World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

On the way back to his residence, Wang Wenwu said to Chen Feng, "The results were better than expected. The exchanges at the grassroots level were very successful."

"But the higher-ups have even deeper concerns." Chen Feng looked at the streetlights flashing past the window. "Rodman's problems tonight represent the widespread anxieties within the Mirka military. They've seen our strength and are beginning to reassess the balance of power in the Pacific."

"Will this affect tomorrow's talks?"

"Definitely." Chen Feng closed his eyes. "Wilson will get a detailed report from Rodman. He knows we are not to be underestimated, which will make him more cautious in considering our proposal. But at the same time, it may also increase his vigilance."

The car drove into the officers' villa area. As Chen Feng got out of the car, he looked up at the clear starry sky of Hawaii.

Tomorrow, he will face to face with one of the most powerful men of our time. All the displays, all the exchanges, all the undercurrents of probing today are preparations for that moment of dialogue.

"Get some rest," he told Wang Wenwu. "Tomorrow is just the beginning."

The villa door closed, and the night in Pearl Harbor returned to tranquility. But in the harbor, the outlines of those warships remained clear under the moonlight—the modern lines of the "Huaihe" and the traditional shape of the "Arizona" were moored side by side, like a dialogue between two eras, or a collision between two worlds.

Meanwhile, countless eyes are watching this place from Washington, London, and Berlin. The campfire in Hawaii has died down, but the struggle in the Pacific has only just begun.

Chen Feng was already awake at six o'clock in the morning.

The morning at Pearl Harbor was mild and bright. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds, casting golden streaks on the bedroom floor. Chen Feng sat in a chair by the window, a cup of tea in his hand—a habit he brought from Dubai, one he maintained even while traveling thousands of miles.

The aroma of tea rose gently into the air, but his gaze remained fixed on the view outside the window.

From this vantage point, one can see a small patch of lawn in the officers' quarters, and further on, the waters of Pearl Harbor's inner harbor. Several destroyers are moving slowly, perhaps conducting morning patrols or training. Further still, the massive silhouette of the "Huaihe" is faintly visible in the morning mist, like a sleeping behemoth.

A soft knock sounded on the door.

"Come in."

Wang Wenwu pushed open the door and entered, carrying a folder and the day's schedule. He was already dressed neatly, his dark gray suit pressed without a single wrinkle.

"Good morning, President. This is the final agenda for today."

Chen Feng took the folder and quickly flipped through it. The first formal meeting with President Wilson was scheduled for 9:00 AM in a specially prepared conference room within the naval base. It was expected to last two hours. Afterwards, there would be a working lunch, followed by separate preparations for the afternoon, and possibly an informal exchange in the evening.

"Any new developments from the US side?"

"General Rodman's adjutant sent a briefing in the early hours of the morning, confirming the security arrangements and communication confidentiality measures for the meeting. In addition..." Wang Wenwu paused, "According to reports from our personnel remaining on the ship, after the party last night, the technical staff of the Meilika Navy conducted long-range observation and photography of the 'Huaihe' until 2 a.m.

Chen Feng put down his teacup: "As expected. Let them take the pictures; some things can't be photographed away."

"According to General Rodman, President Wilson worked very late last night, reviewing a detailed report on Lanfang, including economic data, military strength assessments, and... your personal background information."

"My background?" Chen Feng smiled. "What can they find? Someone who studied in San Francisco, or a Chinese entrepreneur from Southeast Asia?"

"The report may be full of speculation and gaps. But that will only increase their curiosity and... vigilance."

Chen Feng stood up and walked to the window. The morning light had completely filled the harbor, making the outlines of the warships clear. He could see the Stars and Stripes rising from the USS Arizona, fluttering slowly in the breeze.

"Being wary is normal. We have suddenly appeared on the world stage with an unusually fast pace of development, so anyone would be wary. The key is how to transform this wariness into respect, rather than hostility."

"Today's meeting..."

"Today we have three things to do." Chen Feng turned around, his expression becoming focused. "First, establish the tone for the dialogue—two emerging industrial powers with common interests can cooperate. Second, break down their moral narrative—war has no absolute right or wrong, only interests and costs. Third, present them with a vision they cannot refuse—a future where Merika can achieve hegemony without bloodshed, and Lanfang can develop in peace."

Wang Wenwu took notes, then looked up: "Wilson is an idealist. Would he accept such a purely self-serving argument?"

"Idealists are often the most easily persuaded by reality." Chen Feng walked back to the table and began to straighten his tie. "Because they have ideals, when reality proves that the path is blocked, they will suffer, they will struggle, and eventually... they will look for a new path. What we need to do is point out another path for them."

Breakfast was delivered to the room at 7:30.

A simple American breakfast: fried eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee. Chen Feng didn't eat much, spending most of his time reviewing the materials Wang Wenwu had prepared—trade data charts between Lanfang and Meilika, an analysis of the impact of the European war on the economies of the two countries, and a briefing on international public opinion trends.

At eight o'clock, Captain Zhang Haitao came to report.

"Sir, everything was normal on board last night. The observations from the Merika side did not involve any overstepping of boundaries. In addition, General Rodman conveyed through me that he hopes to arrange a technical exchange this afternoon, where the heads of the two ships' departments can discuss some professional issues in depth."

"Okay, you can make the arrangements." Chen Feng nodded. "Remember, keep the technical exchanges within the scope of existing publicly available technologies. Don't discuss core secrets, but you can demonstrate our professionalism."

"clear."

At 8:30, Chen Feng changed into another suit—a dark blue one, with a more formal cut. Wang Wenwu checked all the documents to make sure nothing was missing.

At 8:45, Lieutenant General Rodman personally drove to the villa.

"Good morning, Mr. Chen, Mr. Wang." Rodman was wearing a white naval officer's uniform today, and his expression was even more serious than yesterday. "The President is ready. Please follow me."

The car drove deeper into the base, through a eucalyptus grove, and stopped in front of an inconspicuous two-story building. It looked like a warehouse or repair shop, but four Secret Service agents were already standing at the door.

"We chose this location for absolute secrecy," Rodman explained. "The building's interior has been soundproofed to ensure there's no possibility of external eavesdropping."

Chen Feng nodded: "That's very thoughtful."

Upon entering the building, the interior was completely different from the exterior. The corridors were carpeted in dark colors, and the walls were freshly painted white. They were led to a meeting room at the far end of the second floor.

When the door opened, President Woodrow Wilson was already standing inside waiting.