Chapter 567: The True Nature of the So‑Called

"Now you understand?" Wilson's voice was like ice. "While you were playing petty tricks in the North Atlantic, the Far East was brewing a storm that could destroy the entire empire. And that storm could be triggered by Meilika's hasty entry into the war."

"But… does Lanfang really dare? They're just a newly emerging nation…"

"Newly emerging nation?" Wilson sneered. "They have world‑class warships, a complete industrial system, and Persian Gulf oil. More importantly, they have ambition. Chen Feng told me in Hawaii: 'The Asians have come, bringing their own will and strength. You may dislike it, but you must accept it.'"

He paused, letting each word sink into their minds.

"So, Ambassador, go back to London and tell them: Meilika will join the war, but on our timetable. We will protect the shipping lanes, provide supplies, and eventually dispatch troops. But before that, Yingguo must do two things."

Spring‑Lys set the documents down, striving to stay calm: "Please, go on."

"First, keep your intelligence department in check. Stop trying to manipulate the situation and stop treating Meilika's people as pawns. Otherwise, next time I will make the evidence public—let the whole world see what the so‑called 'allies' really look like."

The ambassador's complexion turned ashen.

"Second, reassess your global strategy. If you press too hard on the Western Front and drive Deguo into a corner, Deguo will keep seeking help from Lanfang. Then you will face a two‑front war—Europe and the Far East. And Meilika cannot help you win both wars at once."

Wilson rose, a signal that the guest was being seen off.

"I'll be blunt, because there is no time for roundabout talk. Meilika will fulfill its ally responsibilities, but only in a rational, controllable way. If Yingguo cannot grasp this, then this war may be lost elsewhere before we even reach Europe."

Spring‑Lys also stood. He had wanted to say more, but in the end merely nodded: "I will convey your words to London in full."

As he reached the doorway, he hesitated, then turned back: "President, please believe that Yingguo never intended to harm Meilika. We are just… too desperate."

Wilson looked at him, his gaze complex.

"Desperation cannot justify any means, Ambassador. Otherwise, what distinguishes us from those we are fighting?"

The door closed.

Wilson sat back by the fireplace, letting out a deep sigh. The firmness earlier was both a performance and genuine. He must make Yingguo understand that Meilika is not a pawn to be manipulated at will.

Yet a deeper worry remained: Chen Feng's warning might be correct. An expanded war could truly drag the whole world into the abyss.

The phone rang. It was Lansing.

"Did the Yingguo ambassador leave?"

"Just left."

"How does he look?"

"Looks like he was struck by lightning," Wilson rubbed his brow, "but it was necessary. Tell Rodman, at eight tomorrow morning, I want him to bring the plan for Lanfang. The detailed plan."

"Understood. Also… we have news from Chen Feng's side. Lanfang just held a massive conferment ceremony, promoting fifteen new major‑general commanders. That means their army is rapidly expanding."

Wilson closed his eyes.

The wheels of history are accelerating. And he is trying to grab the steering wheel before it spins out of control.

London, 10 Downing Street, 11 p. m.

Prime Minister Asquith hadn't slept yet. He sat in his study, holding the Encrypted Telegram Spring‑Lys had sent back. The telegram was long, detailing every aspect of the Wilson Meeting.

Outside, London's winter night was pitch black. Under blackout, the whole city had only a few scattered glimmers, like candles about to go out.

The study door opened, and Sir Gray, the Foreign Minister, stepped in, his complexion equally grave.

"You've also received the telegram?" Asquith asked.

"Just finished reading," Gray sat down, rubbing his temples wearily, "Wilson is tougher than we imagined, and smarter than we imagined."

"He saw through the NY‑107 affair."

"There's no direct evidence, but he saw through it," Gray chuckled wryly, "and that's scarier. Because he hasn't made a public accusation; he's using it as a bargaining chip. That means he may actually have evidence we don't know about."

Asquith tossed the telegram onto the desk: "The current problem is the Far East. Fifty Sakura Nation divisions… God, if that's true…"

"Chen Feng's words to Wilson in Hawaii match the information we obtained from other channels," Gray said, walking to the liquor cabinet and pouring himself a glass of whisky—he rarely drinks—"Lanfang's cooperation with the Sakura Nation is deepening. Our Far East intelligence station reports that the Sakura Nation's recent conscription scale is unusually massive, and its military factories are expanding."

"But where does their money come from? The Sakura Nation's economy shouldn't be able to support mobilizing fifty divisions."

"Clearly it's Lanfang's money," Gray said, taking a sip, the strong spirit making him frown, "Chen Feng has gold mines and oil in Borneo. More importantly, he has technology. He can trade technology and funds for the Sakura Nation's manpower."

Asquith stood and paced the study. The thick carpet absorbed his footsteps, leaving only the crackle of burning logs in the fireplace.

"What about Wilson's conditions? How do you see them?"

"He gave us a stepping stone," Gray analyzed, "The Atlantic Fleet will fully take over escort duties—that's a substantive participation, just without a formal declaration of war. He needs time to mobilize, which is understandable—Meilika's army does need preparation. The key is, he warned us not to push Lanfang out of the Far East."

"So what should we do? Abandon our Far East interests?"

"No," Gray set down his glass, "but we need to adjust strategy. With Lanfang, use both soft and hard tactics. On one hand, showcase our naval power in the Far East; on the other… perhaps we can make private contacts to gauge their post‑war expectations."

Asquith halted his pacing: "Do you suggest we negotiate with Lanfang?"

"Not formal negotiations, but private communications. Through Swiss or Swedish neutral channels, convey that Yingguo acknowledges Lanfang's special interests in the Persian Gulf and Southeast Asia, provided they do not challenge our core positions in India and Singapore."

"Will Chen Feng accept?"

"I don't know," Gray admitted, "but we must try. If Lanfang truly teams up with the Sakura Nation to cause trouble in the Far East while we are mired in the European front… that would be disaster."

Asquith returned to his desk, his fingers drumming on the surface—a habit he has when thinking.

"Send a dispatch to the Governor of India to strengthen defenses. Especially the Singapore fortress—accelerate its construction. Send a dispatch to Australia and New Zealand to raise their alertness. But remember—every action must be low‑key, not publicly provoke Lanfang or the Sakura Nation."