Warlords: Rising from the Northwest Border and Sweeping Across the Powers

Chapter 1228: Moderate Toughness

&34;What are you going to do?&34;

Sergei smiled bitterly: "Be moderately tough. Don't appear too weak, but don't really anger Su Zhengyang. This is a tightrope walk, Ivanov."

&34;But if what Sekt said is true...&34;

"Even if it's true, so what?" Sergei shook his head. "Do we really expect the Birds to give up the victory they have won? No, we can only maneuver within the space we have."

He picked up the phone: "Tell the Secretariat to prepare, tomorrow's negotiations may be long."

After hanging up the phone, Sergei looked out the window at Beilong City. This modern city was silently telling the arrival of a new era. Players from the old era could only carefully find their place on this new stage.

"Go and get some rest," he said to Ivanov. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

As night fell, the lights of the Russian Embassy were still on. On this seemingly peaceful night, a negotiation concerning the fate of the Far East was brewing.

As one of the protagonists of this negotiation, Sergei knew clearly that every word and every expression tomorrow might affect the final result.

This is a war without gunpowder, and they can no longer afford to lose.

Inside the Office of the President.

When Sergei and Ivanov walked in, Su Zhengyang was enjoying his breakfast, a bowl of steaming soy milk and a few golden and crispy dough sticks, simple and plain.

"You've arrived just in time," Su Zhengyang said with a smile, "Old Zhang, bring two more pairs of chopsticks."

Zhang Luanyu quickly brought the chopsticks. Sergei and Ivanov felt a little awkward, as this was the first time they had encountered such a scene.

"Try it," Su Zhengyang gestured, "This is the most common breakfast in China. Youtiao should be eaten while hot, otherwise it will not be crispy when it gets cold."

Sergei hesitated for a moment and picked up the chopsticks. Su Zhengyang chuckled as he watched the tall Russian Foreign Minister clumsily picking up the dough sticks with chopsticks.

"It's fried dough sticks," Su Zhengyang said slowly, "It looks straight, but it's actually two strands of dough twisted together. When it's put into the oil pan, it will expand and become big and thick."

He drank some soy milk and said: "Just like some people's ambitions, they are always expanding."

Sergei's hand paused slightly.

"However," Su Zhengyang continued, "no matter how big the dough sticks get, they can't escape the fate of being eaten."

He picked up a dough stick and gently broke it open: "Look, no matter how hard the outside is, the inside is still hollow."

Cold sweat broke out on Ivanov's forehead, and Sergei's chopsticks had already stopped in mid-air.

"Of course," Su Zhengyang said with a smile, "it's delicious with soy milk. Soy milk should be mild. If it's too hot, it will burn your mouth, and if it's too cold, it won't taste good."

He looked at Sergei and said, "Minister Sergei, isn't that right?"

Sergei put down his chopsticks and took a deep breath: "Mr. President is right. However, sometimes soy milk will be cooked into a paste and become bitter and astringent."

"Well said," Su Zhengyang nodded, "So I never rush, I always control the heat just right."

He finished the last bite of the dough stick with soy milk and said, "Okay, now we can talk about business. Minister Sergei, did you sleep well last night? I heard that you received an old friend?"

Sergei's expression changed slightly, and Su Zhengyang had already signaled Zhang Luanyu to clean up the dishes, as if the metaphor-filled conversation just now had never happened.

"Yes," Sergei said with a wry smile, "Sekt has come to mock us. Now the entire Will Alliance is laughing at us, even the allies against the Will Alliance..."

There was a hint of self-mockery in his tone: "A month ago, we were still a powerful country in Europe. But now..."

"I heard that Seckt took two bottles of vodka with him when he left," Su Zhengyang suddenly said, "It seems that you had a very pleasant chat."

Sergei's heart shuddered. This sentence confirmed his guess: Huaguo knew everything about last night's conversation. Ivanov was sweating profusely beside him.

But Su Zhengyang did not continue to dwell on this topic. He put down his teacup and looked directly into Sergei's eyes: "One million six hundred thousand square kilometers of land, including Lake Baikal. This is our bottom line. Is Tsarist Russia willing to return it?"

Such a straightforward question made Sergei Mo at a loss for a moment. He had prepared a lot of diplomatic rhetoric, but was caught off guard by Su Zhengyang's straightforward attitude.

"Mr. President," he said cautiously, "this land is heavily populated by Tsarist Russians, and the Baikal region..."

"I didn't ask that," Su Zhengyang interrupted him, "I just asked if you are willing to return it."

The atmosphere in the office suddenly became solemn. Zhang Luanyu stood aside, watching the scene expressionlessly.

"This area..." Sergei said with difficulty, "Isn't it too..."

"Too much?" Su Zhengyang sneered, "Compared to the land you took away by force back then, this is already very restrained."

He stood up and walked to the wall where the map was hung: "Minister Sergei, I have a suggestion for you: don't take what some people say seriously. Some wine tastes sweet, but you will regret it after drinking it."

Sergei's face turned pale. Su Zhengyang's words were obviously hinting that he knew what Sekt said last night.

"So," Su Zhengyang sat back in his seat, "please answer my question now: Is Tsarist Russia willing to return these lands?"

The sun shone through the window, shining on Su Zhengyang's calm face. But Sergei knew what kind of determination was hidden under this calmness.

At this moment, all diplomatic rhetoric and all roundabout strategies became meaningless. They were faced with a simple but cruel choice.

"Mr. President," Sergei took a deep breath, "One million six hundred thousand square kilometers... it's really too much. We can return half of it."

He motioned Ivanov to unfold the prepared map. On the map, a red line outlined an area of ​​about 800,000 square kilometers.

&34;These areas...&34;

&34;Snap!&34;

Su Zhengyang suddenly slapped his palm on the desk, interrupting Sergei's words. The water in the teacup swayed gently, making a crisp sound.

"Minister Sergei," Su Zhengyang said in a cold voice, "It seems that Sekt's two bottles of vodka gave you a lot of courage."

He stood up and walked to the map: "Do you think that with the support of the Bird Empire behind you, you can bargain with us?"

Sergei opened his mouth to speak, but Su Zhengyang raised his hand to stop him.

"Let me guess," Su Zhengyang ran his finger across the map, "This line was suggested by Sekt, right? To make you act tougher?"

Ivanov's hands began to tremble and he couldn't even hold the map.

"I have news for you," Su Zhengyang turned around, his eyes sharp, "Just yesterday, the Beidi Division received a batch of new weapons. General Otto said that his troops are lacking opportunities for actual combat exercises."

He sat back down in his seat: "So, Minister Sergei, are you sure you want to talk to me about this map?"

Zhang Luanyu handed over a document at the right time: "President, this is the latest combat readiness report of the Beidi Division."

Sergei looked at the document, cold sweat oozing from his forehead. He knew exactly what it meant.

"I'll ask again," Su Zhengyang said calmly but without question, "One million and six hundred thousand square kilometers, including Lake Baikal. Is Tsarist Russia willing to return it?"

The office fell into a deathly silence. The sun was still warm, but Sergei felt as if he had fallen into an icy cave.