By September 2, 1945, the Italian sub-tribunal of the Nuremberg trials had completed its primary judgment of the Mussolini government.

Across Italy, the public converged on any place with a radio: village broadcast stations, urban street corners, and town squares. Whether they were members of the now-governing Communist Party, hidden Fascists, or the King himself—who already knew his political system was destined for change—all listened with bated breath for the final verdict.

The first announcements concerned domestic war crimes. Italy’s military actions in Ethiopia, Greece, and Yugoslavia were formally classified as acts of aggression. The Italian state was to bear responsibility and face corresponding punishment. Most Italians received this news with a heavy heart, letting out low sighs of resignation.

Next came the political judgment. The Italian Fascist Party was found guilty of war crimes abroad and at home, as well as crimes against humanity and genocide. It was branded a criminal organization.

At this news, the Italian leftists—who had suffered decades of persecution, exile, and murder—erupted in cheers. After twenty years, they could finally celebrate in the light of day.

Conversely, members of the Fascist Party and right-wing elements bowed their heads in despair. Branding the party an illegal organization meant total bans and purges within Italy. These men, who believed they had been fighting for their country, were now its pariahs and scapegoats. According to Italian political tradition, every ill would now be laid at the feet of the Fascist Party—even the things they had opposed.

Regardless of their political leanings, ordinary Italians felt the matter was far from settled. The subsequent broadcast, however, left them astonished.

The primary qualitative phase of the trial had concluded. The Nuremberg Tribunal would henceforth proceed with individual cases within these frameworks, without introducing new directions for prosecution.

While the public struggled to grasp the implications, the Italian leadership understood them perfectly. That the matter stopped here left them both surprised and relieved. The King, in particular, felt he had passed through the fire unscathed, as no calls had been made for his personal trial.

On September 4th, a collective summit was held between the Foreign Ministers of Italy, Ethiopia, Greece, and Yugoslavia. Italy formally acknowledged the illegality of its invasions and began discussions on reparations.

The Ethiopian Foreign Minister was visibly moved. While this was the second time Ethiopia had defeated Italian aggressors, the victory of an African nation over a European power was a source of immense pride.

The Greek Foreign Minister, as a fellow European, felt no such status barrier. He even cracked a joke at Italy's expense: "Without the Germans joining in, Italy would have been driven out of Greece by defeat long ago."

It was a sharp jab. In the initial invasion, the Greek army had performed admirably, dealing the Italians heavy losses and even forcing a retreat.

The Italian Foreign Minister, a member of the Communist Party and a veteran of the WPLA Logistics Department, was not provoked. Before the meeting, the Chinese mediators had privately informed him that Beijing did not advocate for immediate, crushing reparations.

"It is better to untie a knot than tie one," they had said. War reparations were more about an attitude than anything else; they would not be the "marrow-sucking" variety of the Treaty of Versailles.

With China’s backing, the Italian Minister felt more secure. Apologizing and admitting guilt were not difficult tasks for the state. So long as the reparations remained within acceptable bounds, he would not go down in history as the man who sold out his nation. He had no intention of countering the Greek Minister’s taunt.

As he had anticipated, the demands from Ethiopia, Greece, and Yugoslavia were not exorbitant. They only insisted on the right to seek private claims—reparation for individual citizens who had suffered illegal harm during the war. This was a request that could vary greatly in scale. The Italian Minister immediately agreed to the principle of apologies but insisted that such claims be handled within the Italian legal system.

On the question of jurisdiction, the other three nations showed no sign of letting Italy off easily. The four ministers engaged in a fierce battle of words.

Not far from the Foreign Ministry, at the Italian Ministry of Commerce, three old comrades from the WPLA were meeting as representatives of Italy, Greece, and Yugoslavia.

This meeting was far more cordial. All three agreed on the need to strengthen regional economic ties, expand trade, and revitalize their respective economies. Yet, despite their shared goals, they were uncertain how to turn this desire into reality. Inevitably, the three old friends began probing one another to see what each had managed to secure from China.

"Greece has many ports; surely you've already received investment?"

"Hardly! Italy's coastline is far longer, and your number of quality harbors dwarfs ours. It must be Italy that has the investment."

"Yugoslavia is vast and populous. If developed, it will surely benefit the people."

"Stop talking nonsense! You know the state of our domestic transport. Yugoslavia relied on its rugged mountains to fight the Germans, but those same mountains are a curse for development in peacetime. Think of the capital required!"

They chatted and probed, yet none could extract any concrete news from the others. Finally, the Greek Commerce Minister lost his patience and asked directly: "I hear France has proposed a Coal and Steel Community, and several leaders of the banned parties in Germany have already contacted Paris. If the West moves in that direction, what are we to do?"

The Italian and Yugoslavian ministers grew serious, fixing their eyes on the Greek. He continued: "Do we currently possess the economic conditions to form our own Coal and Steel Community? I’d like to hear your thoughts."

Greece possessed significant reserves of lignite, but Italy was virtually devoid of natural resources. They turned to the Yugoslavian Minister. He shook his head. "Our minerals are limited. If we must cooperate economically, a customs union is perhaps the only area where we can manage."

At the mention of a customs union, the others fell silent. There was no possibility of such a thing succeeding.

After further discussion, the three agreed they had to remain united in negotiations with China. They sought not only orders, but access to Chinese raw materials for their industrial development.

On September 6th, Italy reached an agreement with the other three nations regarding private claims. On that same day, the three Commerce Ministers met with a Chinese representative.

After listening to them for a while, the Chinese official spoke plainly: "Everything you have mentioned is covered within the framework of GATT."

The Italian Minister had studied the GATT protocols and received briefings from his staff. He replied: "Italy firmly supports GATT. But I recall a story: a small crucian carp was trapped in a puddle in a wagon rut. It pleaded with a passing Chinese sage for help. The sage said he was going to a great kingdom and would ask the King to dig a canal from a river hundreds of miles away to rescue the fish. The carp replied in fury: 'By tomorrow, you can find me dried up in the fish market!'"

The Chinese representative, surprised by the Italian’s use of a classic Zhuangzi fable, saw the other two ministers nodding in agreement. The Greek Minister added bluntly: "What we need now is for our domestic firms to start working, and for that, we need cheap raw materials. If we don’t get them immediately, our economy will collapse, and the new government’s support will plummet. Comrade, you wouldn't want to see the first Communist government in Greek history fail, would you?"

The plea did not make the Chinese representative arrogant, though he was certainly pleased. That the three representatives could enter into their roles so quickly was a good sign for the work ahead. He answered: "Minister Cheng is about to return to Africa to preside over operations. I believe you should speak with him regarding these matters."

The three ministers had long wanted to approach Cheng Ruofan for projects, but they had not been high-level enough in the WPLA to contact a figure of his stature. They hadn't even realized he had left Africa.

Thrilled, they inquired about his return to China. Learning he had gone to personally pay respects to He Rui, all three were moved.

"It is my great regret never to have personally met a figure as great as Chairman He," the Greek Minister sighed.

The Italian Minister, representing a civilization as ancient as Greece, followed up: "Those second-rate French politicians were allowed to see the Chairman, and they brag about it every time they return. It is truly unfair that we never had the chance. Unfair."

He then added, "Please, you must introduce us to the Marshal."

Cheng Ruofan was currently on a plane headed back to Africa. He had returned to the capital to mourn He Rui but had also received a mandate from the Party to serve as the supreme head of negotiations for economic reconstruction and cooperation with the European nations.

When he first heard of the appointment, Cheng had shown little interest. He had even questioned why a soldier was being put in such a political role. Li Runshi had explained that in European culture, the supreme commander of the occupying forces was expected to play this leading role. "When in Rome," Li had said, and Cheng was the most suitable candidate.

"Am I only responsible for the ceremonial aspects?" Cheng had asked.

Li Runshi had shaken his head. "Marshal Cheng, the organization believes you are fully capable of making the final calls at the executive level. The specific treaty details will be handled by the relevant comrades, but Europe needs a man of prestige to launch these reconstruction projects. Especially the reconstruction of Germany—it must begin as soon as possible..."

Recalling his conversation with Li, Cheng’s handsome brow furrowed slightly. The disposal of Germany was a momentous task. He Rui had shared a few thoughts with him before his death. America and the USSR were Great Powers; they would never submit to China. The European nations, however, were middle powers; without cooperation with a Great Power, their future would be difficult.

Cheng remembered that when he had expressed that Europe must atone for its crimes, He Rui had smiled bitterly. "Europe’s wealth lies in its early industrialization," the Chairman had said. "Science and industry are their greatest assets. Even if we demand reparations, they must be able to afford them. To ensure they can pay, we must first help them recover from the trauma of the war."

At the time, Cheng's mind had been full of military matters. He had remembered the words but had not prioritized them. Furthermore, he had never truly believed He Rui would die so young, before even seeing the total liberation of Europe.

The weight of the mission from the Center and He Rui’s final wishes placed immense pressure on him. Whenever he thought of the Chairman, the image of He Rui in his crystal coffin—looking as he had in his twenties—flickered in his mind.

Thirty years felt like a dream. At this moment of the dream's realization, Cheng had expected to be ecstatic, yet he found only a sense of relief. For this victory belonged to the people, not to him.

In these thirty tumultuous years, the days he remembered most were those spent in exhaustive political, economic, and military construction. The days of intense anxiety, unable to sleep because of problems identified in war games and exercises.

Even in victory, as he reviewed the post-war summaries, the columns of death tolls and the names of the fallen left him feeling a profound debt to those heroes. Many had spoken with him before their deaths; they had hoped only to see their country improved, their families' lives made easier, and a better future for their children.

None of these heroes had become soldiers for their own sake. And Cheng Ruofan was the man who had coldly calculated how many of them must die to achieve a military objective.

Understanding this with clarity, Cheng no longer felt any desire to claim the glory of victory for himself. The glory belonged to the people and the soldiers; for him, the war had brought only a heavy sense of responsibility.

So when Cheng was looking forward to a period of rest after the victory, he never expected to receive the news of He Rui’s death—his most important comrade.

To Cheng, He Rui was his leader, his teacher, and the "Origin Point" of his soul. No matter the problem, as long as he found that point, he could identify his own deviation and correct his course. Without He Rui, he was left to find those deviations and adjust his direction alone. Compared to the victory, Cheng felt what he had lost was infinitely greater.

Despite his low spirits, he forced himself to emerge from the negativity. On his return to China, he had witnessed the staggering changes occurring even in just a few months. China was developing at a lightning pace. The beautiful life that He Rui and his soldiers had dreamed of was becoming a reality on the tracks of rapid development.

Since he was still alive, he had a duty to continue. He would inherit the shared wishes of the departed and keep moving forward.

Casting aside his distractions—or perhaps burying himself in his work—Cheng looked at the latest report. One recommendation caught his eye, for it was marked as having been proposed by "Number 1."

"Number 1" was the codename for He Rui. Cheng had not expected to see a new suggestion from him now, and his heart quickened. The entry read: *Methods for the recycling and reuse of building materials from German structures destroyed during the war...*