**Chapter 877: Time for North America (4)**

February 14, 1943. Valentine's Day. Roosevelt felt he had received the best possible Valentine's gift: news had finally arrived from the Chinese government through the secret diplomatic channel Secretary of State Hull had been cultivating.

On this occasion, Roosevelt did not call for his lover but spent the holiday with his wife. Mrs. Roosevelt, the social activist, was unaware that her husband had resumed his affair. As she set the meal before him and took her own seat, she spoke of the encounters she had had during her advocacy for women's rights across America.

"Dear, some families have been asking if it's possible to exchange prisoners with China," Mrs. Roosevelt said, her expression filled with genuine compassion.

Due to his wife's cold and inflexible personality, Roosevelt generally disliked talking with her. This time, however, he felt she had provided an excellent channel for Sino-American communication. Swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes, he asked, "In which states did you meet these voters?"

"Mostly in the Northern states," she replied, recalling the pained looks of the servicemen's families. "Virginia, Maine, New York, North and South Carolina. People were asking in all of them."

Roosevelt noted the names of the states, memorizing them. As long as such people existed, he could use them to build political momentum. The US currently held some Chinese prisoners of war—mostly pilots who had parachuted during the Singapore campaign starting in October 1941, along with a smaller number of soldiers captured in the Solomons.

That the number of captured Chinese pilots exceeded that of common soldiers was abnormal, but the value of airmen was far higher than that of ordinary infantry. More importantly, negotiations for a POW swap would constitute official Sino-American talks. As long as the officers attending were of sufficient rank, the two sides could set the stage for subsequent meetings.

The day after Valentine's Day, Roosevelt had the State Council contact China.

In Mexico City, people in broad ponchos and wide-brimmed hats rode horses through the streets. Horse-drawn wagons shuttled between factories, creating a steady stream of traffic.

Before the war, the US had invested heavily in Mexico—investments truly aimed at boosting Mexican industrial capacity rather than just resource extraction. As the war progressed, US imports from Mexico increased steadily, and Mexican domestic employment saw significant growth.

In this prosperous city stimulated by the war economy, ordinary people failed to notice two cars arriving at a famous seafood restaurant. First to arrive was the US Ambassador to Mexico, Michael. Seated in a pre-booked private room, Michael checked his watch.

According to the arrangement, Michael was to arrive at 10:45 AM and the Chinese personnel at 10:50. Seeing it was already 10:48, Michael said to his secretary with some resentment, "I expect the Chinese will be a few minutes late."

The secretary said nothing. In an ordinary meeting, lateness was an insult. But with the two nations at each other's throats and China holding a massive advantage, such a delay would project a winner's arrogance. From a negotiating standpoint, applying pressure was a necessary choice, and a slight delay was a perfect minor tactic.

Ambassador Michael sat down and looked out from the balcony. He had just begun watching the bustling streets of Mexico City when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was a waiter with the menu, he didn't turn around.

The secretary opened the door, and a moment later footsteps entered. Michael was surprised when the secretary remained silent. Turning, he saw two Chinese men had entered—it was the Chinese Ambassador to Mexico, Li Xiong. Michael's secretary closed the door. Ambassador Li Xiong checked his wrist and said to Michael, "It is 10:50. Shall we begin?"

The atmosphere in the room was heavy. The two ambassadors sat facing each other over a checkered tablecloth, neither looking friendly. Finally, Michael spoke: "On behalf of the United States government, I express our firm rejection of China's act of initiating war!"

As Michael said, with China holding a massive advantage on the battlefield, Li Xiong felt a sense of superiority. He was actually pleased by Michael's statement and replied in a level tone, "I fully understand America's emotions. If you are finished expressing them, we can proceed with the discussion!"

Michael was loath to express anger like a "loser." Hearing Li Xiong, he immediately moved to the main topic. "The war has created too many tragedies. Those who have lost their lives have already brought immense pain to their families. And the captured servicemen cause their families constant, agonizing fear. America believes it is necessary to allow families to visit the POW camps."

While Li Xiong felt this was an excellent opportunity for further communication, he shook his head. "I believe neither of us has the authorization to discuss this. Especially myself; I have no such authorization at all."

Michael felt that by mentioning authorization, Li was actually agreeing to contact and was steering the topic toward a higher-level meeting. Though resentful, he didn't probe further, instead asking, "When shall we meet again?"

"I will notify you," Li said, then rose and left the room.

Watching the two Chinese diplomats vanish, Michael began considering how to report this to the Secretary of State.

In China, the Central Committee members who should have been happy at the news were instead in a state of deep depression. For He Rui had fallen ill. It began as a simple cough and cold but quickly developed into a pneumonia-like condition. Thereafter, He Rui ran a high fever, his temperature reaching 39.2°C at one point.

This terrified the committee members, especially those who had participated in eliminating past epidemics; with their basic physiological knowledge, such a high fever was a shocking development.

Fortunately, the fever lasted less than an hour. It then settled into a pneumonia-like state, but soon his temperature spiked again to 39°C.

By now, the Medical Academy—using electron microscopy to analyze samples—had finally confirmed the diagnosis: He Rui had contracted the "American Virus," the same strain that had broken out after the First World War.

The West, especially the US, claimed the 1919 pandemic had simply vanished. In truth, it had never left but was rapidly mutating. Only because the lethality had dropped and the Western powers wanted to quell panic did they claim it had "suddenly disappeared" after three years.

The Center immediately ordered a strict investigation into how He Rui had been infected. Based on his itinerary, they soon determined he had visited a POW camp in the Yunnan-Guizhou region. According to latest reports, a new batch of US prisoners arriving at the camp had triggered an outbreak of the American coronavirus there. Members of He Rui's entourage had also fallen ill.

With the cause identified, the committee members felt slightly relieved, yet their anger flared. Currently, visitors were only allowed a few glimpses through a protective door. Representing the others, a comrade who visited saw that He Rui's face and hands—visible outside his hospital gown—were as white as paper, as if all the blood had been drained from his body.

Since falling ill, He Rui had been completely unable to handle work, a situation unprecedented for the Center. Even with Li Runshi presiding over the Standing Committee in his stead and the nation running smoothly, the overall unease was reinforced by this unfamiliarity, making the work feel somewhat frantic.

When the Roosevelt administration sent out feelers for communication, some agitated committee members stated flatly, "While the Chairman is unwell, we refuse to communicate with that filthy country, America!"

Li Runshi fully understood their surface emotions, for he himself was furious. He had spent the most time with He Rui after his return to the capital, yet he and the Military Commission comrades were fine. Li faced immense pressure and held a strong resentment toward the US. Especially with China holding such a massive strategic advantage, the fact that He Rui had been struck down by an American virus felt more like an outrage than a misfortune.

Aside from the surface emotions, Li also realized a portion of the comrades did not internally accept his leadership. This was why they wanted to leave all major matters until He Rui's recovery. While He Rui had passed the critical stage, the virus had damaged some of his organs, leaving him increasingly frail.

"Illness comes like a mountain falling, and leaves like drawing silk"—He Rui's full recovery would take a long time. Li Runshi could not allow work to stall. Thus, he first held a meeting with Foreign Minister Li Shiguang.

Li Shiguang said immediately, "Vice Chairman Li, I believe it is necessary to begin negotiations with America at once."

Seeing the Minister's clear attitude, Li Runshi confirmed his support and discussed the core issues of the negotiation with him. They soon reached a consensus. Li Shiguang summarized: "At this stage, we must create a meeting of sufficient rank. By March 25th, we must determine whether America is willing to exit the war."

Li Runshi nodded. March 25th was the deadline for completing preparations for the New Zealand offensive, involving 230 warships—centered on 12 carriers and 8 battleships—along with roughly 1,000 merchant transport vessels.

Such an operation was too costly to be delayed for negotiations. Unless the US made a clear decision to exit the war by the 25th, the New Zealand campaign would proceed.

Li Shiguang continued: "By May 1st, if America has not clearly indicated its withdrawal, we will launch the plan to land in Canada."

Li nodded again, feeling a sense of relative ease. Logically, a Canadian landing would trigger a violent US reaction and an intense war. But once it began, all US strength—especially the Navy—would be tied down in the North Pacific. Even if defensive gaps appeared elsewhere, the US would lack the capacity to exploit them.

If America was defeated there, it was essentially finished. Even if China were defeated in North America, it would only mean an inability to advance on that continent, without affecting China's overall strategic position.

Whether the Roosevelt administration was willing to talk depended on America's strategic choice. Explaining China's strategy and inviting the US to join the New World Order would not require long negotiations. Such things couldn't be faked; the American elite would surely understand. The only difficulty was whether they would choose to join.

Finishing with the Foreign Ministry, Li then convened a State Council meeting. Although Wu Youping had requested to resign, the Central Committee had asked him to continue.

Wu, who had previously handed work to the Vice Premiers, attended this meeting personally. He appeared quite tense. Before it began, he conferred with Li Runshi. "Vice Chairman Li, are you certain the Chairman is completely out of danger?"

"I have asked four doctors," Li replied.

Wu did not press further but swallowed two pills and steadied himself before saying, "Vice Chairman Li, the Chairman *must* be fine. If any misfortune befalls him, while subsequent matters can be solved, it will surely cause massive internal damage."

Li knew Wu was referring to the "showdown after total victory." Some comrades still spoke thus because they felt that with He Rui present, staking a claim now might yield advantages later. But once He Rui was gone, if Li had not attained his position through the electoral system, things would turn very ugly.

"Premier, rest assured. The Chairman will certainly be fine," Li emphasized once more.

The State Council meeting primarily discussed economics. Compared to 1942, the leadership was far more composed. Data showed China's 1942 GDP had reached 1.8 trillion CNY. At the pre-war exchange rate of 1:6, that was $300 billion—18% higher than projected.

Based on current demand, the 1943 GDP was projected to reach 2.1 trillion CNY, or roughly $350 billion. While China still trailed the US in per capita terms, in total volume—especially industrial and agricultural output—it had comprehensively surpassed America.

Intelligence showed US military spending in 1942 had reached $79.1 billion. China's total tax revenue was about 30%, or $90 billion. After basic government expenses, China's war spending was around $66.5 billion.

While the absolute figure seemed lower than America's, China had finished building its shipbuilding, aviation, electronics, and materials industries before the war. These sectors had formed complete chains and were profitable in their own right. China hadn't made special investments in new industries after the war began, but simply issued massive orders to existing ones. Thus, China's $66.5 billion in military spending was equivalent to roughly $90 billion or even $100 billion in US terms.

A report from SASAC argued that if the war continued at this rate, America would face fiscal collapse by 1944.

Of course, the US wasn't entirely without a chance. If they abolished the federal system and turned the states into provinces, giving the federal government the full powers of a centralized state, they could continue.

But the report judged that in such a scenario, the Roosevelt administration would lack the capacity to fight both domestically and internationally at the same time.

Li Runshi had called the meeting not to gloat over China's advantage, but to let the data soothe the leadership and keep them from meddling in other matters.

Seeing the various departments were steady after their reports, Li raised a new requirement: "Fully safeguard the interests of Chinese nationals (Qiao Min) overseas and ensure they can rapidly integrate into their local societies and economies. To this end, we can accept larger deficits."

In a narrow sense, "migrants" meant former Chinese citizens who became foreigners. Focusing on them now would mean a drain on China's population. "Overseas Chinese" (Qiao Min) were different—the term applied to all citizens residing abroad.

At the mention of overseas Chinese, the State Council leaders were invigorated. While they would meet problems initially, intelligence showed there were many countries and regions where Chinese productivity could be leveraged.

Even setting aside remittances, simply considering the release of domestic labor surplus could solve a great many issues.

The official from the Ministry of Land and Resources was the most excited. "At this stage, we indeed need a large number of overseas Chinese to develop the iron mines of Western Australia. Once those ores start flowing into the country on a large scale, our shortage of high-quality ore will be solved once and for all."

The official from Agriculture was equally enthused. "Transporting alfalfa and other fodder from Australia to China yielded no profit in the past. But high-quality alfalfa hay can satisfy the livestock needs of the Southeast; even a hundred million tons a year could be fully absorbed."

Other officials didn't interrupt, not because they didn't know what the nation needed, but because iron ore and alfalfa were clearly the two largest and most urgent commodities. They were critical both now and for China's future.

Around the transport of hundreds of millions of tons of these commodities, China's industrial layout would shift. The Ministry of Transport, for instance, would need to invest in domestic shipping and canals to ensure these goods reached landlocked areas directly.

The Ministry of Industry would adjust the location of metallurgical enterprises. Placing steel plants on the coast had once been seen as foolish, but with high-quality Australian ore arriving by the hundreds of millions of tons, it became the smart choice.

Before the war, the State Council had known a globalized China would undergo massive changes, but only now that the change had begun did they feel the great power of globalization.

Li Runshi had only made the opening remarks; in their excitement, the comrades grew increasingly proactive. The meeting's mood lifted. Li gradually stopped speaking, listening to his ministers happily discuss future development, his heart more settled.

Finally, he looked toward Wu Youping, who returned his gaze with a slight nod—a sign of approval. Once consensus was reached in the State Council and with the Foreign Ministry, all that remained was to finalize the view of the Military Commission.

Economy, military, and diplomacy are the pillars of national operation. Ensuring the state runs smoothly allowed Li to then communicate with the comrades in the Party.

With the party, military, and government running under his leadership, Li effectively held power in China. All that remained was to ensure his election in 1945 through continued work.

Though Wu Youping would unconditionally support He Rui's decision—even if he chose someone else—for now, Wu stood firmly with Li. He dearly hoped Li could take over He Rui's work, if only to allow the Chairman time to rest.