Nearly a week after Lin Qi returned to the Federation, he finally met with Mr. Truman.
There were too many little secrets between them. This time, after Lin Qi had returned from Gefra, they had to meet.
"Sorry. You know, their emperor died, so there's been a lot of diplomatic work for me to handle lately."
Mr. Truman apologized as soon as they met. He had originally arranged to see Lin Qi on the third day after his return.
But a diplomatic delegation had suddenly visited the Federation, so he could only postpone the meeting until now.
Lin Qi expressed his understanding and raised a hand to invite Mr. Truman to sit. "This is also why I don't like being a politician. This work takes up too much personal time. Not everyone can handle it."
Mr. Truman agreed with him, his expression tinged with emotion.
The greater a politician's power and the higher his position, the less private time he had.
Take the Federation's presidents, for example. From the moment they won the election, they moved into the Presidential Palace.
Some people might consider that an honor. Of course it was one. After all, not many people in the entire Federation had lived in the Presidential Palace for very long.
But it also meant that the president lost a great deal of personal time. Except when he happened to have no schedule and could take a short break, he was working at all other times—even while sleeping.
Whenever necessary, the staff of the Presidential Palace would knock on the president's bedroom door, wake him up, put his clothes on him, and then dump him wherever he was supposed to go.
Mr. Truman was certainly not as busy as the president, but his work was by no means easy.
After the