Marshal Cheng Ruofan had originally intended to dispatch a group of German officers to the Confederate States of America. However, after hearing Manstein's assessment of mobile warfare, he temporarily shelved the plan.

Despite this setback, Cheng had not abandoned his intention to sow the seeds of revolution within the new American Civil War. But for the moment, he chose to wait for a more suitable opportunity rather than forcing the issue.

The opportunity arrived sooner than he expected. On March 16th, the West German government held a secret meeting in Hamburg with the Confederate representative, Lieutenant Colonel Dan.

The files delivered to Cheng revealed that this "Lieutenant Colonel Dan" had once been a prisoner of war in China. This fact made it difficult for Cheng to judge the level of trust the Confederacy placed in him.

While the West German government did not report directly to Cheng, all its important documents were accessible to the relevant departments within Chinese European Command. Thus, after finishing his routine work, Cheng pulled the records of the secret meeting and found a most intriguing dialogue.

Lieutenant Colonel Dan had told the West German representatives: "If the Federal Republic of Germany does not wish to become a target for infiltration by the United States, it should support the Confederacy. For the Confederate States have never been China's enemy, and strategically, we have no need to become one..."

*A very interesting young fellow,* Cheng thought to himself.

In the subsequent exchange, Dan had explained the Confederacy's requirements: to escape the cycle of war and focus on commerce. The USB relied primarily on the sale of grain and cotton—commodities the entire world required. Even if competition existed, there were no profound contradictions.

The USA in the North was different. Its internal economic structure dictated that it must constantly expand its global markets, or else face recurring economic crises. To resolve those crises, war was an ever-present option. At the very least, the North would constantly stir up trouble worldwide. In Europe, the USA would inevitably cooperate with the United Kingdom to infiltrate Germany.

Cheng was forced to admit that Dan possessed a global perspective. Furthermore, Dan's words were intended not only for the West Germans but for Chinese European Command as well.

If the Confederacy failed in its war for independence and America eventually reunified, Dan's prediction would likely come true. Even with Alaska and Hawaii independent after their referendums, a contiguous United States of over seven million square kilometers would remain a formidable power, yet one unable to solve its internal economic instability.

In Cheng's own reflections, he preferred a unified America unless the civil war served to advance a domestic revolution. China needed external pressure and models to learn from.

However, the exchange of personnel between China and America was limited, which was why Cheng struggled to reach a more detailed judgment.

Thinking of this, a strange realization struck him. He Rui’s private contacts with the West had been no more extensive than his own, yet the Chairman had always made unerringly accurate projections.

Cheng realized then that in the year since He Rui's death, he had barely found the time to truly remember the man. He then felt that this thought was also not quite right.

During his life, He Rui had shared many visions of the future, but at the time, Cheng and his comrades had dismissed them as flights of fancy. They respected He Rui and assumed he would live well into his seventies or eighties—there was plenty of time for the future to happen. They had humored his "weird ideas" just to keep their leader happy.

It wasn't until He Rui passed away that they realized every single "prophecy" was becoming a reality. Even after his death, the Chairman’s words continued to manifest. Cheng had once thought He Rui possessed a sense of humor and a love for idle thought. Now, looking back, he realized He Rui had been a man of terrifying, constant gravity—a man so serious that he seemed "boring" in his singular focus on the truth.

To only truly see He Rui after he was gone left Cheng feeling a deep melancholy. Even through this new lens, he could see just how unshakeable the Chairman's convictions had been.

After a period of reflection, Cheng reached a decision. Since he couldn't fully grasp the reality of America, he would resolve the issue according to his own beliefs.

On March 17th, Lieutenant Colonel Dan received a mysterious communication. To be precise, it was a slip of paper tucked inside a napkin, which he discovered upon opening it for lunch. On it was a single typed sentence: "Please come to the rear entrance of the hotel at 2:15 PM."

With his small team of five in West Germany, Dan was not worried about assassination. It would have been too easy to kill him. Since arriving, his greatest hope had been to establish a link with Chinese European Command. Knowing how difficult that was, he was determined not to let any opportunity pass.

After consulting with his team, Dan reached the hotel’s rear entrance at the appointed time. There was no one suspicious in sight. Before he could begin a search, a young boy ran up and handed him an envelope, speaking rapidly in German. Dan, unable to understand, opened the envelope to find another slip of paper and a Chinese banknote. The note instructed him to head to a famous street in Hamburg and to give the note to the boy as payment.

Finding this playful method encouraging, Dan handed the two-yuan bill to the child. The boy clearly recognized the currency and departed happily.

After receiving two more instructions from random passersby along the way, Dan found himself before a small church. The building was in disrepair, but beside it, a new structure was nearing completion. Dan noted the three Chinese characters on the plaque over the entrance: "Liuyun Guan" (流云观). During his time in the POW camp, he had studied Chinese culture and knew that "Guan" usually denoted a Daoist temple.

Gazing at the crumbling church being replaced by a Chinese temple, Dan felt a mix of curiosity and a slight discomfort.

But there was no time for such thoughts. Following the latest instruction, he entered the empty church and found a final note in the shrine: "Enter the confessional."

The confessional consisted of two small adjacent booths, separated by a wall with a screen of small holes, allowing the penitent to speak with the priest without seeing his face.

Dan entered the booth from the front of the church. To his surprise, he found a brand-new chair inside the dilapidated stall. He couldn't help but smile; the preparations were indeed meticulous. Hearing no sound from the other side, he sat quietly, his mind drifting to recent events.

He had left Mexico by sea on March 7th, as the US Navy had blockaded the Confederacy's Atlantic routes—a move mirroring the first Civil War.

On March 10th, the Dewey government had issued a call for a consultation conference. The Confederacy had ignored it. On March 15th, federal land, sea, and air forces had launched an offensive against the South.

Although Dan had only reached Berlin on the 15th, the Confederacy had finalized the communication with European Command on the 7th. He had been moving at a frantic pace.

Just as he was thinking this, he heard movement in the booth beside him. A voice asked in English: "Colonel, do you have something to say?"

Dan answered frankly: "The United States in the North is China's enemy. The Confederate States are not."

"What is it the Confederate States seek?" the voice continued.

"We are not ignorant of the value of centralization," Dan answered decisively. "But above the power of the state must be the free lifestyle sought by the American people."

The voice on the other side paused. Dan sensed a moment of surprise. After a while, the person continued: "In the history of Chinese political struggle, there is a central point of conflict called 'competing with the people for profit.' Who 'the people' are is the core question. By my understanding of America, your 'people' are the local feudal grandees who inherit their fathers' power, not the ordinary citizens struggling to live. Colonel, who do you believe the American people are?"

Dan was stunned. He had never expected to hear such a grounded, analytical remark from a Chinese Marshal. He had reflected deeply on America and read extensively. When the Constitution was framed, the "people" were at most those citizens with the right to be elected.

As the nation developed, the definition had expanded, yet politics remained in the hands of the local power bases. Dan knew that without his mentor, General Bourbon, he would never have achieved his current status.

But Dan did not lay bare his heart entirely. He asked calmly, "Do you believe the freedom of the American people is without value?"

These were his genuine feelings. He believed he had gone to war to pursue a free lifestyle; had he merely wanted to survive, he would never have left home.

Furthermore, Dan felt the person on the other side should understand this. In the POW camps, the Chinese had promoted their own version of a "correct lifestyle."

If the Chinese military were not also fighting for their own expected way of life, Dan did not believe they would have been so courageous on the battlefield.

The silence on the other side stretched out before the voice spoke again: "Are you carrying a secret mandate?"