"Gentlen, please co to my private office for a chat before the banquet. There's sothing I would like to discuss with you two."
After the ceremony, President Hafez extended the invitation.
As they walked down the corridor to the office, an aide hurriedly approached, whispering a few words in the president's ear.
President Hafez's brow furrowed quickly, a hint of annoyance montarily passing, but he quickly regained his composure, showing an apologetic expression to Song Heping and his companion: "I am very sorry, but there's an urgent international call regarding an unexpected situation at the northern front that I must attend to imdiately. Please wait here for a mont, I will be back shortly."
He then followed the aide briskly toward the adjacent secure communications room.
Song Heping and the Chef stood quietly in the corridor adorned with luxurious Isfahan carpets.
At that mont, a beautifully carved walnut door nearby opened slightly, and a handso boy along with a younger girl with large, bright eyes peeked out, cautiously observing the strangers who carried a battlefield aura.
Both children were dressed in clean, tidy Western-style casual wear, their eyes clear, exuding a shyness and politeness fostered under good upbringing.
The boy seed to muster the courage to softly ask Song Heping in fluent English, "Excuse , sir... Are you... from China?"
Song Heping was sowhat surprised; encountering children at the heart of power was unexpected, and even more so was the question.
He nodded and replied in English, "Yes, I am."
The girl's eyes lit up instantly, seemingly pleased to have her assumption confird, she whispered sothing to her brother, and then shyly said in English, "Our father said that China is a great and very safe country. We are going to study in Beijing very soon!"
Song Heping was genuinely surprised this ti.
He suddenly understood.
These two children were probably President Hafez's own.
In the midst of war tumult, sending one's young children far away to another country for education might reflect a father's worry, helplessness, and ultimate desire for absolute safety.
It's a foresighted arrangent based on worst-case scenarios, a parent's most instinctive choice in chaotic tis.
"Beijing is a very good city, very safe. You will like it there."
Song Heping's tone unconsciously softened as he added in Chinese, "Welco."
The two children, hearing Chinese, showed shy yet happy smiles.
Song Heping's heart was filled with emotion, a wave of complex feelings surged within.
Nothing brings her children more ingrained security and dignity than a stable, peaceful, strong motherland.
Regardless of where one finds oneself, facing whatever peril, having a flourishing nation that can protect its citizens behind them is the greatest reassurance.
At this mont, he felt a more concrete, profound sense of recognition and value for his past military career.
Just then, President Hafez returned, a lingering seriousness on his face from handling urgent matters, but his gaze softened instantly upon seeing his children, revealing an undeniably fatherly warm smile.
He spoke softly in Arabic to the children, likely telling them not to disturb the guests. The children nodded obediently, casting a curious last glance at Song Heping before gently closing the door.
"My children, they are filled with curiosity and longing for East University."
The president explained simply, with a barely noticeable touch of warmth and helplessness, then swiftly regained his composure, leading Song Heping and the Chef into his spacious, grand office filled with books and maps.
Inside the office, heavy mahogany shelves were lined with books in various languages, ranging from dical treaties to political history.
On the wall hung large military maps of Siria and surrounding regions, densely annotated with symbols.
After settling down, President Hafez's exhaustion beca more evident as he rubbed his brow, bypassing formal diplomatic language and pleasantries, he directly addressed the main issue, his tone heavy and sincere:
"Mr. Song, Colonel Yevgeny, you are true warriors of our nation and people, extending invaluable help in our most perilous monts. This friendship, Siria will always rember. However..."
His tone shifted, his voice becoming deeper.
"The current situation remains extrely severe, even reaching a new critical danger point. The southern line at Halaib and the eastern line at Dehuk have temporarily stabilized thanks to your struggles. But in the north, Idlib..."
He stood up, walking to the map, pointing to a vast region in the north.
"...HTS and the multitude of other terrorist groups are converging there like a plague, receiving continuous external funding and weapon supplies, their offensives rising wave after wave. Our elite troops are bleeding and sacrificing there, with brave soldiers dying every day, the defensive line under imnse pressure."
He turned around, gazing heavily at Song Heping and his companion, even allowing a almost palpable anxiety to show.
"Once Idlib's strategic buffer is completely lost, allowing their main forces to head south, Homs' gateway will be left wide open... The consequences would be disastrous, not only a military defeat but also potentially triggering a political chain collapse. I... am imnsely concerned about this."
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