Chapter 563: Lanfang's War Machine

Wilson looks out at Washington. The city is about to witness a historic decision—Meilika has abandoned isolationism, moving toward the center of the world stage. But the cost is being drawn into the bloodiest war in human history.

He recalls his academic career, recalling the years teaching at Princeton University. At that time he believed in reason, in dialogue, in humanity solving differences through wisdom and goodwill.

Now he knows some differences are too deep, some interests too great, some hatreds too long, so reason and goodwill appear pale and powerless.

"Amend the address," he finally says, his voice regaining presidential resolve, "add a paragraph: the purpose of Meilika Entry into War is not conquest, not revenge, but for a just and lasting peace. We must make clear that the war's goal is to bring Deguo back to the negotiating table, not to utterly destroy Deguo."

"Congress may not agree…" Beck reminds.

"Then persuade them," Wilson says, "if we must bleed, at least bleed for a worthy goal. A forever peaceful Europe, not a Europe nourished by endless revenge."

He picks up the pen and marks the draft address.

"Also, notify General Rodman to strengthen the Pacific fleet's construction. If the war truly expands, we need sufficient force there as well. But for now do not provoke Lanfang, keep the communication channels open."

"Do you think Lanfang will really become our enemy?" Lansing asks.

"I do not wish that," Wilson says, "but if they truly choose that path… we must be prepared. At the same time, we must give them a reason not to choose that path."

He puts down the pen, walks to the window, and looks at the White House's south lawn. Winter has not passed; the grass is withered, the trees are bare, but on close inspection some branches already sprout tiny buds.

Spring will always come, no matter how cold the winter. Peace will also eventually arrive, no matter how brutal the war.

The question is, before spring arrives, how many lives will wither? Before peace arrives, how much blood will flow?

"Prepare the speech draft," Wilson finally says, "the day after tomorrow I will face Congress and the Meilika people. Tell them the truth: war is hell, but sometimes we must pass through hell to reach the other shore."

After Lansing and Beck leave, Wilson stands alone in his office. He pulls a photograph from the drawer—a family portrait taken in 1912 after his election, in front of the White House. His wife Edith smiles, their three daughters are still girls, the sun shines brightly, the future seems infinitely beautiful.

Five years pass, the world turns upside down. And now, he is about to lead this nation into the storm.

"God," he whispers in prayer, "grant me strength, grant me wisdom, and most importantly, grant me a moral compass that does not lose its direction. Let me remember why we fight, and what we fight for."

Sunlight shifts, illuminating the open Bible on his desk. The opened page is Matthew chapter five: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God."

Peacemakers. How ironic, a man about to announce participation in war reading verses about peace.

Yet perhaps not ironic. Perhaps true, for a lasting peace, war must sometimes be endured.

Wilson closes the Bible, picks up the phone: "Connect to the speech‑writing team. I have some ideas now."

Outside, Washington begins a new day. And on the other side of the world, dawn has not yet come, darkness still continues.

But no matter how long the darkness, dawn will eventually arrive.

The only question is, what kind of world will dawn illuminate?

Dubai, the presidential underground command center, "Leopard Room."

In the massive oval operations room, more than twenty displays light up simultaneously, showing different information: troop deployments on the world map, industrial production data, naval vessel positions, air force training progress. On the central holographic sand table, the terrain of the Pacific and Indian Oceans is rendered in three dimensions, densely marked with the movements of each nation's fleets.

Chen Feng stands before the sand table, holding a laser pointer. Behind him, core members Liu Yongfu, Li Te, Zhou Tieshan and others are all present. Wang Wenwu stands at the side control console, ready to record.

"Everyone understands the situation," Chen Feng's voice echoes in the quiet operations room, "Meilika Entry into War is now a fait accompli, the world war will expand from Europe to the globe. Lanfang stands at a crossroads and must make a choice."

The laser pointer's red dot roams over the sand table.

"Our choice is not 'whether to join the war', but 'how to protect our interests without joining'," Chen Feng continues, "to achieve this we need three things: first, enough power to make anyone think twice before acting against us; second, flexible diplomacy to keep balance among parties; third, a clear bottom line so everyone knows the cost of crossing it."

He turns to Liu Yongfu: "Industrial side, the status of Phase Two 'Mount Tai Project' implementation?"

Liu Yongfu walks to the console and pulls up a set of data: "Military industrial capacity has risen to seventy percent of total capacity. Six aircraft carriers' construction is overall two weeks ahead; the 'Lead Ship' is expected to sea‑test in late March. Tank monthly output reaches one hundred twenty units, aircraft monthly output eighty. But the problem is raw materials are tightening, especially special steel and rare metals."

"What about the import channels from the Ottoman and Persian Gulf?"

"They are still operating, but Yingguo has intensified surveillance of the Persian Gulf. Naval escort may be needed."

Chen Feng nods: "Li Te, navy side?"

Li Te steps forward: "The main fleet of the oceanic navy has completed assembly and can undertake distant missions at any time. But if we truly need to operate in the Indian Ocean or Southeast Asia, we must solve supply issues. Our bases in Borneo and Sumatra are still under construction, expected to be fully operational in three months."

"Accelerate. No matter the cost," Chen Feng says, "also, deploy the submarine force forward. Do not initiate attacks, but show presence. Let the Yingguo know that Lanfang's navy can threaten their shipping lanes."

"Understood."

"Zhou Tieshan, domestic security and intelligence?"

The security chief walks to the sand table: "Domestic public opinion is well controlled, popular support is high. But we must beware that as the economy shifts to wartime, living standards may fall, and discontent will accumulate. The Arab Division's loyalty monitoring system runs normally, but its rapid expansion poses risks."

"Strengthen political education, raise benefits, and also tighten monitoring," Chen Feng instructs, "additionally, shift intelligence focus to the Pacific. I want to know every move of Meilika's Pacific fleet, and every redeployment of Yingguo's Far‑East fleet."

"It's already underway."