Chapter 779: Cyprus Agreement 3

At 9 a. m. on the morning of June 21, the meeting continued.

This time, the atmosphere in the meeting room was noticeably different. Asquies's complexion was still a bit pale, but no longer as desperate as yesterday. He looked at Wilson, who gave him a slight nod.

Kelei Mengsuo remained expressionless, but his fingers no longer drummed the table. Tirpitz sat up straight, staring ahead. Chen Feng lifted his teacup, sipping slowly, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

Wilson stood up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, after yesterday's discussion, each side has thought more deeply. Today, we will go straight to the main issue."

He looked at Asquies. "Prime Minister Asquies, has Yingguo's position changed?"

Asquies stood up. His voice was much steadier than yesterday, yet each word seemed forced from between his teeth.

"Yingguo is willing to relinquish its reparations demands against Deguo."

The meeting room fell silent for a second. Then Tirpitz stood up.

He walked to Asquies's side and stopped. Everyone stared at him, unsure of what he would do.

Tirpitz spoke. His voice was hoarse, yet each word was clear and forceful.

"Prime Minister Asquies, Deguo thanks Yingguo for its goodwill. In return, Deguo announces—immediate release of all Yingguo prisoners of war. One hundred fifty thousand people, all released. Let them return home."

Asquies was stunned.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but nothing came out. His eyes grew a bit sour. He fought to hold back, yet tears still fell.

He lowered his head, wiping his face with his sleeve. Then he lifted his head, looking at Tirpitz.

"Thank you."

Tirpitz shook his head. "No thanks. The war is over."

The two shook hands.

Applause rang in the meeting room. Kelei Mengsuo clapped, Wilson clapped, Lansing clapped, Wang Wenwu clapped. Only Chen Feng did not clap. He merely watched the scene, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

When the applause subsided, Wilson spoke again.

"Very well. Yingguo and Deguo have reached reconciliation. Now, we will discuss the final issue—His Majesty Wilhelm II's status."

Everyone's gaze turned to Tirpitz.

Tirpitz stood up. His voice was steady, yet everyone could hear the complex emotions beneath that steadiness.

"Your Majesty Emperor Wilhelm II of Deguo is willing to accept the new arrangement. His Majesty will retain the imperial title, but will no longer wield real power. Deguo will establish a cabinet system, with the prime minister holding executive authority and being accountable to the parliament."

He paused.

"Marshal Xingdengbao will serve as Deguo's first post‑war prime minister."

The meeting room was quiet for a few seconds. Then Kelei Mengsuo was the first to speak.

"Faguo accepts this arrangement."

Asquies also nodded. "Yingguo accepts."

Wilson looked at Chen Feng. Chen Feng nodded. "Lanfang supports."

Wilson stood up.

"Good. The five nations have reached consensus."

He walked to the podium and picked up a document from the table.

"This is the draft of the Cyprus Convention. Please review it,"

At 4 p. m., the signing ceremony.

In the hall of the conference center, five long tables were placed side by side. Each table was covered with dark‑green velvet, bearing a thick document and a golden fountain pen.

Reporters were allowed into the hall, standing in the designated area. Flashbulbs popped in succession, and the shutters clicked click‑click. Everyone held their breath, awaiting the historic moment.

Wilson was the first to approach the table. He picked up the pen and signed his name on the document. Each stroke was written slowly and carefully. After signing, he lifted his head and gave the reporters a smile.

Kelei Mengsuo was the second to the table. His movements were swift; after signing, he exhaled a breath as if shedding a thousand‑pound burden.

Tirpitz was the third to the table. He took the pen and signed his name on the document. His hand was steady, without a tremor. After signing, he straightened his posture and nodded at the reporters.

Asquies was the fourth to the table. His hand trembled slightly. He took a deep breath, then bent over and signed his name. After signing, he stood there, looking at the document for a long time. No one knew what he was thinking.

Chen Feng was the last to approach the table.

He picked up the pen and signed his name on the document. Each stroke was written slowly and carefully. After signing, he set the pen down, lifted his head, and looked at the flashing lights.

There was no expression on his face.

But he knew that from this moment, the world had changed.

At 5 p. m., a group photo.

The five stood on the steps at the entrance of the conference center. Behind them were five flagpoles, their flags fluttering in the wind. Wilson stood in the middle, Chen Feng to his left, Kelei Mengsuo to his right, Tirpitz to Chen Feng's left, and Asquies to Kelei Mengsuo's right.

Reporters frantically pressed the shutters. The flashlights lit up the scene, almost blinding.

Wilson smiled, waving at the camera. Kelei Mengsuo also laughed, a laugh of relief. Tirpitz stood tall, his face solemn. Asquies forced out a smile, but everyone could see how bitter it was.

Only Chen Feng did not smile.

He simply stood, looking at the camera, his face expressionless. The wind brushed his coat's hem. Sunlight fell on his face, illuminating the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

The shutters clicked, recording the moment.

At this moment, the five stood together. At this moment, five flags flew side by side. At this moment, the world ushered in a new era.

At 6 p. m., the sunset set in the west.

Wang Wenwu stood behind the crowd, watching the scene, suddenly feeling dazed.

A year ago, Lanfang was still fighting for survival. At Dubai's docks, workers were still patching the huge breach on the Huaihe ship. Soldiers of the Sakura Nation were still struggling in the Malayan jungle. Zhao Dengyu was still waiting on the dunes of Holldasa for the Yingguo troops to arrive.

A year later, Lanfang stood at the center of the world stage.

Equal with those once‑imperial great powers. On that document that decided the world's fate, he signed his name.

He recalled Chen Feng's words—"The war is over. But the real contest has only just begun."

Indeed, the real contest has only just begun.

In the distance, the setting sun was sinking into the Mediterranean. Golden afterglow spilled onto the sea surface, onto the flagpoles, onto the reporters still taking photos, onto the building that had just witnessed history.

Wang Wenwu looked at the golden sea surface and said softly:

"From today onward, the world has changed."

That night, the five nations' delegations each held celebration events.

On the Meilika delegation's ship, champagne bottles were opened one after another, and laughter came in waves. Wilson stood on the deck, clinking glasses with Lansing, a smug smile on his face.

In the Faguo delegation's hotel, Ke Lie Mengsuo rarely had a glass of red wine. He sat by the window, watching the night outside, and said to Pi Xiong: "Alsace and Lorraine, finally returned."