Early the next morning, Zhu Wencong hosted a banquet in the dining room to entertain Russian merchants. He didn't like them but didn't completely dislike them either.
Everyone would become their own chess piece; this was Zhu Wencong's goal: to become the hand that plays chess.
Previously, relying on America to unite with small Western countries to counter Anglo-French capital was somewhat strenuous; now, drawing the Russians into the fray would be sufficient to crush Anglo-French capital.
"Your Majesty! We didn't say anything foolish yesterday, did we?" Smirnov asked weakly.
"You didn't say anything foolish; you merely mentioned a plan to help more people in need!" Zhu Wencong deliberately paused.
Zhu Wencong turned to the Russian merchants: "Agubai has occupied the entire Western Regions, causing the local populace to despise and hate him extremely. You talked about wanting to help them!
