As Hu Xiushan’s vehicle traversed the streets of the capital, the changes surrounding him suggested he should feel astonishment, yet he found no such emotion within.

Thirty years ago, back in Siping, He Rui had told them that within three decades, China would become powerful beyond belief. At the time, Hu had thought that as a man just entering his fifties, he would surely live to see it.

The period that had truly felt transformative, a time of "heaven and earth being overturned," had been his thirties and forties. Winning the war against Japan, winning the war against Britain, signing the full cooperation agreement with France—during those ten years, China had charged into fields once thought to be the exclusive domain of the West. Every day brought new, head-scratching problems, yet development progressed at a lightning pace.

To the fifty-year-old Hu Xiushan, the current development of China felt merely like a continuation and a breakthrough built upon that past foundation. While exhilarating, it was entirely predictable. There was no longer any sense of the sudden or the unexpected.

Everything He Rui and his comrades had promised the people thirty years ago was now a reality before his eyes. Everything promised twenty years ago was currently coming to fruition.

But the future world He Rui had described ten years ago was only just beginning to take shape. Hu Xiushan did not yet possess full confidence that it could be realized.

What truly surprised Hu was that he felt no genuine joy or anticipation for such a future. Was it that, having passed fifty, he had lost the capacity for excitement? Or was it because this future was... too tedious? He couldn't quite fathom his own heart.

The scenery itself was certainly not beautiful. The dim sky was choked with smog, and the broad streets were lined with construction sites. Half of the main road had been dug up, and workers were currently pouring concrete for a massive drainage pipe, nearly two meters wide and a meter high.

Previous layouts of the capital’s drainage had been flawed; during heavy rains, the streets turned into rivers. While Zhengzhou was not prone to frequent downpours, the increasing standard of living meant that any flood caused escalating losses. After a rain, the streets would be thick with garbage-laden sludge that emitted a foul stench under the sun.

Beyond the water systems, work was proceeding on a massive subway network. Every major intersection was cordoned off with bamboo barriers, and thick steel plates were laid over the roads to prevent the surface from being crushed by heavy machinery.

The sight reminded Hu of a military airfield. It seemed the engineering skills accumulated during the war were being put to use in urban construction. The steel plates weren't pretty, but they were practical. With his extensive experience using them, Hu was certain they solved many real-world problems, and China now possessed the economic strength to afford them.

Recalling the clear skies and fresh air of the North American indigenous nations, Hu had to admit that while the fruits of industrialization were real, the price was significant.

As He Rui had said, the new energy revolution was not just to solve industrial problems but to address the living environment of the Chinese people. If pollution continued to worsen, Chinese cities would become unfit for human habitation.

Entering the large conference room of the Military Commission building, Hu found Chairman Li Runshi and the other members already waiting. After warm handshakes, they took their seats.

"Comrade Xiushan," Li Runshi began, "the geopolitical situation envisioned by Chairman He has now been fully realized. The Commission looks forward to your recommendations for the future."

A sense of melancholy washed over Hu. Thirty years ago, he had learned geopolitics from He Rui. Initially, he had seen it as an all-encompassing science. But as his knowledge grew more systematic and his experience deepened, he had concluded that geopolitics was simply a theory better suited to military science, and nothing more.

As a soldier, Hu had seen the future that the realization of He Rui's geopolitical vision would bring.

From a military perspective, Asia was now a collection of small and medium nations; no single power possessed overwhelming strength in any region. Japan was strong, but it was no Great Britain.

Britain sat within sight of the European continent, choking its maritime lanes. Facing a fragmented Europe, it had countless opportunities for intervention. Japan, however, was relatively distant from the East Asian mainland, separated by Korea. Furthermore, China was a massive, blood-unified state with two thousand years of history.

While Japan would count as a Great Power in any other region, its geography dictated that it was destined to be a "small nation" in the shadow of China. It could only play a significant role if China itself were in a state of near-terminal crisis. So long as China remained functional, Japan had no opening.

The Indian subcontinent had returned to its historical norm of fragmented states, and the Middle East similarly lacked a decisive power. None of these nations possessed the capability to challenge Chinese military dominance in their regions.

Furthermore, Chinese dominance was not for colonial purposes but for the maintenance of order and the opposition to war. Thus, China did not need to maintain massive overseas garrisons; a limited military presence was enough to manage the situation.

Most of Africa was under Chinese trusteeship. In the ongoing border settlements, China had avoided creating any new states that possessed natural defensive barriers and only a single front to guard. Thus, a small number of troops could ensure the security of the continent.

South and Central America had been defined by a century of border disputes; overall, there was no possibility of a single power unifying the region.

The only two nations currently capable of causing trouble were the Soviet Union and the United States.

The US still possessed the resources to be a global power, but it had lost its two-ocean barrier. With the establishment of the indigenous nations to the north, the US was vulnerable to a fatal blow at any moment.

From a geopolitical angle, the US was caught in an impossible deadlock. Utilizing military threats against the northern states would be a costly and futile endeavor. The true threat to America was not the northern states themselves, but the Chinese mainland ten thousand miles away.

The moment the US attacked the northern states, China would launch a fatal strike against the US. If the US attempted to strike the Chinese mainland, it would be intercepted by the islands of the vast Pacific. Long before they could reach Chinese soil, the Chinese forces stationed in the northern indigenous states would launch a devastating strike against the American industrial heartland around the Great Lakes, just a few hundred kilometers away.

If the US chose the path of peace and attempted to build relations with its northern neighbors, it would have to account for the slaughter of tens of millions of North American indigenous people and seek their forgiveness.

The probability of that was negligible. The evidence of the genocide was too vast and too damning. The weight of that blood debt was enough to deny the very moral existence of the United States as a nation.

Any nation that lacks a moral foundation for its existence is inherently a "criminal nation" until its sins are fully atoned for. Hu could see no possibility of America clearing that debt within the next century.

So long as the sin remained, America would never earn the forgiveness of its neighbors. It would remain perpetually under the shadow of a Chinese military strike, unable to project power globally.

As for the Soviet Union on the northern tundras, its high latitude placed it too far from the equator. In the Pacific, it faced China and Japan; in the West, it faced Germany and France. In the Black Sea, it faced Turkey. The USSR was a nation that appeared to have maritime access but in reality lacked the right of free navigation.

A nation that lacks the right of free navigation can hardly talk of global power projection.

Hu knew that the twenty or so men in the room were well aware that He Rui had finalized his global geopolitical vision thirty years ago and had completed the vast majority of it before his death.

The only remaining variable was the United States. Hu believed America might eventually end its internal split, but even if reunified, it could never return to the high level of federal power it held in 1943.

Unable to resist, Hu finally asked the question on his mind: "Is the purpose of the Nuremberg Trials to thoroughly bury the old world order?"

"Only by codifying the evil of the old order can we allow the liberated peoples of the world to define the value and meaning of the new one," Li Runshi answered readily. "Only then can they understand what can be forgiven, and what must never be accepted."

Hu admired the judgment. If the North American indigenous people accepted the narrative that the European massacres were for the "promotion of civilization," then the Chinese military presence in North America would be seen as "opposing civilization." All of He Rui's efforts would be rendered valueless—even seen as a return of barbarism against civilization.

Hearing Hu's high-level inquiry, Li asked, "How does Comrade Xiushan assess the current progress of the geopolitical situation?"

Finding Li's response in line with his expectations, Hu replied: "When Chairman He formulated the geopolitical landscape, it was not based on military conquest, but on global economic development. This is why China can fund its military using only the tax levels of the war years.

"I believe the Center is promoting a new global economic order to allow every nation to develop rapidly, thereby grounding geopolitics upon a stable and growing global economy."

Li Runshi was struck by the calm answer. The Marshals educated by He Rui indeed possessed an extraordinary vision, understanding the interplay between economics, politics, and the military. Yet he also felt a sense of melancholy. He had often witnessed conversations between Hu and He Rui; long before they spoke, the trust between them was absolute. Compared to that level of revolutionary friendship, Li knew his relationship with the Marshals was merely that of normal comrades.

Hu would not stab him in the back, but neither would he grant him unconditional support. At the level of National Chairman and Marshal, everyone analyzed the other's intent with cool deliberation. He Rui’s ability to simply say "go east" and have Hu trust him completely was a level of trust that was, in its own way, abnormal.

The meeting concluded in a spirit of unity. Hu was granted two days of leave and prepared to depart. As he walked out, he encountered Xu Chengfeng.

"Any plans for the next few days?" Xu asked casually.

Sensing the probe, Hu replied frankly, "I intend to go and see the Chairman."

"Together?" Xu asked.

Hu hadn't particularly wanted to go with Xu; aside from his mood, he suspected Xu wanted to discuss state affairs. But it was not the time to refuse. He nodded. "I was planning on tomorrow afternoon..."

"I'll contact the comrades at the memorial hall," Xu followed up immediately, leaving no room for a refusal.

"...Fine," Hu agreed. They reached the exit, shook hands briefly, and boarded their respective cars.

Because they were headed in different directions, the cars drove off in opposite paths, growing ever more distant.