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When I returned to the main hall, Doctor Dike greeted me immediately.
“It seems your conversation went on for quite a while.
Did it go well?”
“Thanks to your consideration, I had a very meaningful discussion.
I appreciate the opportunity.”
“Not at all.
When people get older, they tend to enjoy helping promising young men.
If you can take something valuable from this, that is enough for me.”
Then he grabbed my arm and started leading me somewhere else.
“While you were in the annex, another guest arrived who wished to meet you.”
“Again?”
Another one?
Please, just let it be someone from the Democrats this time.
Of course, even the Democratic Party of this era was still dominated by conservative Southern influence.
Woodrow Wilson had not yet reshaped it, and Franklin Roosevelt’s reforms were still decades away.
Even so, politically, I trusted them slightly more for my future plans.
But the person waiting for me was clearly not a Democrat.
“Well then, it is always pleasant to see young people gathered like this.”
Another woman.
Around my age.
But what stood out more than her elegant dress was her appearance.
“Hello, I have heard a lot about you.
My name is Rosamond Song.”
Chinese, most likely.
Meeting a Chinese woman at a Kansas party was certainly unexpected.
“Nice to meet you.
I am Eugene Kim.”
“And your Korean name?”
“Kim Yujin.
Eugene is simply the English form.”
“That is interesting.
My real name is Soong Ching-ling.
You may call me whichever you prefer.”
Soong Ching-ling.
The name rang a faint bell.
Doctor Dike added,
“She studies at Wesleyan College.
Her father is quite progressive and sent all three of his daughters abroad for education.”
I decided to test a guess.
“Would your father happen to be Charlie Soong?”
“You know of him?
Yes, I am his second daughter.”
Now I knew exactly who she was.
Charlie Soong was a major businessman and a supporter of Sun Yat-sen.
His daughters would later become central figures in modern Chinese history.
But why was she here, speaking to me?
Doctor Dike left us alone.
“… ” Get faster updates on g.com.
“… ”
An awkward silence followed.
I could talk comfortably with older men, but speaking to a woman my age felt strangely difficult.
“You do not speak much, do you?”
“Not at all.
It is simply that meeting an Asian lady of such grace in America leaves me unsure how to begin.”
That was a direct hit.
She smiled faintly.
“How do you know my father?”
“He is already a well-known figure.
Anyone seeking success in America should at least know the names of influential figures.”
“So no personal connection.”
“Of course not.”
Then she handed me a folded letter.
“This is why I came.”
I glanced around before opening it.
Dense English handwriting filled the page.
“This is from Doctor Rhee Syngman to your father?”
She nodded.
“It is better we speak here rather than move elsewhere.”
I replied in Chinese.
Her eyes flickered with interest.
“You speak Chinese well.”
“Growing up in San Francisco, one learns several languages.”
“Then I will be direct.
My father is interested in your idea about firearms development.”
“…Even without knowing any details?”
“That is not the point.
This is not simply a business investment.
It is an investment in you and in the Korean community.”
So that was it.
A gesture of cooperation.
“Then you could simply run the business yourselves.”
“That is not the objective.”
Of course it was not.
She summarized the offer clearly.
Chinese engineers could be provided.
A small factory in San Francisco could be made available.
Funding for prototypes and initial production could be arranged.
It was too good.
Far too good.
Accepting meant tying myself to Charlie Soong.
Rejecting meant losing a massive opportunity.
“If I accept this, I become dependent on your father.”
“That is one way to see it.”
I exhaled slowly.
“I will need time to think.”
“That is fine.
Send me a letter.”
After she left, I felt tension finally release from my shoulders.
Meeting Charles Curtis had been nothing like this.
This felt suffocating.
Then.
“Interesting conversation for two young people.”
I flinched.
Turning around, I saw Charles Curtis standing there, with his daughter Dorothy beside him.
T/N: Dorothy is OC.
“My apologies for interrupting.”
“No, sir.”
“Would you mind keeping Dorothy company for a while?”
…Again?
I had no way out.
“Of course.”
Dorothy smiled.
“Shall we have a dance?”
“Certainly.”
At least she seemed gentle.
We danced and talked for a while before stepping outside.
I barely remembered what we talked about, thanks to the wine.
But she seemed amused.
“By the way, what was your relationship with that Asian lady earlier?”
“We only met today.
It was related to a business proposal.”
Her eyes lit up.
“And what kind of business?”
I hesitated, then answered vaguely.
“I am considering developing firearms.”
“That is quite ambitious.”
She quickly summarized.
“So you want money, reputation, and influence among Koreans.”
…Sharp.
I nodded.
“Then why hesitate?”
“Because it involves cooperation with Chinese investors.”
“And Koreans accept that?”
That question struck me hard.
“…No.
They would criticize it.”
“Then your answer is clear.”
Damn it.
I had overlooked the most important issue.
If I accepted, it could later be used against me within the Korean community.
“Thank you.
That helped.”
“You are welcome.
Shall we continue talking?”
“Of course.”
She led me back toward the annex.
One of the worst decisions of my life.