"Matsudaira-kun, I hear that Yuan Shikai has placed Yuan Keding under house arrest. And in the past few days, he has been preparing to invite Yan Fu to serve as Premier. Are the North and South truly going to have peace talks?" Japanese Minister Ijuin Hikokichi asked. Opposite him was First Counselor Matsudaira Tsuneo. On the table between them were a bottle of mulberry wine and some pickled fish. They were talking about the recent situation while sipping their drinks.

Matsudaira Tsuneo hailed from the Aizu-Matsudaira family, being the sixth son of Matsudaira Katamori, the former Lord of the Aizu Domain and Protector of Kyoto. His mother was Katamori's concubine. He had studied at the Gakushūin since childhood and later married the fourth daughter of Nabeshima Naohiro, the Lord of the Saga Domain (one of the four powerful domains of the Bakumatsu era). After graduating from the Faculty of Law at Tokyo Imperial University in 1902, he entered the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He was a genuine scion of a Japanese noble house and a bona fide law graduate. Even as the Minister, Ijuin was quite polite toward him.

"If they truly intended to have peace talks, why would they invite Yan Fu to be Premier?" Matsudaira Tsuneo replied without letting his status affect his manners. He respectfully poured a cup of wine for Minister Ijuin and, after kneeling back in his place, continued, "The conflict between North and South is merely a matter of time. Or rather, it all depends on the relationship between Yuan Shikai and Chen Ke. If these two lose their mutual trust, war will break out immediately."

The Japanese were experts in internal strife and saw these issues very clearly.

"From the current situation, it seems that both Yuan Shikai and Chen Ke are doing their best to avoid conflict. Both are capable of controlling their subordinates, which is a cause for concern back home. I recently heard from the British and French embassies that they are working hard to find out the secret treaty reached between Yuan Shikai and Chen Ke." Ijuin looked somewhat worried.

That a long-term secret treaty existed between Yuan Shikai and Chen Ke was a consensus among the foreign ministers in China. As for the contents of this "Yuan-Chen Secret Treaty," there were many conflicting reports. Generally, the various ministers believed that currently, Yuan Shikai was holding the front in public while Chen Ke was responsible for doing the dirty work.

It was not unusual for two opposing sides to be entangled behind the scenes. In Europe, America, and Japan, this was commonplace. Facing such a situation, all the nations hoped to turn the current tide.

Generally speaking, between two conflicting parties, it was usually the side in the "rebel" position that desperately sold out the country, while the official government organization shouted about national interests. Now, the situation was completely reversed: the People's Party, in their rebel position, treated foreign intervention with a mix of extreme tact and firmness, while the central government was quite ambiguous in this regard.

This situation was very thorny, unless Yuan Shikai, like the former Manchu Qing government, completely cast aside his pride and sought foreign help to deal with the People's Party. Otherwise, if the foreign governments wanted to attack the People's Party, they would have to jump out and do it themselves. The People's Party's only outlet to the sea was Lianyungang. The Yangtze was an inland river that large warships couldn't enter, and on such a long waterway, there was always the risk of an ambush.

One of the crimes for which the Qing had been overthrown was "betraying the country." Yuan Shikai was clearly unwilling to bear such a reputation by using foreign powers to suppress the People's Party. And launching a punitive expedition against Yuan Shikai's central government because of the People's Party would not achieve their goal either. Unless Yuan Shikai truly wanted to be a "traitor," he would never agree to it, even if he had to flee Beijing. Furthermore, there was the "Yuan-Chen Secret Treaty" that all the ministers believed existed. If Beiyang and the People's Party set aside their differences and united against a powerful external pressure, things would be very difficult to handle.

"We must make the contradictions between these two parties public," Matsudaira Tsuneo said, stating his thoughts directly. Ijuin frowned slightly—not because he disagreed, but because Matsudaira's bluntness didn't quite fit the traditional Japanese "haragei" (belly talk) mode of communication.

However, it wasn't a big problem. Ijuin smiled. "I see that the various ministers have this thought; that's why everyone is so polite toward Yuan Keding."

Sometimes, a contradiction doesn't require the top leaders themselves to have a falling out. "The situation" refers to the overall layout and trend. The reason the "Yuan-Chen Secret Treaty" was a secret was surely because both major powers had a large number of internal opponents. There were many opponents within the Beiyang clique—not just Yuan Keding, who was being manipulated by the various ministers. In truth, there were no high-ranking Beiyang officials who favored the People's Party.

On the other hand, the People's Party was more troublesome. In official contacts, People's Party cadres never met foreigners in groups of fewer than three. It was as if they had undergone mandatory training; everyone's words were exactly the same. Furthermore, this rising power enforced strict control over population movement in their territory. Under this quasi-military control, white spies—whose appearances were vastly different from the Chinese—went without saying, but even Japanese intelligence officers, who were also of the yellow race, would disappear like stones in the ocean shortly after entering the base areas. After several disappearances, Japan had to lower its pride and use various channels to find the People's Party, asking them to investigate the missing Japanese citizens. The People's Party replied that any foreigner who had correctly registered with their customs had never gone missing. Forced into a corner, Japan had to admit that some people "might have lost their way."

The People's Party then gave the Japanese representatives a thorough lesson on their own *Customs Law*. This infuriated the Japanese. However, Japan was not currently prepared for war against the People's Party, so these matters didn't become public knowledge.

"I see that Yuan Keding desperately wants to remove Chen Ke and is willing to use any means necessary," Matsudaira Tsuneo said.

This was still too direct, but Ijuin no longer minded. He wasn't worried about Yuan Keding sending someone to assassinate Chen Ke; whether the assassination succeeded or failed didn't matter. What was important was to make the assassination attempt known to the whole world. If such an effect could be achieved, Yuan Shikai would either have to go to war directly with the People's Party or take responsibility for the act. Regardless of the choice, China's current situation would be completely shattered.

"We only need to pay attention to this matter," Ijuin said. If something could be accomplished by giving Yuan Keding a few hints at the critical moment, there was no need to get personally involved. It was far from the stage where Japan had to go into the fray itself. Furthermore, Japan had just annexed Korea and had countless internal matters to attend to; in many respects, Japan lacked the capacity even if it had the will.

Of course, there was no need to state these things explicitly; Ijuin believed Matsudaira Tsuneo had at least this much basic judgment.

"This mulberry wine is quite good," Ijuin praised after drinking another glass of the specialty wine from the base areas. "The fish is also good; the spices are well-blended."

Both of these products were commodities from the People's Party base areas. Setting aside the wine and fish, at least the glass bottles were very well-made.

While they were talking, an embassy staff member entered with a telegram. After reading it, Ijuin showed a mysterious smile. "Those people back home have started supporting the Tongmenghui again."

***

Wang Jingwei had never imagined he would become the negotiator between the Tongmenghui and the Japanese minister to China. This was the first time he had been entrusted with such a significant task. Wang Jingwei was truly pleasantly surprised. Ever since the Tongmenghui had begun its revolution during the Qing era, the Japanese government had always been polite to it while maintaining a respectful distance. After Yuan Shikai seized central power, the Japanese government had adopted an attitude of indifference toward the Tongmenghui. But by 1911, it had started supporting them once again.

However, the Tongmenghui had now truly become a party led by Sun Yat-sen alone. The Guangfu Society had returned to Zhejiang, and the Huaxing Society had returned to Hunan. Renowned figures from other regions were also leaving. After all, it was now a republic, and with a system of provincial self-governance, local governments needed some new faces to fill out the ranks. These famous revolutionaries were the best choice. Giving them a few seats as parliamentarians or a few official posts allowed the provinces to claim they "supported reform and the republic."

Given Sun Yat-sen's reputation, he shouldn't have had any problem becoming a parliamentarian in Guangdong. However, a problem had arisen. The new Nationality Law stipulated that the new Chinese government did not recognize dual citizenship. Anyone who had ever obtained a foreign nationality could not be considered a Chinese citizen.

In the eyes of the Guangfu Society, this regulation was clearly aimed at Sun Yat-sen. At least until 1909, Sun Yat-sen had held American citizenship. In particular, in November 1908, during his visit to Siam (Thailand), he gave speeches to the overseas Chinese community, promoting revolution and the overthrow of the Qing, which led the Qing court to protest to the Siamese authorities. The Mayor and Police Chief of Bangkok summoned Sun Yat-sen and ordered him to leave. Sun immediately stated he would give his answer after consulting his minister. When asked who the minister was, he refused to answer and left.

Sun Yat-sen then went straight to the American Legation to see Minister Hamilton King, requesting protection and the issuance of an American passport (different from the territorial Hawaiian passport), on the grounds that he was born in Hawaii. During the meeting, Minister King had a good impression of Sun Yat-sen and reported to the State Department: "Sun speaks English very well, though with a slight accent. He is very intelligent and extremely polite..."

Sun Yat-sen couldn't wait for a reply from the State Department before leaving Bangkok; he moved to Singapore on December 10, leaving his address there for Minister King.

The US State Department spent several months studying Sun Yat-sen's case. Finally, on March 11, 1909, Secretary of State Elihu Root (who had left office in January; the decision on Sun's case had likely been made during his tenure) notified Minister King that Sun Yat-sen was not eligible for registration as a US citizen or for an American passport. The reason was: "American citizens enjoy rights, but they also have responsibilities and obligations. He (referring to Sun) has not only failed to fulfill the obligations of an American citizen but has instead fully committed himself to Chinese politics. What's more, he is a leader advocating for the overthrow of a government with which this government has friendly relations." Based on these reasons, Sun Yat-sen's US citizenship was revoked and his passport canceled.

This hadn't been particularly private. When Beiyang convened the National Assembly to discuss the fate of the Manchu Qing, major newspapers began publishing articles about Sun Yat-sen's nationality. "Sun Yat-sen the American" became a topic of conversation over tea and meals for many. Even after his citizenship was revoked by the US, Sun Yat-sen had not returned to China to request the restoration of his Chinese nationality, nor had he published a statement in the newspapers. Thus, according to the new Nationality Law in the base areas, Sun Yat-sen was now an unregistered person with no nationality.

The Guangdong provincial government had originally intended to invite Sun Yat-sen to return as a parliamentarian, but after this stir, they understood the intentions of the Beiyang central government. They were naturally unwilling to offend the Beiyang government for the sake of one man. More importantly, the new Nationality Law required foreigners applying for Chinese citizenship to go to Beijing for approval by the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Civil Affairs. This meant that no matter how grand Sun Yat-sen's political goals were, if he wanted to be a Chinese citizen, he first had to go to Beijing and submissively apply to Beiyang.

Sun Yat-sen was naturally unwilling to do so, but Beiyang had found a way to deal with him. Any newspaper with a pro-Beiyang stance would, from then on, often use the term "Sun Yat-sen the American" to mock him whenever he was mentioned.

This put Sun Yat-sen at a great disadvantage. Being mocked by Beiyang was one thing, but none of the leaders of the domestic revolutionary parties—the People's Party, the Guangfu Society, or the Huaxing Society—had ever been "foreign citizens." This incident caused Sun Yat-sen's influence among the domestic revolutionary parties to decline further.

Setting aside the Huaxing Society, which was currently at war with the Hunan authorities, the leaders of the Guangfu Society—the first to break away from the Tongmenghui—such as Cai Yuanpei, Tao Chengzhang, and Qiu Jin, had been formally elected as parliamentarians in Zhejiang. The local parliamentarians of several counties in southern Zhejiang also came from the ranks of the Guangfu Society. Cai Yuanpei had even been elected as a representative to the new National Assembly for Zhejiang Province. This meant that in the future, the voice of the Guangfu Society would rightfully appear in the National Assembly.

Just when they were at their wits' end, the Japanese government's renewed support gave the Tongmenghui a chance to catch its breath—at least financially. Many people had left the Tongmenghui, which wasn't just a loss of manpower; more seriously, fewer and fewer people were providing financial support. One must return a favor. After Sun Yat-sen completed negotiations with Japan, Wang Jingwei was sent by him to negotiate with the Japanese minister in China—or rather, to receive instructions.

"Mr. Wang, do you know who provided the part of the Nationality Law for Yuan Shikai's government?" Matsudaira Tsuneo asked.

"I truly don't know." At the mention of this Nationality Law, Wang Jingwei was filled with anger. If it weren't for this law, the Tongmenghui wouldn't have suffered such a heavy blow. After speaking, he asked tentatively, "Could it be the American government?"

"Hehe," Matsudaira Tsuneo laughed. "It wasn't provided by the American government. It was a bill provided by the People's Party to Beiyang."

This was like a thunderclap that left Wang Jingwei stunned. Matsudaira didn't give him time to digest the news. "A piece of information has been circulating in diplomatic circles: there is a secret treaty called the 'Yuan-Chen Agreement' between the People's Party and the Beiyang government. China's current situation is not as everyone sees it—pushed forward by the various revolutionary parties shedding their blood. Chen Ke and Yuan Shikai have long since reached an agreement on behalf of the People's Party and Beiyang. They joined hands to put on this play for everyone."

"They have a common enemy..."

"They have adopted remarkably consistent measures to support one another in various areas..."

"Why did the People's Party release the Beiyang prisoners of war and senior generals?..."

"Why has there been no combat between the People's Party and Beiyang since then?..."

"Why was Hebei turned upside down by horse bandits?..."

"Why..."

One by one, Matsudaira Tsuneo laid out the points. As a diplomat, his channels for obtaining intelligence and his ability to process it far exceeded those of the Tongmenghui.

"Wang-kun, all the young people who once believed Chen Ke was a revolutionary have been deceived by him. And I believe you are well aware of one thing: it was Yuan Shikai who acted as the matchmaker for Chen Ke. Furthermore, we recently received news that Yuan Shikai is preparing to invite Yan Fu to serve as Premier. Yan Fu is Chen Ke's teacher and a close friend of Yuan Shikai. Moreover, the grandfather of Chen Ke's wife, Old Mr. He, was a close friend of both Yuan Shikai and Yan Fu. When Old Mr. He was alive, Yuan Shikai and Yan Fu often gathered at his home..."

At all times, facts are more persuasive than any deduction—especially facts that have been carefully edited and selected under conditions of strong suggestion.

Listening to Matsudaira's words, Wang Jingwei unconsciously clenched his fists. He squeezed so hard that his knuckles turned white.