Chapter 738: Chen Feng's Signature Pancake

Xiyuansi Gongwang was startled for a moment: "The President means—"

Chen Feng looked at him, his gaze calm.

"After the war, we need an organization. One that can mediate conflicts between nations and maintain world peace. All countries may join and may speak. But decisions are made jointly by several major nations."

He lifted his wine glass and took a sip.

"I call it—International League."

"International League?"

Xiyuansi Gongwang repeated the term, a glimmer of contemplation flashing in his eyes.

Chen Feng nodded: "Right. International League. Within the League a permanent council is established, with several major powers serving as permanent members. Any major international affair must be discussed by the council. For the council to pass a resolution, it requires unanimous consent of all permanent members."

"Unanimous consent?" Xinta frowned, "What if a country disagrees?"

Chen Feng looked at him, a slight smile curling his lips.

"Then it won't pass. That's the veto power."

Xiyuansi Gongwang inhaled deeply.

Veto power.

He had never seen the term in any international treaty. Yet he instantly grasped its weight.

That means, as long as you are a permanent member, you can veto any international resolution unfavorable to you. It also means that within this organization you are not prey to be slaughtered, but a diner holding knife and fork.

He looked at Chen Feng, his voice trembling slightly.

"President, can the Sakura Nation become a permanent member?"

Chen Feng stared at him, silent for three seconds.

In those three seconds, Xiyuansi Gongwang's heartbeat nearly stopped.

Then Chen Feng spoke.

"The Sakura Nation shed forty-two thousand lives in Malaya, and fifty-three thousand in Myanmar. Nearly a hundred thousand people died on foreign soil."

He paused.

"That blood should not have been shed in vain."

Xiyuansi Gongwang sprang to his feet and bowed deeply.

"President! The Sakura Nation thanks Lanfang for its trust!"

Chen Feng helped him up: "Mr. Xiyuansi, don't do that. Today is Spring Festival; let's sit down and discuss slowly."

Xiyuansi Gongwang sat down, his eyes slightly reddened. He raised his glass and drained it in one gulp.

Xinta also stood up.

"President, Myanmar—"

Chen Feng waved his hand.

"Mr. Xinta, Myanmar has just become independent, its foundation still unstable. But Lanfang will fully support Myanmar. Once you have steadied your footing, the doors of the International League will always remain open to Myanmar."

Xinta was startled for a moment, then also bowed deeply.

"Thank you, President!"

Chen Feng helped him up, gesturing for him to sit.

Then he looked at Aiha Maide.

From the beginning until now, the nineteen‑year‑old king had scarcely spoken. He merely ate the pilaf before him in silence, occasionally sipping red wine, as if none of it concerned him.

"Your Majesty the King," Chen Feng began, "what are your thoughts?"

Aiha Maide set down his spoon and lifted his head.

He looked at Chen Feng, and in those nineteen‑year‑old eyes was something that surprised everyone present—not youthful passion, but the clarity of an elder.

"President," he said softly, "what you said is good, very tempting. But Yilang needs to ask itself a question."

Chen Feng looked at him: "What question?"

Aiha Maide stared straight into his eyes.

"Is this International League a truly equal organization, or a tool for a few great powers to shut the door and divide the cake?"

The banquet hall fell silent.

Xiyuansi Gongwang's complexion shifted, but he said nothing. Xinta also fell silent.

Chen Feng looked at the nineteen‑year‑old king for a long time.

Then he smiled. It was not a polite, perfunctory smile, but a genuine, heartfelt one.

"Your Majesty, you are a wise person."

Aiha Maide also smiled, though his smile was somewhat bitter.

"President, I ascended the throne at eight and have been a puppet for eleven years. I've seen the Englishman's cake. I've also seen the Russian's cake. They speak of friendship, cooperation, equality, but in their hearts think only of their own interests."

He paused.

"Now the International League you speak of sounds beautiful. But can Yilang get a piece of the cake inside it?"

Chen Feng was silent for three seconds.

Then he said: "Your Majesty, you are right. The International League is indeed a tool for a few great powers to shut the door and divide the cake."

Xiyuansi Gongwang was stunned.

Xinta was stunned as well.

Only Aiha Maide still looked calmly at Chen Feng.

Chen Feng continued: "But in this age, being allowed to sit outside the door and smell the cake is already far better than those who cannot even touch the door."

He stood up and walked to the window. Outside, sunlight glimmered on the sea of the Persian Gulf.

"Yilang has oil, a strategic location, and ten million people. As long as you manage it well, Yilang will qualify to be the one 'sitting outside the door smelling the cake.' As for when it can enter the door—"

He turned and looked at Aiha Maide.

"That depends on you."

Aiha Maide was silent for a long time.

He looked at Chen Feng, at those bottomless eyes, at that expressionless face. He tried to find on Chen Feng's face a hint of deceit, a trace of perfunctory, a sign of "I'm lying to you."

But he found nothing.

He only found calm.

That calm was more terrifying than any politician he had ever seen.

He lifted his wine glass and stood up.

"President, I toast you. To your speaking the truth."

Chen Feng also lifted his wine glass and clinked it with his.

"Your Majesty, to the truth."

The two drank it down in one gulp.

Night fell, and Dubai's night sky began to burst with fireworks.

A firework shot upward, exploding in the night sky, radiating multicolored light—red, gold, green, purple—like a huge flower blooming in the darkness.

Then came the second, the third, countless more.

The whole Dubai sky was illuminated by the fireworks.

Chen Feng led three guests onto the terrace, watching the dazzling night sky.

He looked up, the colors of the fireworks reflected in his eyes. He whispered, "So beautiful. Myanmar also has many fireworks, but they were all brought by the English. The Burmese themselves cannot set them off."

Xi Yuan Si Gongwang also stared at the night sky, his thoughts unknown.

Aiha Maide stood beside Chen Feng, also looking up. The fireworks' glow reflected on his youthful face, bright and flickering.

"President," he suddenly asked, "Do you set off fireworks to celebrate the Spring Festival, or to celebrate something else?"

Chen Feng turned his head and looked at him.

"What does Your Majesty think?"

Aiha Maide was silent for a few seconds.

"I think you are celebrating victory."

Chen Feng smiled.

"Your Majesty, you continue to surprise me more and more."

He pointed at the Persian Gulf, illuminated by the fireworks in the distance.

"Look over there."

Aiha Maide followed his finger with his gaze.

On the sea, several massive warships lay quietly at anchor. The fireworks' glow reflected on their hulls, shimmering with metallic sheen. They were the Huaihe and Zhujiang, under repair. Also the Bismarck and Tirpitz, with German sailors standing on deck, also watching the fireworks.