Chapter 321: The Absolute Problem Solver
“Professor, the reason we’re willing to sign the peace agreement is largely due to our trust in you,” Kosygin said frankly.
“Although Comrade Korolev has passed away, Comrade Korolev always held you in the highest regard. He always hoped we could persuade you to come to Moscow to work.
Even when you both participated in that face-to-face program together, and you angrily denounced Moscow’s actions toward Yanjing right in front of him, we saw it as a choice driven by national sentiment, which further proves you are a true pacifist.”
Both sides reached a consensus to sign a one-year ceasefire agreement. On the eve of Lin Ran’s departure from Geneva, Kosygin said this to him while they were strolling in the garden of the Palais des Nations.
For this kind of signing ceremony, either Leonid or Lyndon Johnson would come personally, or Dean Rusk would come. Generally speaking, it wouldn’t be Lin Ran signing, even though he is the ambassador plenipotentiary.
Moreover, Lin Ran wasn’t interested, because the signing time would require waiting at least half a month for all three parties to finalize the agreement content.
He didn’t want to wait a full half month just to appear under the reporters’ magnesium flashes.
As one of the most representative figures of the Cold War, Lin Ran never lacked media exposure.
After cooperating with bigT, Columbia Television has been trying to contact Lin Ran through Jenny Hearst, attempting to persuade him to host a talk show on their network, and guaranteeing that Lin Ran’s talk show would be the most followed, highest-rated program in history.
bigT has also privately told Lin Ran that his connections and resources are too extensive; he can invite anyone he wants for interviews, and even Nikita, who has been exiled to the Black Sea on permanent vacation, might be persuadable if Lin Ran wanted.
Lin Ran interviewing Nikita—just thinking about it inside his head made bigT climax. He was imagining himself in Lin Ran’s role.
At the scene in the Palais des Nations garden, security personnel were stationed far away around the perimeter. The garden was cordoned off to prevent outsiders from entering. Only Lin Ran and Kosygin were there, and they walked very slowly.
Reporters snapped photos from within the security perimeter: the US and Soviet Union reaching a Vietnam War ceasefire agreement, personally negotiated by the professor—this was an absolute major event, especially at this timing after North Vietnam’s Spring Offensive.
“Alright, I have neither fondness nor ill will toward the Soviet Union,” Lin Ran said wistfully.
Kosygin nodded: “We know. You are an absolute realist. For you, problem-solving has become instinct. You don’t mix personal likes or dislikes into solving problems.
Whether it’s mathematical problems or real-world problems, when a problem is presented to you, you think only one thing: how do I solve it.”
This is also the KGB’s interpretation of Lin Ran: an absolute problem-solver, with eyes only on the problem, devoid of any moral principles or moral standards.
The Kremlin strongly endorses this interpretation.
They feel that Lin Ran’s identity as a mathematician and his mathematical mindset have permeated his very bones. He can even come up with something like the Madman Theory, utterly unafraid of actually flipping the chessboard and triggering a nuclear war.
That’s right, Moscow isn’t afraid of Lyndon Johnson; they’re worried about Lin Ran.
To put it bluntly, Moscow is essentially a follower of Machiavelli. Talking to them about ideology, class, alliances—these are meaningless. You have to talk interests with them.
Machiavelli emphasized secular power maintenance, pragmatism, and moral flexibility, prioritizing national interest over ideology.
The Salin era embodied significant Machiavellian principles in actual policy and leadership style, including the use of fear, deception, alliance strategies, and realist methods where the end justifies the means.
This similarity has been described by scholars as revolutionary Machiavellianism, referring to the Soviet Union combining Machiavelli’s power techniques with Bolshevik revolutionary tradition—essentially just Machiavelli’s core dressed in Bolshevik clothing.
The current Soviet Union is the same.
Precisely for this reason, they aren’t afraid of Lyndon Johnson—they know it’s an act—but they fear Lin Ran. In Moscow’s view, a Lin Ran with no moral views or moral compass, driven only to solve the problem, might truly escalate a nuclear war to infinitely expand and upgrade the conflict, just for victory.
And once Lyndon Johnson’s rational string snaps amid the pressure of facing defeat, with an absolute problem-solver like Lin Ran behind the scenes pulling the strings—Lin Ran’s authority in the White House is beyond doubt—then even a 1% possibility is a consequence the Kremlin cannot bear.
What’s more, in the Kremlin’s estimate, the possibility of catastrophic consequences is at least 30%.
Lin Ran’s Chinese descent makes him even more unrestrained when operating the two white nations, the US and Soviet Union.
So it’s not that Lyndon Johnson’s madman act succeeded; it’s that Lin Ran, the true madman in the Kremlin’s eyes, scared them.
“Interesting interpretation. So in Moscow’s eyes, I’m that kind of person,” Lin Ran smiled noncommittally.
Kosygin continued: “This isn’t derogatory; quite the opposite—it’s the highest praise.
Many scholars from the Columbia School, or other schools, always have this myth that everything must be based on ideas, with a logical framework, anthropomorphizing the nation, and acting within that framework.
America starts the Vietnam War, scholars are disappointed. We fall out with China, scholars are disappointed.
This is because their theories are unrealistic—past observed phenomena summarized into theory, yet they delusionally try to analyze, predict, and guide future events.
Someone like you, Professor, an absolute problem-solver, is the talent reality most needs.”
Lin Ran cut to the chase after hearing this: “Just like how the media thinks you’re a moderate, Leonid a conservative hawk—actually, you’re all making decisions based on considerations of Soviet national interest.
You’re also problem-solvers. Idealism is just packaging for achieving your goals.”
Kosygin nodded: “Of course. No one truly believes we and America can coexist. At least we see no signs that America has such willingness. We both wish the other would disappear from Earth tomorrow.
I just think we shouldn’t focus our energy on military confrontation right now. We have far too many internal problems to solve. Military confrontation is foolish—low returns, high costs, and it lets other countries benefit.”
Kosygin is also the highest-level supporter of the Eastern Europe OGAS system.
Without Kosygin’s support, Eastern Europe’s OGAS integration would have stalled long ago.
Lin Ran asked curiously: “Aren’t you afraid I’ll leak your words to the media?
You should understand, many free world intellectuals yearn for and support Moscow because they think Moscow is idealistic, that only Moscow can change the status quo, change the free world’s problems.
But what you’re saying now is that we’re no idealism camp; we’re even more naked classical court politics.”
Kosygin said: “Professor, we’re not classical court politics. Secondly, if you tell the media, I won’t admit these were my words.”
Lin Ran didn’t refute him but thought: When Podgorny is ousted, you gradually lose power in the diplomatic field, and what you want to do is overturned not because it’s wrong, but because you proposed it—then you’ll know why I say the Soviet Union is classical court politics.
“Mr. Kosygin, I’d like to invite a New York Times reporter to take a photo of us together for the newspaper, to show our pursuit of peace. What do you think?”
At the White House East Room press conference, the press secretary had already previewed that they would discuss the Vietnam War issue—very positive, upbeat news.
Of course, everyone knew that already.
Lin Ran, as ambassador plenipotentiary, going to Geneva to negotiate with Kosygin had long been widely reported by the media.
The New York Times front-page headline featured a photo of the two standing in the Palais des Nations garden, their smiles indicating the negotiations went well.
Including photos reporters sneaked of Lin Ran and Kosygin strolling, giving readers the illusion of very smooth talks.
So everyone guessed it would be a good outcome. The reporters here had very optimistic expectations, hoping for more accurate information.
White House Press Secretary Joe Christian entered the East Room with a thick stack of documents, and reporters’ hands shot up.
They couldn’t wait for him to call on them one by one; questions erupted in the White House East Room.
“Is the White House planning to compromise?”
“Does this mean the White House-controlled Vietnam War has ended in total failure?”
“Can the professor come out and say a few words?”
“How does President Johnson view bigT claiming he can’t accomplish anything without the professor?”
“How to evaluate Hanoi’s claim that this is a great victory belonging to the Vietnamese people?”
This is still a naive era; both sides in a war can’t all win, right? If one has a great victory, the other must have a painful defeat.
It hasn’t developed to the later stages where both warring sides can claim great victory.
At least everyone still respects common sense.
You win, I win—such things are still impossible.
Christian cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping over the reporters below. As White House Press Secretary during Lyndon Johnson’s term, he knew them all.
Who was opposition, who supported the president, who was close to Nixon, who was Hearst family—Christian knew it all clearly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon.
Mr. President has authorized me to announce an important development: In high-level talks held in Geneva, our ambassador plenipotentiary Randolph Lin and Soviet Prime Minister Alexei Kosygin held constructive dialogue on the Vietnam War issue.
Both sides discussed the urgency of the current situation, including casualties and regional instability after the Tet Offensive.
The Soviet side recognizes that continued conflict does not align with global strategic balance. Amid the increasingly tense international situation, they have agreed to urge the North Vietnamese side to participate in ceasefire negotiations.
The three parties—America, South Vietnam, and North Vietnam—plan to complete the signing of a one-year ceasefire treaty in Geneva.
The treaty will include immediate cessation of bombing, mutual withdrawal of troops from buffer zones, and supervision mechanisms to ensure compliance with relevant United Nations Security Council resolutions.
This marks a key step toward peacefully resolving the Vietnam crisis.”
The press corps buzzed with excitement, flashbulbs popping nonstop.
Christian felt some inner tension: He knew this would spark a domestic political storm—hawks would see it as capitulation, doves would question the treaty’s durability.
It pleased neither side.
“Mr. Secretary, after the Tet Offensive, US Military casualties surged, public opinion support dropped, and the White House’s nuclear deterrence became more evident. Did these force the Soviets to change their stance?”
“What are the treaty details? Is one year enough? Will the South Vietnamese side agree?”
“Mr. Secretary, will North Vietnam’s talk-fight strategy make the treaty fragile? If the North Vietnamese side breaches first, what’s the White House’s contingency plan?”
“Mr. Secretary, can you share specific details of the professor’s negotiations with Mr. Kosygin? What methods did the professor use to get the Kremlin to facilitate these peace talks?”
Christian remained silent, standing at the podium. After reciting his lines, he said nothing, ignoring the reporters’ questions.
He raised his hands downward and said: “Alright, today’s press conference is over. Further updates will be released after the Geneva ceasefire agreement is signed.”
With that, he turned and left, ignoring the clamor in the East Room or whether the reporters had heard him clearly.
After the three parties decided to sign the ceasefire agreement, Rusk became exceptionally busy.
Because Lyndon Johnson saw the dawn of an election reversal; the good news of the ceasefire halted his poll decline.
Whether McCarthy or Wallace, these two intraparty challengers both claimed to love peace and could stop the Vietnam War.
But they couldn’t counter that Lyndon Johnson had already stopped the Vietnam War. You only say in campaign speeches that you can do it, while I have already done it.
Combined with the prestige from the moon landing, plus three years as vice president and five as president, Lyndon Johnson was slowly regaining control of the party primary.
Humphrey was utterly dumbfounded. He hadn’t expected this move to actually work—Lyndon Johnson really achieved a ceasefire.
North Vietnam actually agreed to peace talks. Humphrey thought uncivilized monkeys are just monkeys; they actually believed the White House’s ceasefire agreement.
He was now in utter dilemma: whether to jump into the race.
In the original spacetime, Humphrey didn’t jump in until March 31, after Lyndon Johnson publicly announced he wouldn’t seek reelection and supported Humphrey, then Humphrey followed suit.
But now, with Lyndon Johnson’s situation reversed, what should he do? Should he oppose him now?
If he opposed him, as a key member of this White House administration, how could he continue? And Johnson’s supporters wouldn’t accept him, seeing him as a traitor—with such a huge debuff, how could he win?
US-Soviet peace talks and Vietnam War ceasefire hurt Humphrey the most.
Next was Rusk. The Donkey Party primary starts March 12 in New Hampshire; Lyndon Johnson was urging him to complete the peace agreement signing by April.
Forget 996; during this time, aside from work he crashed when he got home, and often he just rested directly in his office.
This day he returned home and saw from afar that his first-floor lights were blazing.
He checked his watch—it was nearly zero hour. Rusk was puzzled; normally, his wife should have been asleep long ago.
After entering the house, Rusk understood: his son Richard Rusk had brought a group of classmates to stay over.
Dean Rusk roughly counted—fully 13 people. They were treating his house like a hotel.
“Young lads, time to rest,” Dean Rusk said. Unlike usual, he didn’t toss his briefcase on the dining table but clamped it under his arm, planning to take it to the study and lock the study door.
“Father, tell us about these peace talks!” Richard Rusk called out loudly.
His classmates waved their anti-war banners.
They had come to Washington for the anti-war march.
Everyone wanted firsthand info from this sitting White House Secretary of State.
“I know as much as you do,” Rusk said.
Richard Rusk stood and grabbed his father’s arm. “Father, just tell us!”
This was the first time since the Vietnam War began that his son had been so affectionately close to him.
Thinking of the recent pressures, Rusk softened: “Alright, lads. What do you want to know? I can only share my analysis; anything I can’t tell you, I absolutely won’t.”
Richard quickly asked: “Father, will this ceasefire turn from one year into permanent?”
“I don’t know,” Rusk said. “I don’t even know if I’ll still be in the White House after a year.”
A classmate beside him, George, asked: “Mr. Secretary, why could the professor succeed in talks, while last year the White House made multiple efforts in London—you went to London and Yanjing, but failed.
Is this as conservative newspapers say, that the professor is the KGB’s most successful creation in America? Or does the professor really have magic?”
Hawks were very dissatisfied with these peace talks. Military generals, conservative congressmen, etc., all opposed the talks, so conservative media portrayed them as a White House defeat.
At the same time, Lin Ran, the direct facilitator of the talks, was again labeled a Soviet KGB agent by them.
Otherwise, why could only you succeed? No one else could?
Photos of Lin Ran and Kosygin looking warmly at each other were seen by them as ironclad proof—Lin Ran reporting to the Kremlin.
Conservative media even turned the photo into a four-panel comic.
“Am I doing well?”
“Of course. Keep it up; next time I want to see you in the Oval Office.”
“Me? President?”
“That’s right. You’ll be the first president of Chinese descent.”
Conservative media said sooner or later, Lin Ran would become president, and the Kremlin would win the Cold War outright.
No need for space race, no need for artificial intelligence technology singularity—just put the professor on the White House throne.
Rusk had naturally seen the related reports. In the White House office, they treated them as jokes during busy work breaks.
“The professor is of course not KGB. I can hardly imagine if the professor worked in Moscow—our current situation would be much more difficult.”
