(For Chapter 1-163, go to (https://chrysanthemumgarden.com/novel-tl/awbtv/))
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The welcome banquet Gao Lan hosted was, indeed, quite an interesting affair.
To begin with, banquets held under the banner of a "welcome" were usually thrown by someone for someone—meant to receive friends from afar and wash away the dust of travel. Even in this era of violent clashes between old and new, where strange and curious things emerged one after another, one still never heard of a man hosting a welcome banquet for himself.
But this was not to say that all the books Gao Lan liked to flaunt had truly gone down the dog's stomach. The truth was that this welcome banquet, held at Wanghai Tower, had originally been arranged by Adams—to receive Gao Lan and introduce him to Haicheng's prominent figures.
Preparations had begun more than a month earlier. Yet now that Adams, the original host, had met with misfortune, the banquet showed no intention of being canceled.
Clearly, Gao Lan was not someone who could not afford to host a banquet on his own. His decision to go ahead with it served only one purpose: to make his stance clear—he still stood firmly on the side of the Deyizhi.
After nearly a month in Haicheng and countless meetings with various people, no matter what he truly thought in his heart, Gao Lan outwardly continued to adhere to the choice he had made at the beginning.
Or rather, the choice he was forced to stick to after being set up by Yu Jingzhi.
For Chu Yunsheng and Yu Jingzhi, this was neither particularly good news nor bad news.
The welcome banquet was scheduled for seven o'clock in the evening.
On that day, after making all necessary arrangements, Chu Yunsheng and Yu Jingzhi—one in formal evening wear, the other in military uniform—set off right on time, driving toward Wanghai Tower.
True to its name, Wanghai Tower was a tall building from which one could look out over countless sails, blaring steam whistles, and steel leviathans upon the water, and gaze upon the vast open sea.
The building had been constructed during the Daoguang reign. Standing amid a cluster of foreign-style mansions, it was a traditional Chinese structure: redwood beams, a plaque with gold characters on a blue background, and bright red lanterns hanging beneath the eaves.
At this time, many establishments that called themselves Western restaurants merely painted their exteriors in a foreign style while keeping the inside unchanged—Eight Immortals tables and long wooden benches. Wanghai Tower, however, was the complete opposite. Externally, it looked little different from the refined old restaurants of Beiping, but inside it was thoroughly Western in style, scarcely inferior to the famed Pujiang Hotel or the Peace Hotel of Haicheng.
When Chu Yunsheng first arrived in this world, the first thing he encountered was a ball hosted by Yu Jingzhi.
That had taken place at the Jin Residence, within a half-Western-style building rarely seen in Beiping, and the spectacle had already been lavish beyond measure. Had that not been far from Yu Jingzhi's true power base—and had he not deliberately kept a low profile—it would surely have been even more bustling and magnificent.
But the ball at the Jin Residence could not be compared to Gao Lan's welcome banquet.
The entrance of Wanghai Tower was already encircled by a ring of fully armed soldiers. Inside were not only the troops Gao Lan had brought with him, but also many foreign faces; judging by their uniforms, they were Deyizhi.
A little farther away stood the Yinglun and Faguo forces, along with men from the Concession's police bureau, all clustered together like a mixed hodgepodge.
The police bureau of the concessions could never be placed in Huaguo hands. Thus, after Yu Jingzhi had carried out a purge of that force last time, it did not take long before Yinglun and Faguo jointly invited Yu Jingzhi to a banquet.
Everyone sat down at the same table, exchanged pleasantries, and redivided their shares of power.
Those were the unspoken rules above the table—ones that could not be broken lightly.
Greeting guests at the hotel entrance were Gao Lan's adjutant and a Deyizhi second lieutenant.
When they saw Chu Yunsheng and Yu Jingzhi arrive together, whether the smiles on their faces were genuine or not, they widened all the same. With great enthusiasm, they ushered the two distinguished guests inside.
Towering and majestic archways, grand and elegant columns, and delicate, ornate stained glass—set amid dark-toned wooden structures and pristine white paint—came together to form this magnificent and imposing Western-style grand hotel.
Elaborately designed chandeliers hung high overhead, spilling down broad swathes of bright light.
In Wanghai Tower's largest banquet hall, the welcome banquet was already underway—a Western-style buffet dinner. Long tables were arranged throughout the hall, and crowds filled every corner. At a glance, most guests were dressed in Western attire, their clothes neat, their bearing spirited and confident. Amid the clinking of glasses, guests chatted and laughed, while music filled the air.
Chu Yunsheng and Yu Jingzhi entered the hall, with Lu Yun and Liu Er following behind them respectively.
There were not many guests who arrived as late as they did, so the moment the banquet hall doors were pushed open, Chu Yunsheng could feel numerous gazes turning toward them.
"It's Mr. Yu who has arrived."
Gao Lan's adjutant announced it in a voice neither loud nor soft.
Even without the announcement, there were few in the hall who did not recognize Yu Jingzhi of Haicheng. At once, several people came forward, adopting respectful postures as they greeted Yu Jingzhi.
Not far away, Gao Lan—surrounded as though by a host of stars—also strode over quickly. He seemed to have completely forgotten the unpleasantness of their previous meeting, and laughed heartily as he said, "I was wondering who it might be—so it's Mr. Yu. No wonder the hall seems to have quieted a little; it's been captivated by Mr. Yu's presence."
"And this gentleman is…?"
His hospitable gaze shifted to Chu Yunsheng beside him, a trace of puzzlement appearing on his face.
Yu Jingzhi smiled, refined and courteous, and said naturally, "Welcome to Haicheng, Mr. Gao. This is a close friend of mine, Chu Yunsheng."
"Chu Yunsheng… Doctor Chu?"
Gao Lan's expression changed slightly, and the words slipped out of his mouth almost unconsciously.
At the same time, even more gazes turned toward them from around the hall—each carrying different meanings, yet few of them unfamiliar.
Clearly, after the fallout with Louis, Chu Yunsheng—who had played a crucial role in Adams's death—had already been placed on the watch lists of various factions as a key figure.
It was just that after those events, Chu Yunsheng had stopped working at the hospital and kept largely to himself. Many people knew his name and had seen photographs of him, but very few had actually met him in person.
As a result, a hint of curiosity appeared in Gao Lan's eyes.
He paused for a moment, then looked as if realization had dawned. With a friendly smile, he extended his hand toward Chu Yunsheng and said, "So this is Doctor Chu. I've long heard of you—what a rare pleasure to finally meet you."
Chu Yunsheng had long anticipated the reactions of those present and did not mind them in the least. Since he had chosen to appear here openly and aboveboard, he was naturally well prepared.
"Mr. Gao, I've long heard of you."
Chu Yunsheng's expression was calm as he gave Gao Lan a perfunctory handshake.
Gao Lan smiled and looked Chu Yunsheng over again, then said affably, "I hear that Doctor Chu studied abroad and performed excellently at university—a rare talent indeed. Now that I see you in person, the reputation is clearly well deserved. A promising young man, without doubt. After returning to the country, have you adjusted well?"
"Oh, right—someone told me that Doctor Chu has always wanted to set up a factory. It's been a year now; did you manage to make it happen?"
The words sounded like casual small talk, yet carried an obvious note of probing and guidance.
Yu Jingzhi cast Gao Lan a half-smiling, unreadable glance without speaking, then turned and took two glasses of champagne from a waiter's tray.
"Nowadays, many people go into industry, but few truly succeed. I know my own limitations—I'm not cut out for running factories or doing business. So I abandoned that idea and instead opened a hospital." Chu Yunsheng accepted a glass of champagne from Yu Jingzhi, looked at Gao Lan, and replied evenly.
The gesture itself was natural and unremarkable, but those around them, seeing Yu Jingzhi personally hand him a drink, were inwardly startled and uncertain.
Yu Jingzhi's attitude toward this doctor was far from ordinary. Could it be that those ambiguous pieces of intelligence were, in fact, true?
"So the factory never came to be?"
Gao Lan's eyes showed surprise. Smiling, he glanced at Yu Jingzhi and said, "With Doctor Chu being such close friends with Mr. Yu, how could there be anything he couldn't accomplish? In all of Haicheng, who wouldn't show him a bit of respect? And if Haicheng isn't a convenient place, perhaps Doctor Chu might consider taking a look up in Northern Jiang Province. I, for one, am currently seeking like-minded friends and happen to be interested in establishing a pharmaceutical factory."
Ever since news of antibiotics had leaked out, the words "pharmaceutical factory" had become exceedingly sensitive. Upon hearing them, the expressions of those nearby subtly changed.
Just then, the doors of the banquet hall opened once more.
The conversation broke off. Following the direction of everyone's gaze, Chu Yunsheng looked over—only to see that the arrivals were none other than the Yinglun Pitt, accompanied by Julien, a prominent Faguo figure active on the social scene, and a tall man with an unfamiliar face, dressed in an Meidi military uniform.
Behind the three of them came Du Tianming, whom they had not seen for quite some time.
Ever since the Tianming Society had been cut down by Yu Jingzhi, it had shown clear signs of decline. Much of its territory and many of its businesses had gradually been encroached upon by the Jiuliu Society. If not for Yinglun occasionally intervening behind the scenes to keep the Jiuliu Society in check, the Tianming Society would likely have long since lost its position as Haicheng's second-largest gang.
Now, with the tides of the era surging forward, many new underground forces had risen in Haicheng. Countless second- and third-rate gangs lurked in the shadows, all eyeing the chance to leap in a single bound and rise to prominence.
Under such circumstances, the pressure on Du Tianming was self-evident. Fortunately for him, he was someone long accustomed to kneeling. Being obsequious before Pitt did not strike him as particularly shameful; once he turned around, he could just as easily adopt another face and act arrogantly among those with yellow skin.
It was only that shifts in power had made his spine far less stiff when facing Yu Jingzhi.
"This is James from Meidi. Not long ago, he just came down from the Ouhua battlefield," Pitt said by way of introduction after they reached the group and exchanged a few brief pleasantries.
Gao Lan immediately gave James his due, shaking hands and chatting with him, then guiding everyone toward a nearby set of sofas for a rest.
As they made their way over, guests at the banquet smiled and nodded in greeting to Pitt and his companions—doing so with even greater warmth than they had shown toward Gao Lan.
Once everyone was seated and chatting casually, attendants brought over drinks.
"Whisky?" Pitt raised his glass toward James in invitation.
"No, no need, Pitt. You know—our navy is under prohibition," James replied, then turned to the attendant. "Sir, a glass of ice water, please."
Pitt laughed. "Actually, a little drink wouldn't hurt. The war is over—this is a time to rest."
"That's not entirely accurate, Pitt," said Julien, the Faguo with an artist's air about him. "Perhaps only when the Ouhua conference concludes later this month—or next month—can the fighting truly be said to be over. It will require patience and caution; otherwise, unnecessary disturbances may well arise."
At the mention of the Ouhua conference, the foreign guests could not help but let their gazes sweep over the handful of Huaguo present—only four in number.
Chu Yunsheng noticed those glances, and at the same time, he was observing the others seated there.
Pitt still wore an easygoing expression, as though he were merely chatting idly about trivial matters.
James smiled and took a cigar from Julien's cigarette case. Julien, however, showed little amusement; there was a distinct, unspoken meaning in his eyes as he cast a sidelong glance at Yu Jingzhi.
Yu Jingzhi, for his part, seemed entirely oblivious to Julien's faint yet probing scrutiny. He merely lowered his eyes to savor the champagne in his hand, his posture relaxed and unhurried. Only his shoulder leaned ever so slightly toward Chu Yunsheng, lazily finding a point of support.
In stark contrast sat Du Tianming at the very edge of the group, half his body perched off the sofa, wearing nothing but a fixed smile no matter whom he faced.
Gao Lan glanced around, then suddenly spoke up. "That Ouhua conference has been going on for several months now. It should be about time for it to conclude smoothly."
Hearing this, Julien shot Gao Lan a look. "Oh? So Huaguo also hopes that the Ouhua conference will end smoothly? I'm not sure that's truly the case, Mr. Gao."
The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the area abruptly stiffened.
Some guests who had been about to come over with drinks sensed the strangeness in the air and stopped in their tracks, quietly observing instead.
Among those seated, Gao Lan looked embarrassed. He sighed lightly and said with a smile, "Mr. Julien, this must be a misunderstanding. As one of the victorious nations, Huaguo naturally hopes that the Ouhua conference will conclude successfully and that the world will regain peace. On this point, our views are aligned with those of Faguo."
Julien's expression eased somewhat. Those deep, romantic eyes of his shifted as he said, "If that truly represents the thinking of the majority of the Huaguo people, that would be wonderful. Unfortunately, over this period of time I have seen many protest speeches and dissenting voices. They have been quite vocal, active in the streets, in schools, and in the newspapers."
"This has left me disappointed in Huaguo. We in Faguo are very eager for peace to arrive."
Gao Lan replied, "Mr. Julien, please believe me—these are extremely rare and isolated phenomena. The vast majority of Huaguo people cherish peace and respect the outcomes of the Ouhua conference."
"Oh? Is that so?"
A smile gradually appeared on Julien's face as he smoothly changed the subject. "Mr. Gao, what do you usually enjoy doing?"
"I enjoy playing golf," Gao Lan replied with a smile of his own.
In truth, he could hardly be said to have any particular fondness for golf. What he did enjoy, however, was anything Western and modern. This was much the same as how, though he detested foreigners, he was still willing to befriend them and talk business with them.
He called this keeping things in separate lanes.
Soon after, Gao Lan and Julien began chatting about golf, and the conversation appeared quite congenial.
Watching this little scene—one Huaguo man among several foreigners—Chu Yunsheng more or less grasped Gao Lan's purpose in hosting this welcome banquet. Flying the banner of Deyizhi, he spoke of wanting Faguo's trust, yet deep down, his true intentions likely aligned with neither of those two powers.
As for Julien, he seemed as though he had genuinely been persuaded by Gao Lan, deftly letting the matter slide and no longer bringing up the Ouhua conference.
But judging from Julien's expression, Chu Yunsheng felt that the matter was far from settled.
It was as though Julien was waiting for something.
Sure enough, only a few minutes later, two more people entered the banquet hall one after the other. Though they arrived not far apart, they were clearly divided, their expressions distant and unfamiliar.
The first to enter was the nominally Eastern— Dongyang —wealthy tycoon, Kōtarō Yoshida. His steps were somewhat hurried, sweat beading on his forehead, making it obvious that he was truly late—rather than deliberately arriving late out of hauteur or strained relations with Gao Lan. The former possibility would have applied to Pitt and the others; the latter, naturally, to Yu Jingzhi.
He straightened his short stature and offered courteous smiles to those acquaintances he recognized.
When his searching gaze found the sofa where the group was gathered, his smile grew all the more sincere. He waved off several people who tried to toast him and then hurried over.
Following him inside was Louis of Faguo.
This, too, was a familiar face. Yet Chu Yunsheng felt that of late, everyone who had once been on familiar terms with him and Yu Jingzhi seemed to be doing rather poorly—Du Tianming, who had aged markedly, and now Louis, pushed along in a wheelchair by a servant, his brows shadowed, his ambitions thwarted and his spirits low.
Seeing the corner where the most powerful figures in all of Haicheng were gathered, Louis's expression shifted slightly. He turned his head and murmured a few words to the servant, then made his way toward them.
Watching the figures of these two men, Chu Yunsheng sighed inwardly.
One after another, taking turns upon the stage.
"Mr. Yoshida, it's been a long time!"
"Louis, I didn't expect to see you here as well. Has your injury still not improved? Would you like me to recommend a doctor for you?"
After a brief exchange in English laced with a bit of Faguo, Kōtarō Yoshida took the chair beside Pitt, while Louis positioned his wheelchair next to Du Tianming. As for Julien, also Faguo, the two clearly behaved like strangers to one another.
Even though not long ago they had torn all pretense apart—guns leveled at guns, selling each other's secrets and intelligence with near-mad fervor—at this very moment, seated together around the same table, everyone truly appeared like old friends of many years, speaking gently and amiably, laughing freely, putting the hypocrisy and strange nature of humanity on full display.
Chu Yunsheng found the seating arrangement here genuinely fascinating.
All it would take was a ruler to measure the distances between sofas, between people, to easily discern who was close to whom—and where each person stood in terms of loyalties and interests.
"What were you gentlemen just discussing?" Kōtarō Yoshida asked with an air of curiosity, smiling.
"Just casual conversation," said James of the Meidi.
Julien, however, replied, "We were discussing the Ouhua conference. I imagine Mr. Yoshida would be interested in that as well."
"Of course, Mr. Julien." Kōtarō Yoshida swept a glance over the few Huaguo present, his gaze pausing briefly on Yu Jingzhi and Chu Yunsheng in turn. His smile grew even more deferential. "We in the East very much yearn for a peaceful world, and we are willing to use our strength to safeguard that peace."
Julien smiled. "I'm very pleased to hear that, Mr. Yoshida. That alone proves that we are like-minded friends. You see, I strongly dislike anything that is not peaceful. If there are problems, everyone can sit down and talk—there is no need to resort to guns and artillery."
"Just as Mr. Gao told me, the majority of Huaguo people love peace and support the outcomes of the Ouhua conference. I'm willing to believe that. Or perhaps there are some who are unwilling to believe in our sincerity and convictions—but that doesn't really matter."
"I do not support those strikes and student walkouts that involve shouting in the streets. However, I am willing to receive visits such as the one from Mr. Fang Jiming."
Chu Yunsheng adjusted his posture slightly.
He more or less knew where this conversation was headed.
Sure enough, the next moment Pitt said, "Is that so, Julien? Mr. Fang visited my residence as well, but I believe my answer was the same as yours. As for the Ouhua conference, we are all outsiders and can have no real influence over it. I'm very sorry that I couldn't be of help to him."
"But I do know that Mr. Fang was very sincere. The remarkable medicine he brought with him intrigued me greatly. In fact, long ago back home, I once heard a scholar mention it."
Julien raised an eyebrow and smiled. "You mean that medicine called penicillin? They classify it as a type of antibiotic—'antibiotic' is quite a novel term. I find it hard to believe that this was developed by the Huaguo; it is most unusual."
Kōtarō Yoshida's eyes flickered. "From what Mr. Pitt is saying, this medicine should have been discovered first by the Yinglun, shouldn't it?"
At that moment, Gao Lan put on a perfectly timed look of sudden realization and turned toward Chu Yunsheng. "Doctor Chu, I hear that this medicine was developed by a doctor at Mr. Yu's side. That wouldn't happen to be you, would it? If I remember correctly, the country where you studied abroad was Yinglun, wasn't it?"
In just those two short sentences, he drew the gaze of everyone present to the two-seat sofa that had remained silent all this time.
The map was laid bare; the dagger revealed.
Kōtarō Yoshida spoke up as if casually, adding a line for Gao Lan. "That would be quite a coincidence. I've never met this Doctor Chu, but since he is Mr. Yu's friend, he surely wouldn't be so shameless as to steal someone else's research results, would he?"
"This is my second time seeing Doctor Chu, but it's the first I've heard that he studied in Yinglun. Is that the case, Doctor Chu?" Pitt asked, a smile still fixed on his face—the same gentlemanly expression he always wore—as he looked at Chu Yunsheng.
One gaze after another nailed itself onto him like knives.
Beside them, a corridor pillar blocked off much of the crystal chandelier's light.
As a result, more than half of the sofas sank into a hazy gloom, like a small pile of moth corpses trapped beneath a blue-green lampshade—rigid, angular, lifeless.
Yet among that rigidity, something stirred back to life…
Chu Yunsheng's gaze slowly swept across the faces before him—some foreign, some compatriots. His expression was calm and cold, but the words he spoke were utterly unexpected.
"Penicillin was indeed something I stole from Mr. Fleming of Yinglun. But in this world, I was also, without question, the first to discover and develop penicillin."
He said it earnestly.
This was absolutely the truth.
Yet the moment this self-contradictory truth left his mouth, everyone present was left completely stunned, utterly unable to make sense of the meaning or logic of his words.
Even Pitt—who from beginning to end had carried himself with the air of someone calmly pulling the strings—looked utterly baffled. Everyone knew perfectly well that he had merely picked a convenient excuse, hoping to seize that medicine openly and "legitimately." Who would have thought that Chu Yunsheng would actually admit it? And who was this Fleming, anyway? No one had ever even heard the name.
An awkward stillness suddenly fell among the sofas.
Kōtarō Yoshida opened his mouth, intending to say something.
But before he could switch the probing, leading words he had prepared into a righteous condemnation, Chu Yunsheng spoke again:
"However, I don't think the scholar Mr. Pitt mentioned was Fleming."
"If Mr. Pitt has doubts about this, he's more than welcome to return to his country and develop penicillin together with that scholar himself. After all, that scholar discovered it even earlier than Mr. Fleming and I did. Turning it into a medicine—and producing it on a large scale—shouldn't be much of a problem."
He paused, his voice low and cold. "Or is it that, compared to returning home to conduct research, what Mr. Pitt really wants is the ready-made serum currently in Mr. Yu's and my hands?"
The fig leaf was adjusted again and again—only to be ripped off in one brutal motion.
Pitt's expression slowly darkened. He said nothing.
Julien studied Chu Yunsheng carefully, then suddenly laughed. "Doctor Chu, your pride and self-confidence strike me as rather laughable."
He shook his head and said with a sigh, "You must understand—this is the Yinglun and Faguo Concession. People like you, living in a country as rotten and outdated as a coffin, are only able to breathe this fresh, free, noble air because of the Concession—because of the benevolence of our coming here."
"Huaguo does not possess the knowledge you learned, nor can it produce precision machinery. What you know comes from Yinglun; the instruments and machines you use come from Ouhua and North Meidi."
"Doctor Chu, perhaps you've chosen the wrong object for your gratitude."
As he spoke, he cast a meaningful glance at Yu Jingzhi beside Chu Yunsheng.
Clink.
With a crisp sound, a champagne glass—containing only a shallow layer of liquid—brushed against the tablecloth and the edge of a plate before being set down by a long, strong, elegant hand.
Its owner leaned back into the wide sofa, lifting one booted leg to rest across his knee.
He raised his brows slightly, revealing a smile utterly at odds with his current relaxed, indulgent posture—gentle, refined, and impeccably polite—then said in Huaguo:
"Julien, spare me your foreign bullshit here."