powerlessness and humiliation.

On the other side, Li Lanzhi was calm and composed. She didn't even look much at the documents, merely watching Phanu quietly, as if waiting for him to speak first. This silent pressure was harder to bear than any sharp words.

Just as Phanu was bracing himself to try once more to haggle over some minor clauses to stall for time or win a small concession, an assistant behind him responsible for emergency contact with Bangkok rushed to his side, stumbling. He thrust a dedicated secure tablet into Phanu's hands, his face pale with excitement, and whispered urgently in his ear: "Deputy Prime Minister! The Grand Palace... His Majesty... has a new decree! It was sent directly to the delegation!"

Phanu's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly looked down.

On the screen was an electronic decree stamped with the Royal Seal and signed by the King's private secretary. The format was rigorous, and the wording was archaic and solemn. The core content was crystal clear:

"I have been recuperating recently and am deeply concerned. The nation has suffered the scourge of war, the people have endured the hardships of displacement, and the economy faces the peril of instability; these weigh heavily upon my heart. In this hour of national crisis, peace and stability are the paramount tasks above all else. I hereby command the government and the ministers negotiating on the front lines to make the early realization of lasting peace and the restoration of the people's livelihood their primary objectives. You are to assess the situation, demonstrate the necessary flexibility and foresight, and strive to reach an agreement that serves the long-term fundamental interests of the nation. The tranquility of the state and the well-being of the people depend upon your diligent efforts. By Royal Decree."

Below the decree, there was a small note: "This decree was dictated by His Majesty. The royal physicians have confirmed that His Majesty's spirit is sufficient to support this. It is issued specifically to settle national affairs."

Phanu's hands began to tremble violently, almost unable to hold the tablet. The direction of this decree was too clear! "Peace and stability above all," "demonstrate flexibility," "align with long-term fundamental interests"... it was almost a direct instruction for them to abandon those unrealistic persistences and accept an agreement that, though humiliating, could quickly end the war! This was the highest instruction issued personally by the King from his sickbed!

He looked up sharply at Li Lanzhi and found that she seemed to have expected this; a faint, almost imperceptible trace of realization even flickered at the corner of her mouth. Could it be... they could even influence His Majesty? This terrifying thought made Phanu feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar. But at this moment, the decree was as absolute as a mountain; he had no courage or reason to disobey. This was no longer pressure from the government or the military; this was the will directly handed down by the Royal Power.

Li Lanzhi spoke at just the right moment, breaking the silence: "Deputy Prime Minister Phanu, it seems that within your country, a supreme consensus has been formed regarding the early termination of this unfortunate conflict. Our side has always held the greatest sincerity, hoping to see peace arrive. Is your side ready to complete the final text confirmation based on the reasonable conditions proposed by our side?"

Phanu opened his mouth, his throat dry. In the end, all the reluctance, struggle, and humiliation turned into a long, heavy sigh. He seemed to be drained of all strength in an instant, saying despondently: "Our side... accepts the five basic conditions proposed by your side as the negotiation framework. Please conduct final consultations with our personnel on specific wording, the compensation payment schedule, the demilitarized zone monitoring mechanism, and other details."

The venue erupted in an uproar. Journalists recorded frantically, and observers exchanged shocked glances. Thailand had, after all, completely yielded.

The subsequent negotiation process was surprisingly fast. Having lost the will to resist, the Thailand delegation was almost mechanically cooperating with the Myanmar side to finalize the treaty text. Li Lanzhi did not budge an inch on the core clauses, only showing so-called "flexibility" on some inconsequential procedural and phrasing details.

Forty-eight hours later, the Phnom Penh Peace and Good-Neighborliness Treaty was officially signed.

The content of the treaty almost entirely reflected Myanmar's five demands: a formal written apology from the Thai side (signed by Prime Minister Srettha and approved by the King); astronomical war reparations to be paid over twenty years; the establishment of a joint investigation committee to hold war criminals accountable (with the list provided by Myanmar); a 20-kilometer demilitarized zone based on the current line of actual control, monitored by an ASEAN Observation Mission; and a commitment from Thailand to limit the scale of offensive military cooperation with "specific extra-regional powers" (unnamed, but understood by all). Additionally, the treaty included a supplementary clause: "To promote lasting peace and common prosperity between the two countries, both sides agree to establish a special friendly relationship and strengthen all-around cooperation in fields such as economy, infrastructure construction, and cultural exchange."

When news of the peace treaty's signing reached Thailand, there was a public outcry, but it was mostly characterized by post-defeat numbness and a sense of relief. Anti-war protests gradually subsided, replaced by worries about economic hardship and future uncertainty. The hardline factions, already leaderless after the "accidental" deaths of Tan Long, Songki, and others, were now completely crushed by this humiliating peace treaty "endorsed" by the King's decree, making it difficult to organize any effective resistance.

One week after the treaty was signed, Grand Palace, Bangkok.

The "recovering" King of Thailand, "Rama X," under the "careful recommendation" of the royal medical team, delivered a brief recorded speech for the first time through the National Television Station in an elegantly decorated side hall of the palace. In the footage, the "King" was dressed in a traditional Thai silk shirt; his face was still pale, but his gaze was calm, and his voice was slow and clear: