Chapter 548: After the Meeting

"This is realism," Chen Feng corrected, "Mr. President, I'm not suggesting Meilika remain completely hands‑off. Continuing to lend money to Yingguo, selling supplies—that's fine. It aligns with commercial interests and can affect the war. But getting directly involved? Deploying troops? That's an entirely different nature."

He leaned forward, making his final argument.

"Let me speak from Lanfang's perspective. Why does Lanfang want the war to continue but not expand? Because we need time. We need time to complete industrial transformation, to train more engineers and technicians, to let our products build a reputation in the international market. A war that ends abruptly would be an economic disaster for us."

"And Meilika? Meilika needs time for New York to fully replace London, time for the dollar to become the world currency, time for Meilika's corporations to dominate the global market. A war that ends abruptly—whether Deguo wins or the Allies win—would disrupt that process."

"So our interests align on this point," Chen Feng concluded, "Let the Europeans keep fighting, fight to exhaustion, fight until they have to sit down and negotiate. Then Meilika and Lanfang, as the two most powerful industrial nations, can jointly steer the post‑war order reconstruction. We can set new trade rules, a new financial system, a new international organization—a new world defined by us."

Vision. He offered a grand vision.

Wilson inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. He readjusted his glasses and, through the lenses, looked at Chen Feng, his gaze complex.

"Mr. Chen, you have painted a... very attractive picture. Meilika wins world leadership without bloodshed, Lanfang gains time and space to develop, Europe rebuilds after depletion. In theory, this is the best outcome for everyone."

"In theory?" Wang Wenwu asked.

"But reality is always more complicated," Wilson stood, walked to the window, back to the room, "Yingguo will not stand by. They will use every means to pull Meilika into the war. Faguo is on the brink of collapse; without Meilika's direct intervention, they may not survive past next spring. Russia... only God knows what Russia will do. If Deguo truly occupies Paris, that would be a disaster for civilization."

"Paris will not be occupied," Chen Feng also stood, walked to Wilson's side, and beside him looked out the window, "The Deguo people have also reached their limit. Their resources are nearly exhausted, the populace is starving, the army is exhausted. This war has reached a stalemate; neither side can fully conquer the other."

"Are you sure?"

"I am certain," Chen Feng said with absolute confidence, "Mr. President, my contacts are on both sides in Europe. I know the internal assessment of Deguo's General Staff, and I know the true state of Faguo's military. This war can last at most another year, after which both sides will be forced to negotiate. The only issue is the terms of negotiation."

He turned to Wilson: "And the conditions of the peace talks can be influenced by countries not on the battlefield. If Meilika and Lanfang speak together, presenting a reasonable peace framework—a proposal that lets both sides retain dignity and accept it—then the war could end through negotiation rather than one side's total collapse."

Wilson turned, staring into Chen Feng's eyes, "Do you really believe this is possible?"

"I believe the power of interest outweighs the power of hatred," Chen Feng replied, "When the cost of continuing the war exceeds any possible gain, reason will return. What we must do is bring that moment sooner—through diplomacy, through economic pressure, through all non‑military means."

The two stood by the window, sunlight streaming in from outside, casting long shadows on the floor.

Lansing and Wang Wenwu sat at the table, not interrupting the conversation.

After a long while, Wilson lightly nodded, "I need time to think, Mr. Chen. Many of the points you raised... I hadn't considered before, or rather, hadn't been willing to consider. But as a scholar, I must admit your logic is rigorous."

"Thinking is wise," Chen Feng smiled, "but time waits for no one. Yingguo is intensifying lobbying, Deguo's submarine warfare may escalate, Faguo's situation worsens daily. Each day of delay reduces the chance of peace by a point."

"I understand," Wilson walked back to the table, glanced at his pocket watch, "Today's meeting ran over the scheduled time. But I think it was worth it."

He extended his hand, "Mr. Chen, thank you for your candor. I will seriously consider everything you said. We can continue the discussion tomorrow, perhaps on a smaller scale."

They shook hands. This time, Wilson's grip was a little stronger than before.

"Looking forward to tomorrow's exchange," Chen Feng said.

As they left the meeting room, Lieutenant General Rodman waited outside the door. He saw Wilson's expression, asked nothing, and simply nodded to Chen Feng, "The car is ready."

In the car returning to the villa, Wang Wenwu finally relaxed and let out a long sigh.

"How was it?" Chen Feng asked.

"More... smooth than expected," Wang Wenwu chose his words carefully, "Wilson wavered; I could feel it. But he still has many concerns."

"That's normal. He carries a nation's expectations and can't change stance lightly. But the seed has already been planted," Chen Feng said, watching the scenery flash by outside, "The key is what follows. If Yingguo doesn't make small moves, if Deguo people don't act foolishly, perhaps we truly have hope."

"How likely do you think it is?"

"Thirty percent," Chen Feng answered frankly, "In international politics, thirty percent is already a high probability."

The car entered the villa district. As they got out, Chen Feng noticed several plainclothes agents nearby—American security had been reinforced.

Inside the room, Wang Wenwu immediately began organizing today's conversation notes. Chen Feng walked to the window, watching the outside scenery.

His thoughts drifted far away.

In today's conversation, he did not reveal the whole truth. For instance, he knew the historical trajectory—if there were no intervention, the United States would enter the war in a few months, the war would last another year and a half, and then end with Deguo's collapse. Then an unjust Versailles treaty, followed by a twenty‑year armistice, then an even more devastating Second World War.

He tried to change all of this. Not to save Deguo, nor to help Yingguo, but for a simpler goal: to give Lanfang time to develop, to prevent the world from being dragged into a deeper abyss.

But history has its inertia. The groups that gained huge benefits from the war—arms dealers, bankers, colonial officials—they will fight desperately to keep the war going. The masses stirred up by propaganda are hard to persuade with reason. Those who lost loved ones on the battlefield find it hard to forgive the enemy.