"Please go this way, Count Ziano." Tysenhoven guided the Italian guests.

Walking down the empty corridor, Ziano couldn't help but feel uneasy. The crisp sound of Italian leather shoes on the solid hardwood floor shattered the silence of the hallway. Ziano's mind was chaotic, and only the sound of neat footsteps echoed in his ears.

The diplomatic envoy of the Kingdom of Italy worked hard to maintain his elegant demeanor, how to say that he was also a rich nobleman, and he received a rigorous aristocratic education from an early age, and the best thing for the Italian aristocracy was to show the best manners and demeanor at all times.

The Italian secretly cheered himself up, he was Count of Capri, Galeazzo. Ziano, who is not a wealthy man in the Milan countryside, has participated in countless high-level foreign affairs activities, and can be regarded as having a wide range of knowledge and broad vision, even if Hitler is in person, he can talk and laugh freely, how can he feel nervous because of an ordinary diplomatic courier activity. But then he realized that the self-deception that had been effective in the past had now lost its effect, and now he was more and more afraid of the upcoming meeting.

Count Ciano still looks good today, wearing a new Neapolitan suit, the gray fabric shines like a pearl, the stiff-collared shirt is tightly buttoned, a black tie is tied between the collar, and a bascist-style sterling silver belt is fastened on it, and the black trousers are straight, and the refined fabric makes it still crisp after a long journey, without any wrinkles.

The envoy carried a black cowhide briefcase with the Italian coat of arms, and inside it was the purpose of his mission, a letter written by Mussolini to the current dictator of Germany.

This was what frightened Ziano, he had no idea what was in the letter, but he could guess that it was definitely not something that would please the Germans. This is no joke, Ziano knows better than anyone the consequences of angering the Germans. Italy simply could not afford any form of retaliation from the Germanic barbarians.

Moreover, at present, the Germanic people have a brilliant record, arrogant and arrogant, and they seem to only use one means after thinking for a long time, that is, they will directly roll up their sleeves and come forward to subdue you alive.

The only thing Ziano could count on at the moment was the new German Führer, with a long reaction arc and an unusually endurance to ignore his father-in-law's usual cynicism, but judging from the German style of the Apostle of God, it seemed that what that man lacked most was the most basic demeanor towards those who angered him.

Ziano had many close friends in the Nazi Party in Germany, many of whom suddenly disappeared without warning. There were no clues afterwards, as if this person had never existed in the world, and it was clear that some forces had neatly disposed of most of the victims' imprints.

Ziano shuddered at the thought of the new Führer, who looked completely different from Hitler's style on the outside, but with the same vicious and meticulous methods, who always maintained the apostolic splendor in the eyes of the German people, and successfully concealed the soles of his blood-stained boots.

Ziano was very worried about Italy's current situation, and he had repeatedly exhorted Mussolini to maintain the sanity and sobriety that a national leader should have. But reality disappointed him again and again, and the new age Caesar would only indulge in the illusion of the glory of the Roman Empire.

Tysenhofen led Ziano to the end of the corridor, where there was an oak door decorated with cornflower motifs. In front of the door, on the left and right stood a soldier of the Flag Guard, dressed in a crisp black salute uniform. He also wore a silver wire trim on his right chest, wore a black M35 steel helmet on his head, and stood cross-legged with a 98K rifle in his hand.

Werler was standing in the doorway waiting when he saw Tysenhofen arrive. hurriedly greeted him.

"The Führer is waiting for you inside, Mr. Ziano." Verrle nodded solemnly to Ziano, and one of the Flag Guards turned around and opened the door.

Xu Jun did not choose to meet the envoy in his living room. Instead, I chose the hotel's meeting room. He decided to make the meeting as formal as possible, so that the Italians would not find the slightest gap afterwards.

The organization of the Nazi National Labor Agency is indisputable, and it is also at the forefront of its decoration taste, this meeting room was originally facing the high-level service of the Nazis, and the overall design pursues a high-end atmosphere, and everywhere reflects a Bavarian style of luxury and elegance.

This room is located at one end of the building, with tall glass windows on three sides, and now although it is approaching evening, the orange summer day still reflects the snow-white windowsill. The four walls of the room are covered with granite veneer, making it feel like entering a European castle.

The natural marble, which has been treated only with simple treatment, retains the shape it was in when it was first mined from the quarry, and is carefully stacked to form a fireplace according to its shape and size, adding a rugged and antique atmosphere to the room, just as the Germanic people thought of it.

The floor is covered with a thick wool carpet with patterns that should be from the Ottoman or more distant Tehran, and the intricate textures on them are reminiscent of the mysteries of the Orient.

In the middle of the conference room is a thick long table, without any carvings, only a layer of tree paint on the surface, which can clearly see through the amber lacquer surface The grain of the wood underneath can be clearly seen.

Xu Jun stood at this huge wooden table, wearing his gorgeous marshal's dress, holding the table with one hand slightly on the table, the other hand behind his back, looking at the Italian envoy who entered the door with a serious expression.

"Hey! Reinhart! Werler and Tysenhoven raised their arms in a loud greeting, and Himmler, who was standing by the window, and his lieutenant hurriedly echoed in loud voices.

Ziano had been thinking about what kind of etiquette to greet the German dictator when he saw him, but he didn't make a decision until he walked in.

This was the first time he had seen this apostle of God, although he had seen some photos and video materials, and thought that he was mentally prepared, but when he really saw himself and felt the indescribable aura emanating from the other party, his handsome and chic appearance, and his noble and majestic demeanor, Ziano found that his previous preparations were far from enough, and this apostle was more perfect than he imagined, especially those clear eyes, which seemed to be able to penetrate his soul.

"Your Excellency, it is a pleasure to meet you." Ziano reminded himself that he still had a mission, and he bowed slightly to Xu Jun.

"I'm glad to meet you, Count Ziano." Xu Jun stood still and didn't move, just nodded slightly to return the salute.

"I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye to you last time, because there is indeed an unexpected incident in the country. It is a great honour to finally meet the great new leader of Germany. Seeing Xu Jun's posture, Ziano's heart was half cold, the Germans must have noticed something, and his father-in-law may be embarrassed this time.

After all, he is a veteran rookie in the diplomatic world, and Ziano took the initiative to step forward and stretch out his hand to Xu Jun, at this time, he had to try to show goodwill, at least until he took out the damn letter, he could maintain the semblance of harmony.

"At that time, I was also on the front line to personally direct the battle, and I felt very sorry afterwards that I could not meet with the Prime Minister, please take a seat, Count Ziano." The corners of Xu Jun's mouth were slightly upturned, and he gave the other party a slightly stiff smile, and a stone in Ziano's heart fell to the ground, and it seems that this person should be the same as Hitler who eats soft and not hard.

"Thank you very much, Your Excellency the Führer." Determined to carry out the praise to the end, Ziano bowed respectfully to Xu Jun, and then sat down at the conference table at Xu Jun's signal.

"I don't know exactly what kind of problem there is between our two countries that would need to go beyond the Foreign Office to approach me directly, you should know, Monsieur Earl, that is not in accordance with diplomatic etiquette." Xu Jun slowly paced to the other side of the conference table and sat down facing Ziano.

Himmler and Weierle sat down next to Xu Jun's subordinates, and Tysenhofen and Himmler's adjutant stood behind Xu Jun with their chests held up. On the other hand, on Ziano's side, there was only the poor foreign minister. This made the scene look less like a diplomatic conference and more like a military tribunal conducting an investigative trial.

"I thought we could meet in a more private setting, Your Excellency the Führer. I bring with me a personal letter from the Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Italy to you. Ziano shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, then picked up the file bag and placed it on the table, he pulled out a fine silver chain from his pocket, and at the other end of the chain was a bunch of keys, Ziano picked one out of the keychain, and then inserted it into the keyhole in the locke of the briefcase.

"The Prime Minister has asked for this letter to be handed over to you by sunset today, and fortunately, I have managed to meet the deadline." Ziano took out a snow-white envelope from his briefcase and handed it to Xu Jun with both hands.

Xu Jun stretched out his hands and took the envelope, he carefully checked the appearance first, and it didn't seem to have been opened. The front of the envelope is blank, with no words written on it, and the back seal is stamped with Mussolini's personal fire paint seal. Xu Jun took the letter opener from Tysenhofen's hand, opened the envelope, and pulled out a densely written letter paper from it.

"Italian?" Xu Jun felt that Mussolini was becoming more and more childish, and even thought that setting up a language barrier was a victory. Jack's brain stored dozens of commonly used languages, and Xu Jun believed he was more fluent in Italian than Mussolini.

The problem is that the calligraphy of the big chin seems to be a little lacking, and it is obvious that the writer is in an abnormal state when the letter is written, and the handwriting on the letter is a little difficult to read.

Monthly passes, collections, recommended tickets, in addition to urging me to change, thank you for supporting this book, I will continue to work hard. (To be continued......)