vstars Chapter 1128 Silent Sense of Oppression
Chapter 1128 Silent Sense of Oppression
"Mr. Silva," Su Zhengyang picked up the teapot and poured tea for the Portuguese representative himself, "You see, pouring tea is also a science."
Silva's Adam's apple rolled noticeably. He knew better than anyone that when this "Crazy Su" acted more elegantly, it often meant a more dangerous situation.
"How high should the teapot be lifted and how thin the water column should be? There are certain rules." Su Zhengyang's hands controlled the water flow steadily. "If it's too high, the water will splash everywhere, and if it's too close, it will be difficult to breathe. Just like dealing with people, you have to know when to stop."
A thin stream of water poured into the teacup, making a crisp sound. Silva noticed that Su Zhengyang's eyes when he poured the tea were as focused as when he raised his gun at the negotiation table.
"Do you know?" Su Zhengyang continued, "This teapot was made by a craftsman in Macau. Although it has some Portuguese style, at its core," he paused meaningfully, "it is still an authentic purple sand ware."
Silva's hands began to shake uncontrollably.
"Just like Australia," Su Zhengyang said softly, "It may look a bit exotic on the surface, but the roots of that land have long been deeply rooted in the soil of China. Don't you think so?"
"In general...Your Excellency the President is right." Silva responded with difficulty.
"Look," Su Zhengyang filled the teapot, "when the tea reaches the appropriate height, it's time to stop." He raised his head and looked directly into Silva's eyes, "some things are the same. When it's time to stop, you have to know when to stop."
The other envoys were secretly observing this scene. The bloody scene during the concession negotiations half a year ago was still vivid in their minds, and now, this former "madman" conveyed his threat in such an elegant way.
"The tea leaves were brought from China by craftsmen in Macao," Su Zhengyang continued, "The teapots were made by craftsmen in Macao using Chinese purple clay, and even the water used to make the tea was brought from the mountain springs in China." He smiled meaningfully, "Do you think this tea is Portuguese tea or Chinese tea?"
Silva felt his back was soaked with cold sweat.
"Come," Su Zhengyang gently pushed the teacup in front of Silva, "drink it while it's hot. If the tea gets cold, it won't taste the same. The same goes for opportunities. If you miss it, it won't be beautiful anymore."
Silva took the teacup with trembling hands. He could feel Su Zhengyang's gaze piercing his soul. The "madman" who fired the gun at the negotiation table was now using a cup of tea to convey the same deadly message.
"Mr. Silva," Su Zhengyang's voice was still gentle, "I believe you can taste the... belonging of this cup of tea."
The entire banquet hall fell into deathly silence, with only the aroma of tea slowly drifting in the air.
"Duke Romanov," Su Zhengyang suddenly turned his gaze to the Russian representative who was watching the fun, "Your tea is cold, let me get you another cup."
Romanov, who was secretly rejoicing, was caught off guard and the smile on his face froze instantly.
"Speaking of which," Su Zhengyang poured tea for him slowly, "I have been studying some historical archives recently. Especially the contents of the "Eastern Xinjiang Treaty" and the "Capital Treaty." "
Romanov's expression instantly became stiff. He didn't expect that the fire would burn him.
"What's interesting is," Su Zhengyang's tone remained calm, but his eyes had become sharp, "the Far East region that Tsarist Russia took from us back then actually covered an area of more than 34 million square kilometers." He paused, "This area of land is larger than the entire France."
Ms. DuBois subconsciously shrank back, afraid to be dragged into this dangerous topic.
"I personally think," Su Zhengyang stared into Romanov's eyes like a hunter staring at his prey, "that these treaties were signed under unequal circumstances. As a...history enthusiast, I deeply regret this."
Romanov felt his back soaked with cold sweat. He thought of the negotiator who was executed on the spot by Su Zhengyang half a year ago, and he couldn't help shuddering.
"Duke," Su Zhengyang's voice suddenly became softer, which made people even more terrified. "How do you think this historical legacy should be resolved?"
"Mr. President," Romanov said calmly, "all these things happened a long time ago..."
"Time cannot change the essence of things," Su Zhengyang interrupted, a dangerous light flashing in his eyes, "Just like this cup of tea, no matter how long it is left, its origin will not change."
Zhang Luanyu was observing secretly from the side and he noticed that Romanov's hands had begun to tremble uncontrollably.
"I know," Su Zhengyang continued, "the current Tsarist Russia is no longer the Tsarist Russia of the past. But," he paused meaningfully, "the ownership of the land must be determined. What do you think?"
Romanov felt as if he was sitting on a powder keg. Just now he was still watching the embarrassing state of England and the Portuguese representative, but he didn't expect that this "Crazy Su" would point the finger at him in an instant.
"This question," Romanov said cautiously, "may require further discussion between the two sides..."
"Of course," Su Zhengyang suddenly revealed a chilling smile, "We have plenty of time... to discuss slowly. However," his eyes became sharp, "I hope that during the discussion, the Russian side can show enough... sincerity."
The atmosphere in the entire banquet hall froze again. The other envoys who were originally watching the excitement all lowered their heads at the same time, fearing that they would meet Su Zhengyang's captivating eyes.
This "Crazy Su" used just a cup of tea to make everyone present understand a truth: in the new era, China wants to take back more than just Hong Kong City and Macau City.
"Let's talk about tea again," Su Zhengyang suddenly changed the subject, and his tone returned to its elegant and gentle tone, as if those chilling hints just now were just illusions.
But the envoys present knew that this sudden peaceful turn was the most terrifying. They had already seen how this "Crazy Su" could continue negotiations as if nothing had happened after killing someone.
"This cup of Longjing tea is produced by the West Lake in China," Su Zhengyang gently shook the teacup, "Tea farmers say that good tea requires patience. If you pick it too early, the tea will be bitter; if you pick it too late, the tea will be tasteless. Timing is very important."
Chesterfield and Silva clenched their fists at the same time. They both understood the meaning behind these words.
"The heat of tea leaves is also very particular," Su Zhengyang continued, his eyes flickering over Romanov, "Too much heat will damage the leaves, too little heat will make them taste bland. You have to find the right balance."
Zhang Luanyu stood aside and watched the changes in the expressions of these foreign envoys. Although they tried to maintain the reservedness of diplomats, their trembling fingers and rolling Adam's apples still exposed their inner fear.
"Everyone," Su Zhengyang raised his teacup with an unfathomable smile on his face, "Let's enjoy this rare tea time together. After all, in peacetime, there are not many opportunities to quietly taste tea like this."
The envoys mechanically raised their teacups, but no one dared to actually take a sip. This weird atmosphere was more disturbing than direct threats. They would rather face the "Crazy Su" who slammed the table and fired a gun at the negotiation table than Su Zhengyang who could make threats so elegantly.
"The tea has a rich aroma and a long aftertaste," Su Zhengyang took a sip, as if he was really just tasting tea, "Just like some historical issues, although they are temporarily shelved, there is always a time to savor them. Don't you agree, Duke Romanov?"
Romanov's hands shook even more.
"And the color of the tea," Su Zhengyang held the cup up to the light, "it's crystal clear, and it's easy to see what's inside. Just like the attitude of some people," he glanced meaningfully at Chesterfield and Silva, "you can see through it at a glance."
The entire banquet hall fell into a terrible silence. Only the scent of tea floated in the air, but this aroma made everyone present feel suffocated. They finally understood why this man was called "Crazy Su" - his terrifying thing was not only that he could shoot during negotiations, but also that he could express the most dangerous threats in the most elegant way.
"Come," Su Zhengyang raised his teacup, "a toast to peace."
The envoys raised their glasses in response with trembling hands, but everyone knew that the aroma of tea that night was already tainted with the smell of gunpowder.