Chapter 546: Four‑Person Meeting

The meeting room was small, about forty square meters. In the center stood a dark oak round table, surrounded by four high‑back chairs. The walls had no decoration, only a Meilika flag and a Lanfang flag hung side by side. One side of the room had a small window, and through the bullet‑proof glass one could see the treetops outside.

Wilson was dressed today in a dark‑gray three‑piece suit, his shirt collar fastened meticulously. He looked slimmer than in photographs, his eye sockets sunken, yet his gaze remained sharp, and through his round‑frame glasses a scholarly scrutinizing air emerged.

"Mr. Chen Feng," Wilson extended his hand, "welcome. Thank you for coming from so far away."

They shook hands. Chen Feng could feel the temperature and pressure of the other's palm—neither cold nor warm, just right.

"Mr. President, thank you for taking time out of such a busy schedule. It is an honor for me and Lanfang to have the opportunity to converse with you."

A standard diplomatic opening, but Chen Feng's tone was sincere.

Both sides took their seats. Wilson and Secretary of State Lansing sat on one side, Chen Feng and Wang Wenwu sat opposite. Lieutenant General Rodman did not sit; he stepped back to the doorway, nodded at the operative, and then the door was gently closed.

Only four people remained in the room.

Lansing spoke first, his voice steady and professional: "As per protocol, we need to confirm that today's discussion will not be recorded. Unless both parties agree otherwise, the content of this meeting will not appear in any official documents."

"We agree," Chen Feng signaled to Wang Wenwu, who placed a recording device on the table—unpowered, merely displayed, "to show goodwill, we will not record either."

Wilson nodded slightly: "Then, let us begin. Mr. Chen, first allow me to express my admiration for Lanfang's achievements over the past decade or so. A newly emerging nation, in such a short time, has built a complete industrial system and developed a world‑class navy; that is almost unbelievable."

The opening flattery was also a test.

Chen Feng smiled in reply: "Mr. President, you overpraise us. Lanfang's development owes much to an open international environment and the exchange of advanced technology. Especially in finance and markets, there is still much we can learn from Meilika."

"You are too modest," Wilson adjusted his glasses, "I have read reports on Lanfang's economy; your industrial output growth rate, even spurred by wartime demand, is astonishing. More importantly, you have built a… supply chain independent of the European system."

The topic began to deepen.

"Independence is for security," Chen Feng admitted calmly, "As a newly emerging nation, we cannot afford to tie our economic lifeline entirely to others' hands. But that does not mean closure; on the contrary, Lanfang maintains active trade relations with all countries, including Meilika."

"Including selling weapons to both warring sides?" Lansing interjected, his tone still calm but the question sharp.

The air in the room seemed to solidify for a moment.

Chen Feng did not evade; he looked straight at Lansing: "Secretary of State, according to international law and the rights of neutral nations, any country has the right to trade with belligerents, including arms trade. Meilika also supplies the Allies with large quantities of material and loans, does it not?"

"We do not provide weapons directly," Wilson replied.

"But the steel, oil, and chemical products we provide eventually become weapons," Chen Feng's answer remained calm, "Mr. President, on this issue Meilika's and Lanfang's positions are essentially the same—we both do business with the warring nations; the difference lies only in the final form of the products."

He paused briefly, letting the sentence settle.

"Moreover, if we discuss moral issues, then everyone who profits from war—bankers, factory owners, merchants, including workers whose jobs are preserved by war contracts—stand before the same mirror. Before blaming others, perhaps we should first look at ourselves."

Wilson fell silent. His fingers on the table tapped lightly, a habitual motion when he thought.

Lansing tried to regain the initiative: "Mr. Chen, we understand the logic of commerce. But the purpose of today's meeting is not to discuss trade issues, but to discuss this war and its impact on the world's future."

"That is exactly what I want to talk about," Chen Feng leaned forward, "Mr. President, Secretary of State, let us set aside the superficial and discuss the substantive. What are Meilika's interests in this war? What are Lanfang's interests? Could the two possibly… find common ground?"

Wilson removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with a cloth. The gesture gave him a few seconds to think.

"Mr. Chen, you ask about Meilika's interests. I would say first there are moral interests—supporting democratic nations against authoritarian empires, protecting weak countries from aggression, upholding international law and the basic principles of human civilization."

A very standard answer, consistent with his usual public statements.

Chen Feng nodded, but his gaze held no agreement: "Mr. President, I respect your ideals. But allow me a direct question: if Deguo were a democratic republic, and Faguo and Yingguo were monarchic authoritarian states, would Meilika still support the Allies?"

Wilson was stunned. The question was too sharp, too real.

Lansing wanted to speak, but Chen Feng continued: "I am not questioning Meilika's moral stance. I am merely saying that in international politics, ideology often serves as a veneer for interests. During the 1870 Franco‑Prussian War, Yingguo did not support France against Deguo's monarchy simply because France was a republic. Why? Because at that time Germany's rise had not yet threatened Yingguo's interests."

He paused, observing the two's reactions.

"Today's situation is the same. If Meilika truly cared only about democracy, why not react more strongly to the mass killing of Armenians within the Osman Diguo, or condemn colonialism itself? Because that is not Meilika's core interest."

"You are denying all moral considerations," Wilson's voice was somewhat cold.

"No, I am distinguishing what is genuine morality from what is disguised interest," Chen Feng's tone remained calm, "True morality is universal—protecting civilians, respecting life, obeying international law. But when we define a war with a framework like 'democracy versus authoritarianism,' we have moved beyond pure moral territory into the realm of geopolitics."

Wang Wenwu interjected at the right moment, serving as translator and supplement: "Mr. President, Secretary of State, allow me to cite a concrete example. Regarding Deguo's so‑called 'atrocities' in Bilishi—"

"It is not 'so‑called'; it is factual," Lansing interrupted.

"—a fact that is contested," Wang Wenwu insisted, finishing, "Bilishi civilians indeed suffered hardship in the early war, and civilian casualties occurred amid the crossfire—this is tragic. But Yingguo's propaganda machine magnified isolated incidents into systematic mass killings, portraying inevitable battlefield collateral damage as deliberate murder; this is using moral sentiment to serve political ends."

He took several documents from his briefcase and pushed them onto the center of the table.