Washington, D.C., USA.
It was Friday, April 26.
In the White House briefing room, Bill Clinton was holding his first personal press conference in two months since becoming embroiled in the Paula Jones case. The timing was perfect.
Today, reporters would not be asking about Kenneth Starr's latest discoveries or whether Clinton's recent use of a line-item veto was unconstitutional.
The frequency of presidential press conferences was largely left to the discretion of the sitting president. Clinton, a politician who excelled at managing his public image, understood the benefits of maintaining regular contact with the media. During his first two years in office, he held a monthly personal press conference, but in the past year or so, he had reduced the frequency to once every two months.
As camera shutters clicked, the first question came from a reporter at The Washington Post, just as Clinton had anticipated: "Mr. President, how would you assess Simon Westeros' recent trip to China?"
Clinton gave his practiced, affable smile and said, "This was a very significant business visit. Simon's discussions with the Chinese government will usher in a new era of economic cooperation between the United States and China. It's a win-win situation, as demonstrated by the surge in our stock market over the past week."
A very routine response.
The reporters thought so, too, as the second question turned more pointed: "Mr. President, China treated Simon Westeros with the same honors they would offer a head of state. Do you think that's appropriate?"
Many in the room watched closely for any subtle reaction in Clinton's expression.
But they were destined to be disappointed. The president's face remained perfectly composed. "China certainly treated Simon with great respect, but given his accomplishments, I believe it was warranted. And, as we all know, there is a clear difference between this and an official state visit. I hope no one tries to mislead the public by conflating the two."
"Mr. President, do you have any plans to visit China yourself? And if so, will your delegation be larger than Simon Westeros'?"
"No, I don't have any immediate plans. My first term has been focused on restoring the domestic economy. If possible, I hope to visit China during my second term," Clinton said with a slight smile before adding, "And as for the size of my delegation, I will aim to keep it cost-effective for the taxpayers."
"Mr. President, it's rumored that Simon Westeros' trip to China cost $12 million. Do you think this level of expenditure is excessive and wasteful?"
"I don't believe it was that much, and I'm not sure where you're getting your numbers, so I can't comment further."
Everyone in the room understood that the last two questions were somewhat provocative.
Simon's trip had undoubtedly been expensive. However, since the invitation had come from the Chinese government, the question of who was footing the bill was up for debate. Although Simon had deep pockets, he wasn't one to waste money unnecessarily. Moreover, if inviting Simon Westeros could bring such an economic boost, $12 million—or even ten times that—would be well worth it.
Another reporter stood up, still pressing: "Mr. President, will Simon Westeros' visit accelerate Washington's negotiations with China on its entry into the WTO?"
"No," Clinton replied decisively. "Our negotiations with China regarding their entry into the World Trade Organization are still in the early stages. The United States will proceed cautiously to ensure that the interests of the American people are fully protected."
"So, Mr. President, are you saying that China's entry into the WTO is inevitable, and the only question is the specific terms?"
"A market as large as China's, with 1.2 billion people, joining the WTO would benefit the entire world. I look forward to welcoming China into the organization, provided that it is done in a way that protects the interests of all member nations. But I must emphasize, nothing is guaranteed—it all depends on how China conducts itself in the negotiations."
"Mr. President, what's your opinion on the 'Westeros Effect' and the impact it's had on the stock markets in Asia?"
Clinton's expression shifted slightly, showing a hint of humor, but his words remained measured. "I've been aware of this for several years now. It's certainly intriguing. However, I believe this is merely an overreaction by the markets. The economies of our long-standing partners in Asia are strong and will continue to grow."
For nearly an hour, the questions focused on Simon's trip to China, and all were answered. Once the reporters began to steer the conversation toward less favorable topics, Clinton quickly wrapped up the press conference.
As he left the briefing room, a dark-haired, slightly plump White House intern approached him, handing him a file. "Mr. President, the Vice President is waiting for you in the Oval Office."
Clinton nodded and, taking advantage of her proximity, gave her a quick pat on the back and whispered, "Come see me after dinner."
The intern blushed slightly, glancing back to see two other White House staffers following them out of the briefing room, but they tactfully pretended not to notice the President's gesture. The intern, named Monica Lewinsky, quietly agreed, and they both made their way to the Oval Office.
The file Monica handed Clinton contained his latest approval ratings.
As they walked, Clinton multitasked, reviewing the report while mentally assessing whether any mistakes had been made during the press conference.
Everything seemed satisfactory.
Especially the approval numbers.
Kenneth Starr's investigation into the Paula Jones case had not dented Clinton's public support. In fact, it had the opposite effect. His approval rating had risen to 61.5%, the highest since he took office. With such strong support, as long as nothing drastic happened, reelection was virtually guaranteed.
Reelection—this was Clinton's top priority at the moment.
Everything else was secondary.
On another note, the report in his hand came from Ygritte's online survey data.
Unlike traditional polling companies, which relied on limited sampling and had higher margins of error, this online-based report was far more accurate. Clinton understood that the regular provision of these sensitive documents by the Westeros system was a reminder of the support he enjoyed.
Throughout the press conference, Clinton had been polished and composed.
However, deep down, it was impossible for him not to feel a pang of envy, or even jealousy, over Simon Westeros' grand visit to China. But Clinton's strong psychological resilience allowed him to dispel these negative emotions.
He knew it was pointless.
If he allowed these feelings to fester or turn into action, it would only bring him trouble.
From being the illegitimate child of a lower-class family to becoming the President of the United States, one of the most powerful people in the world, Clinton's journey had not been easy. His goal-oriented personality always kept him focused on what was necessary and what was not. This helped him avoid harboring unnecessary emotions.
Clinton knew that his primary focus had to be extending his influence as long as possible.
First, securing a second term.
Then, like the Bush family, turning the Clintons into a long-standing political dynasty.
To achieve this, he needed to rally all the resources at his disposal.
Therefore, as long as Simon Westeros could support his reelection and subsequent goals, everything else was secondary.
As for Simon's vast wealth and power, which no one else could match, envy was futile. Dwelling on it would only lead to feelings of powerlessness.
Upon entering the Oval Office, Vice President Al Gore greeted Clinton warmly. Noticing the black-haired intern who had followed them in, Gore discreetly furrowed his brow. Once she had served them both coffee and left, Gore spoke bluntly: "Bill, I've arranged for that intern to be transferred to the Department of Defense. What do you think?"
Clinton had just taken a sip of coffee and paused slightly before quickly nodding. "That's fine."
Even Gore had taken notice of the situation, signaling to Clinton that it was time to let go. If not, it could lead to unpredictable consequences. Though Clinton felt a twinge of discomfort at Gore's frankness, he agreed.
With that issue settled, Gore shifted the conversation to the day's main topic.
Once again, it involved Simon.
As of yesterday's market close, the Nasdaq Composite Index had soared to 3,697 points.
The last time, a coalition of influential parties had thwarted Simon's plan to curb the Nasdaq's rise. But now, the index's growth was becoming dangerously unchecked. In just two months, it had risen over 10%. If the Nasdaq collapsed before the November election, it could become a major problem.
Economic indicators were a critical factor in American elections. George Bush's defeat in 1992 was a prime example of how a weak economy could sink a campaign.
However, after discussing the matter for over ten minutes, neither man had any solutions.
Both couldn't help but think back to Simon Westeros' proposed strategy from two months ago—it had been correct. But, as was often the case, knowing the right course of action didn't make it any easier to implement. Sometimes, people would even oppose others from doing the right thing simply because of the prevailing trends.
Wall Street had already succumbed to a state of madness, and truthfully, the tools at the White House's disposal were no more effective, nor sophisticated, than what Simon Westeros had.
The most direct solution would be to do as Simon had suggested earlier in the year—push for a Federal Reserve interest rate hike.
But what then?
Raising interest rates was a dangerously unstable double-edged sword.
If they weren't careful, they might puncture the tech bubble entirely. In that case, it would be better to gamble and hope the Nasdaq could hold out until after the election.
Stumped for a moment,
Gore looked at Clinton and asked, "Where's Simon now?"
Clinton shook his head. "I don't know, but probably somewhere scenic in China."
"Maybe you should call him."
Clinton hesitated briefly before nodding. "I'll reach out soon."
He understood that the call wouldn't be to ask for advice—Simon had already offered suggestions, and not only had they been ignored, but his efforts had been blocked. No, this call was more about reassurance. It was a way of hoping Simon would tell them that the Nasdaq could hold out until after the election.
China, Yangshuo.
At the mountaintop estate near the banks of the Li River, it was late at night.
Over the past few days, Simon and Janet had left their entourage behind, quietly visiting the Great Wall on Wednesday and the Terracotta Army on Thursday. After all, these iconic landmarks were a must-see when visiting China. By Friday afternoon, they had flown from Guilin to Yangshuo.
Standing on the estate's terrace at dusk, surrounded by the towering karst mountains, Janet, despite having traveled the world and seen countless sights, was still awestruck by the breathtaking natural beauty.
"Guilin's scenery is the best under heaven."
It wasn't an exaggeration.
She was delighted, taking in the scenery until sunset, sampling local delicacies, and discussing weekend plans with Simon. Eventually, they retired to bed, where she coaxed Simon into reading from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, a book he had been enjoying recently. However, not long into the reading, Janet, unused to staying up late, fell asleep.
The entire journey had been aboard comfortable private planes, and Simon's physical condition far surpassed Janet's, so he wasn't tired at all.
Holding Janet, who was curled up like a cat beside him, Simon waited until she stopped mumbling in her sleep, then turned on the bedside lamp and continued reading the last few pages of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon while organizing his thoughts.
He had been keeping an eye on the aftermath of his two-day visit.
Aside from the chaotic stock market reactions in Japan, South Korea, and other Asian countries, nothing unexpected had occurred.
This was a good outcome.
As long as the week passed without further incident, the media frenzy would quickly die down.
Simon had always been aware of the potential risks, both political and economic, that this visit could pose. That's why, in addition to the large-scale, public nature of the trip, the Westeros family had made significant efforts behind the scenes to manage the narrative.
His goal was for the visit to ultimately be seen as a "win-win" for both sides.
At some point, Janet stirred, pressing closer to Simon and muttering sleepily. Smiling, Simon set down the book and turned off the lamp.
The next morning, they woke to a mist-covered landscape.
They were still in Jiangnan.
On the terrace of their mountaintop estate overlooking the town of Yangshuo and the surrounding peaks, Janet wore a traditional Chinese robe (hanfu) that had been delivered that morning. It was a very light shade of blue, with just a few delicate hand-embroidered details on the sleeves and front. The rest of the garment was left elegantly simple. Made from thick cotton rather than silk, it offered warmth in the cool mountain air.
After admiring herself in the mirror for a while, she insisted Simon wear a matching outfit.
Finally, they headed out to the terrace for breakfast.
Chen Qing, dressed in a fitted maid's hanfu of a pale green hue, knelt beside the low table, serving them. Her hanfu was tight-waisted, in contrast to the loose, flowing robes worn by Simon and Janet. It was a perfect display of her role as a servant, subtly reinforcing her position. Seeing Chen Qing in this attire, Simon wasn't surprised by how quickly she had endeared herself to Janet over the past few days. He couldn't help but admire her skill in navigating these relationships.
_________________________
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! $5 for all!!]
[w w w . p a t r e o n .com / INNIT]
[+50 PowerStones = +1 Chapter] [+5 Reviews = +1 Chapter]