Chen Ke had visited the Forbidden City as a traveler in the 1980s. To a child, the Dragon Throne had indeed felt too hard. He had no special feeling toward the thing itself; after all, it was just a chair. It was humanity that bestowed status upon the chair, not the chair that bestowed power upon humanity.

Facing the group of dumbstruck comrades, Chen Ke smiled and said, "Comrades, once we fight our way into Beijing in the future, I plan to turn the Forbidden City into a museum and open it to the whole of China. Everyone will have the chance to wander through it and even sit on the Dragon Throne."

This was Chen Ke's honest thought. At 21st-century consumption levels, if he charged ten yuan per minute, and offered an average of 200 minutes a day, he could pull in 2,000 yuan. That would be over seven hundred thousand a year. Those willing to pay dozens of yuan to see the Forbidden City wouldn't mind paying another ten or twenty for the experience. It was definitely a profitable business.

"Chairman Chen, sitting on the Dragon Throne is what an emperor does," Li Mingren said with a forced smile.

"That's where you're wrong," Chen Ke corrected him. Having let the truth slip, any attempt to smooth it over would be improper. The only thing left was to pull the comrades' thinking toward his own. "The Manchu Tatar Emperor is finished now, isn't he? I don't know if that little guy Puyi still sits on the Dragon Bed every day, but even if he does, what meaning does it have? Can he continue to be Emperor? Or will the world still see him as such? Yuan Shikai hasn't moved into the Forbidden City or sat on the Dragon Throne, yet he is still the President."

Hearing this, the status of the Dragon Bed and the Forbidden City in the minds of the young People's Party comrades plummeted. Whether one occupied the Forbidden City, sat on the Dragon Throne, or even held the title of Emperor was no longer important. The current Manchu imperial family was a living example.

"In the future, China will have no more emperors. Turning the Forbidden City into a museum is the most appropriate course. Once we have liberated all of China, that is exactly what we will do," Chen Ke laughed.

"Chairman Chen, are we truly going to liberate the entire country in the future?" Huang Yuyue seized the opportunity to ask.

"Of course. The fall of the Manchu Qing is merely a landmark event in the previous stage of the revolution. For us in the People's Party, the revolution has only just begun. You must all continue to work hard. Everyone, hurry and商量 (deliberate) to draw up a list of people you intend to visit, and then go and see them individually," Chen Ke said.

Chen Tianhua knew the time was right and spoke up at the perfect moment. "Next, I will show you the intelligence materials we have gathered on the Beiyang officials. This is confidential information. Once you've read it, do not spread it outside."

Once work was back on track, any chance to ask Chen Ke about his connection to the Forbidden City was gone. At the very least, the workload was considerable. After several thick stacks of documents were brought into the room, the young comrades were intimidated by the sheer volume of data.

As for whether Chen Ke had sat on the Dragon Throne, Chen Tianhua didn't care at all. To him, Chen Ke was the leader of the People's Party and consistently adhered to its revolutionary program; that was enough. As Chen Ke had said, this was no longer the era of imperial rule. No one could reverse this trend—not even Chen Ke.

As the young comrades began flipping through the documents, Chen Tianhua pulled Chen Ke outside. Chen Ke thought Chen Tianhua was going to ask about the Forbidden City, but instead, Chen Tianhua asked, "Chairman Chen, do you not think highly of Yuan Shikai?"

"Xingtai, in matters of diplomacy, we only learn the other party's specific reactions through constant contact. Whether Yuan Shikai will accept our suggestions, or what his intentions truly are, cannot be discovered through guesswork." Turning to work, Chen Ke regained his usual orderly manner.

Chen Tianhua nodded slightly. "I saw the plan you gave to the British. Why do I feel, Wenqing, that you view the foreign devils so favorably?"

Chen Ke laughed. "I've said this many times: the foreign devils travel ten thousand li to China for the sake of wealth. And we currently need to do business with them. Business is business; there's no need to speak lies. This is the current foreign economic policy of our People's Party."

Chen Tianhua found this hard to accept. "Publicly stating our position like this is like handing over our bottom line in advance. Won't our negotiating opponents go straight for that bottom line?"

"Contradictions and struggle are inevitable. In many cases, having to resort to coercive means—even military means—is also inevitable. Xingtai, negotiation and making peace are two different things. Negotiation is simply a way to openly express one's stance, not a way to solve the problem."

"If that is the case, then there is no problem." Once he was certain that Chen Ke had not relinquished the idea of military struggle, Chen Tianhua was completely at ease.

Yuan Shikai was truly shocked when he received news that the People's Party delegation was active everywhere, visiting central officials and National Assembly representatives in Beijing. At this critical moment, rather than continuing to cooperate with him, the People's Party was instead lobbying and campaigning everywhere. What exactly were they planning?

That news was still within Yuan's tolerance, but when he learned that Chen Ke had gone to Dongjiaomin Lane (Legation Street) to visit the various foreign legations, he knew Chen Ke had seen through his plans. Yuan Shikai paced back and forth in his room before telling an attendant, "Summon Zhao Bingjun."

Chen Ke knew that visiting the various legations would cause problems, but that wouldn't make him change his plans. Regardless, diplomacy was diplomacy. And speaking of Republic-era diplomacy, one had to mention Dongjiaomin Lane.

Dongjiaomin Lane was an old street. During the Yuan Dynasty, it and Xijiaomin Lane on the west side of the square were connected as a single hutong called "Jiangmi Lane." Because it housed the tax office and customs for grain transported via the canal into the capital during the Yuan Dynasty, it became a bottleneck for transporting grain from the south to the north, hence the name. Outside the east wall of the capital of the Great Yuan, there was a waterway. In 1292, the Tonghui River was excavated to connect the Grand Canal. At that time, grain transport ships moored directly in the Chuanban Hutong area outside the city. People unloaded and sold grain on the spot, thus forming a grain market street.

After China's defeat in the Second Opium War in 1860, the Treaty of Tianjin signed by the Qing government with Britain, France, America, and Russia stipulated that the British envoy formally move into the Prince Chun Mansion in East Jiangmi Lane in March 1861. The French envoy moved into the Prince An Mansion. The American envoy occupied the private residence of an American citizen, Dr. S. S. Williams. The Russian envoy occupied the Russian House, an Orthodox church built there in the early Qing.

Subsequently, the legations of various countries all chose the Dongjiaomin Lane area as their sites. By the time of the Boxer Rebellion in 1900, there were legations for France, Japan, America, Germany, Belgium, the Netherlands, and many other countries. When the rebellion broke out, as a gathering place for foreigners in the late Qing, Dongjiaomin Lane became a primary target of attack. A nursery rhyme of the time went: "Eating noodles without vinegar, shelling Xishiku; eating noodles without sauce, shelling Jiaomin Lane." The former referred to the Xishiku Cathedral at the foot of the western imperial wall, and the latter to Dongjiaomin Lane. After the Boxer Rebellion in 1900, according to the Boxer Protocol, East Jiangmi Lane was renamed Legation Street. In maps drawn by the Chinese, it was formally renamed Dongjiaomin Lane and became a legation quarter managed by the various legations themselves. Of the Qing government offices on this street, only the Ministries of Personnel, Revenue, and Rites, and the Imperial Clan Court remained; the rest were moved out. Subsequently, foreign banks such as HSBC and the Chartered Bank of the UK, the Russo-Asiatic Bank of Russia, the Yokohama Specie Bank of Japan, the Deutsch-Asiatische Bank of Germany, and the Banque de l'Indochine of France appeared here, along with French post offices, hospitals, and numerous Western-style buildings. This legation quarter was preserved after the Xinhai Revolution until 1937, when the Second Sino-Japanese War broke out and diplomats from the Axis powers, except Germany and Italy, were handed over to the National Government.

The important entities on this street were those foreign banks; it was they who supported the economic presence of the foreign devils in the Far East.

"This street is truly inferior to Wuhan," Chen Tianhua remarked. The urban planning of Wuhan had been led by Chen Ke, and it was filled with the flavor of 21st-century Chinese economic development zones. At least from the models and renderings, it was clearly evident—wide roads, hard pavement, drains covered with concrete slabs, and broad green belts on both sides of the streets. In the empty spaces cordoned off by these roads were residential communities. It looked grand and formidable. Chen Tianhua and Chen Ke had visited Dongjiaomin Lane before, and at that time, they hadn't felt the street was particularly poor; looking at it now, it seemed narrow and cluttered.

Chen Ke did not share that thought. The last time he came here was for a cocktail party at the German Legation; it was at that same party that he first spoke formally with his wife, He Ying. Thinking of this, Chen Ke smiled. What he spoke of, however, was something else. "Wang Bin will be returning home soon. What do you think of letting him temporarily take charge of diplomacy?"

Chen Tianhua had dealt with Wang Bin quite a bit in 1905, but he had no idea to what extent Wang Bin could handle diplomacy. "Actually, for true diplomacy, I feel Mr. Song Jiaoren would be more appropriate."

In Chen Tianhua's view, Wang Bin was not truly a revolutionary. In contrast, Chen Tianhua hoped the People's Party would restore contact with Song Jiaoren.

"Our People's Party is an extremely exclusive organization. In the future, the other revolutionary parties will, in a sense, all be our enemies." Chen Ke's reply was rather blunt and simple, but there was no other way. This issue had long been discussed in a systematic way in the Party Constitution: "All comrades who voluntarily join the People's Party must, before joining our ranks, break all ties with those parties and groups that run counter to our program."

This was the theoretical basis for the "political background investigation" that many people criticized. But it was also the core foundation for ensuring the People's Party's survival. The People's Party stated clearly in its own program: "We do not want those who eat from our pot but secretly serve another."

Chen Ke's carriage stopped once again at the gates of the German Legation. It was very impolite to visit an embassy unannounced. According to foreign custom, one had to wait for the foreigners to invite you to the legation. And the first to send Chen Ke an invitation was the German Ambassador.