Chapter 424: Southward

When Shigu Zhai opened its doors the next day, a teenager appeared beside Shen Wenyuan.

He looked about sixteen or seventeen, lanky, with a clean white face, wearing a blue cloth coat faded from washing, the cuffs rolled up to his forearms, carefully dusting the antique shelf with a chicken‑feather duster.

"Boss, this is Little Wu, Wu Mingyuan," Shen Wenyuan introduced, "He's the grandson of my old friend; his family is in trouble and he wants a job. I find the kid steady and his hands steady, so I kept him."

Li Ping'an sized up the teenager.

His eyes were clear, his work meticulous; when dusting he knew to start light then heavy, and would deliberately avoid porcelain.

"Learned it?"

"Never studied it," Wu Mingyuan said shyly, "But my grandfather was once an apprentice at a glass‑ware factory and often told me that antiques must be handled gently, as if serving one's ancestors."

The remark made Li Ping'an laugh.

"Alright, stay. Thirty a month, lunch included. Learn well under Mr. Shen."

"Thank you, boss!" the boy bowed, his waist bending deeply.

July burned hot; graduation season arrived.

In the largest private room of Tan's Old Flavor, two tables were set.

Li Yaozong, He Xiao, and Chen Anbang all wore brand‑new white shirts, their faces showing the excitement and a hint of bewilderment of soon entering society. Li Nuanqing and Li Anning were still seniors, but they came today, dressed in floral dresses like two fresh jasmine blossoms.

Sha Zhu wore an apron and cooked himself, Ma Dongmei spread the tablecloth and served dishes. Chen Jianghe was busy pouring wine, and Li Pingle pulled Lin Xueqing's hand, chatting about everyday matters.

"Here, first toast!" Li Ping'an raised his glass, "Celebrating Yaozong, He Xiao, and Anbang for successfully completing their studies!"

The glasses clinked, ringing.

After three rounds of drinking, the conversation turned to business.

"Dad, the school gave us allocation plans," Li Yaozong said, "I was assigned to the First Machinery Industry Department as a technician."

"I was assigned to the Beijing Automobile Manufacturing Plant," He Xiao replied, "working on automobile design."

Chen Anbang adjusted his glasses: "I… I want to continue studying, take the graduate exam. Study international law."

The table fell silent for a moment.

Li Ping'an set down his chopsticks.

"What do you all think?"

Li Yaozong hesitated a moment: "Dad, I'd like to hear your opinion."

"My opinion?" Li Ping'an laughed, "My opinion is that the path must be chosen by yourself. But as a father, I can help you analyze it."

He looked at his son.

"A technician in the Machinery Department is an iron rice bowl, stable. Yet in terms of seniority, to achieve results you have to endure many years."

"A designer at an automobile plant matches your major, but the domestic auto industry is just starting, so what you can learn is limited."

"As for graduate study," he turned to Chen Anbang, "International law is a good direction. Since reform and opening, foreign affairs will increase, needing knowledgeable people."

Li Yaozong pondered for a moment.

"Dad, I… I want to go out and see."

"Where to?"

"The South," Li Yaozong's eyes lit up, "I heard the Shenzhen Special Economic Zone is bustling, with many new things. I want to see it, even… take part in it."

He Xiao also nodded: "I want to go too! The automobile industry abroad is far more advanced than ours. If we could go out and learn…"

Li Ping'an felt something stir inside.

The time had come.

After dinner, in Xi Kua Yuan.

Li Ping'an called his son to the study.

"Yaozong, do you really want to go south?"

"Really want to."

"Not just to see," Li Ping'an opened a drawer, took out a map, "it's to act."

The map was hand‑drawn, marking Hong Kong, Shenzhen, Guangzhou, and across the sea, Japan.

"Dad, this is…"

"Next month, you and I will go to Hong Kong," Li Ping'an pointed at the map, "then, to Japan."

Li Yaozong was stunned.

"Go… Japan?"

"Yes." Li Ping'an's gaze was deep, "Now Japan's real estate and stocks are soaring like rockets. Those conglomerates are filthy rich, boasting they could buy all of America. But extremes reverse; I judge that in four or five years at most, their bubble will burst."

He paused.

"We must get in before the bubble bursts, exit at its peak. Then, with the profits, buy their production lines—clothing, motorcycles, cars, machine tools, and future computers."

Li Yaozong's heart raced as he listened.

"Dad, can this… work?"

"It can," Li Ping'an said, "because I know how history will go."

He said it in his mind, light in tone but heavy in weight.

August 1981, Beiping Railway Station.

Lin Xueqing adjusted her husband's collar, her eyes slightly reddened.

"Ping'an, stay safe out there. Eat on time, don't stay up late."

"Got it." Li Ping'an patted her hand, "I'll leave the home to you."

Li Nuanqing clutched her father's arm: "Dad, bring me a beautiful dress!"

"Alright, will bring."

Li Anning whispered, "Uncle, I want a medical book, from abroad."

Noted.

Sha Zhu came over with a packet of food: "Ping'an ge, this is braised beef and pancakes, for eating on the road. When you get to the south, remember to send a letter!"

Ma Dongmei called out from behind to He Xiao: "Xiao'er, follow your Uncle Li, learn more, watch more, speak less!"

The train whistle blew long.

Li Ping'an brought his son and He Xiao, stepping onto the southbound train.

Hong Kong, Victoria Harbour.

The sea breeze carried a salty dampness, scattering the northern dry heat.

Li Ping'an stood by the window of the Peninsula Hotel, looking out at the splendid night scenery. Skyscrapers stood tall, neon lights flickered, cruise ships came and went in the harbor, a scene of prosperity.

"Dad, this place…… is really different from Beijing." Li Yaozong sighed.

"Beijing will be like this someday." Li Ping'an turned around, "Tomorrow we'll go register the company."

The company was named "Wanshang Investment."

It symbolizes embracing all things, and also hints at the era's spirit of "Wanshang renewal."

The registration went smoothly—Hong Kong at this time welcomed mainland funds. Li Ping'an used gold bars to grease the wheels, hired the best lawyer, and completed all procedures in three days.

Next came hiring.

The job ad was placed in the South China Morning Post, requiring: knowledge of finance, English ability, international outlook.

Many came to apply; Li Ping'an personally interviewed them.

The first to come in was Zhou Wenbin, in his early thirties, a graduate of Hong Kong University's Economics Department, had worked three years at HSBC Bank, wore gold-rimmed glasses, and spoke clearly.

"Mr. Li, I've looked over your materials. You want to enter the Japanese market?"

"Yes."

"The Nikkei index is indeed rising now, but the risk is not small either. How much are you prepared to invest?"

"Over three billion." Li Ping'an said, "And, with leverage."

Zhou Wenbin's eyes behind his glasses flickered.

"Leverage magnifies gains, but also magnifies risk. Are you sure?"

"Sure."

Zhou Wenbin fell silent for a moment, then extended his hand.

"I'd like to join."

The second was Lin Wan-yi, twenty-eight, studied in the UK, majoring in international finance. Short hair, capable, spoke directly.

"Mr. Li, I've studied the Japanese economy. Their prosperity is built on exports, but the US won't always tolerate trade deficits. I judge that at most five years, there will be a variable."

Li Ping'an nodded silently.

His gaze was sharp.

"If a variable comes, what should we do?"

"Withdraw before the variable arrives." Lin Wan-yi said, "But timing must be right—too early and you won't earn enough, too late and you can't escape."

"When do you think is appropriate?"

"End of '84 to beginning of '85."

Li Ping'an laughed.

"Welcome aboard."

In one week, we hired twelve people.

There were analysts, traders, legal, finance. Average age thirty-two, all had overseas backgrounds, all ethnic Chinese—Li Ping'an specifically required this, trustworthy.

The company rented an entire floor of an office building in Central.

Li Ping'an also had Zhou Wenbin buy a villa in Repulse Bay—not to live in, but to store things.

Late at night, when all was quiet, he alone went down to the villa's basement.

A thought stirred.

In the Spiritual Spring Space, the gold looted from Lou Banche's villa and snatched from Japanese soldiers during the Anti-Japanese War clattered, filling half the basement.

There were gold bars, gold ingots.

A total of one hundred tons.

Under the light, the gold glittered, dazzling to the point one couldn't keep eyes open.

The next day, a senior manager from HSBC Bank personally led a team to come assess.

Upon seeing this pile of gold, everyone sucked in a breath of cold air.

"Mr. Li, these…… are all yours?"

"Yes." Li Ping'an nodded, "I want to mortgage a loan."

The assessment lasted all day.

Finally, HSBC offered the terms: mortgage one hundred tons of gold, loan of 3.5 billion USD, annual interest six percent, to be repaid in five years.

"Mr. Li, this interest is already quite favorable." The manager wiped sweat, "Now international market rates are all rising..."

"Okay." Li Ping'an signed, "When will the money arrive?"

"Within three days."

Early September, the Wanshang Investment team flew into Tokyo.

Narita Airport was spacious and bright, businesspeople in suits bustling about, electronic display boards flashing flight information and stock quotes.

"Dad, this place…… is truly developed." Li Yaozong looked at the automatic doors and electronic signs in the airport, somewhat shocked.

"We'll have that too someday." Li Ping'an said.

The team checked into the Tokyo Imperial Hotel.

The next day, inside the conference room.

Zhou Wenbin projected the data onto the wall.

"The Nikkei index is currently hovering around eight thousand points, having risen 120% over the past three years. In real estate, the land price in Tokyo's Ginza has broken ten million yen per square meter, roughly forty thousand dollars."

Lin Wanyi added, "We analyzed the stocks of several major conglomerates: Mitsui, Sumitomo, Mitsubishi, Fuji. Among them, Mitsui and Sumitomo had the greatest gains, but their price‑to‑earnings ratios are already high."

Li Ping'an listened to the briefing.

"Use 100% leverage and buy everything. Mitsui and Sumitomo each take 40%, the remaining 20% is spread across other stocks and real estate."

"All?" Zhou Wenbin confirmed.

"All," Li Ping'an said, "35 billion, not a single cent left."

The conference room fell silent for a few seconds.

Then everyone began to hustle.

Making phone calls, placing orders, confirming.

The capital surged like a tide into Tokyo's stock market and real estate market.

At night, Li Ping'an walked alone on the streets of Tokyo.

Skyscrapers rose everywhere, neon lights and bustling nightlife; billboards flashed smiling entertainers. Laughter spilled from izakayas, and suited office workers drank until their faces were flushed, shouting "Japan's number one."

He walked to the foot of the Mitsubishi Bank headquarters.

He looked up at the skyscraper.

Divine Perception slowly unfolded.

Like invisible tentacles, it seeped into steel and concrete, penetrating the heavy steel door of the vault.

Gold.

Piles of gold, neatly stacked in the vault. The gold bars bore numbers, emitting a cold glint in the dim light.

And cash.

U. S. dollars and Japanese yen, bundled together, piled on the shelves.

Antiques.

Ceramics, calligraphy, bronze artifacts—many Chinese items, somehow ended up here.

Medical books.

Ancient Chinese medicinal texts, some even unique copies.

Li Ping'an closed his eyes.

A thought flickered.

The gold vanished.

The cash vanished.

The antiques vanished.

The medical books vanished.

Everything was drawn into the Spiritual Spring Space.

Two hundred tons of gold.

Ten billion dollars in cash.

Fifty billion yen.

Countless antiques.

Over three thousand medical volumes.

Having done this, he turned and headed toward the next bank.

Sumitomo, Fuji, Mitsui…

Over one night, the vaults of Tokyo's five major banks were half emptied.

No one noticed.

The surveillance footage showed everything normal; the guard was dozing, the alarm silent as a chicken.

Only Li Ping'an knew that what he took was more than wealth.

There was also interest.

Interest accrued over those years.

As for the panic the Japanese Soldiers would feel the next day upon discovery, that was no longer Li Ping'an's concern.

The next day, Li Ping'an, like an ordinary tourist, entered a mall in Ginza.

He bought Lin Xueqing a pearl necklace, Li Nuanqing two dresses—one floral, one pure white. He bought Li Anning a set of the latest medical compendia, the original English edition.

He bought his sister Li Pingle a watch and several sets of cosmetics.

He bought Sha Zhu a cigar and Chen Jianghe a tie.

Big bags and small bags, he carried back to the hotel.

"Dad, you're buying so much…" Li Yaozong looked at the pile of items, both amused and exasperated.

"It's a rare visit," Li Ping'an said, "By the way, tomorrow we'll go to Osaka."

"Osaka?"

"To buy a production line."

In Osaka's industrial zone, machines roared.

Li Ping'an led his team, inspecting factories one by one.

The garment line needed the latest automatic cutting machines and sewing equipment.

The motorcycle line required Honda's technology transfer—though the other side was reluctant, the money was in place, and an agreement was signed.

The automobile production line was the hardest; in the end we only bought a second‑hand Toyota assembly line, but it came with technical guidance and training.

The electronics production line—we bought Sony's radio and television manufacturing lines.

The machine tools—we purchased a two‑axis coordinated machining center—an obsolete production line, a prohibited item; Li Ping'an paid three times the price and obtained it through special channels.

The computer production line was the most troublesome; personal computers are just getting started, and we only managed to acquire the Apple II assembly technology and a partial parts production line.

The total cost was one hundred million dollars.

The equipment was packed into containers and shipped to the dock.

Destination: Shenzhen.

Shenzhen, Pingshan New District.

It was still a desolate stretch—farmland, fish ponds, and a few scattered farmhouses.

But the bulldozer had already arrived, rumbling as it leveled the ground.

Li Ping'an stood on the earthen slope, looking at the land before him.

Ten thousand mu.

About a hundred football fields.

"Dad, can we really build an industrial park here?" Li Yaozong asked, a little uncertain.

"Yes." Li Ping'an said, "and it will be soon."

He pointed toward the distance.

"Over there we'll build a garment factory, using Japanese equipment, to produce export clothing."

"Over there we'll build a motorcycle plant; within three years we'll produce our own motorcycles."

"The automobile plant will be placed deepest inside; initially we'll assemble, gradually assimilating the technology."

"The electronics and computer factories will be adjacent; these will become sunrise industries later."

"The machine‑tool workshop will be built separately; it's the industrial mother machine and must be protected."

He spoke calmly, but each word was like a nail driven into the soil.

"Yaozong."

"Dad."

"You stay," Li Ping'an said, looking at his son, "oversee the construction, watch these factories rise. This is our family's future, and also the nation's future."

Li Yaozong took a deep breath.

"I understand."

"He Xiaoye, stay as well, to help you," Li Ping'an said. "He knows automobiles; the two of you should work together. Prioritize safety—though you also practice martial arts, don't be careless, and go out less at night."

"Got it, then you…"

"I'm returning to Beijing," Li Ping'an said, looking north. "There are still a bunch of matters there. Moreover, your mother and your sisters are still at home waiting."

On the return flight, Li Ping'an closed his eyes to rest.

In his mind, scenes from the past month flashed by like a movie.

Hong Kong registration, Japanese investment, collection of funds, equipment purchases, Shenzhen land‑grabbing…

His stride was long.

But his steps were precise.

He knew that from now on his battlefield would no longer be just the Siheyuan, nor just Wangfujing and Panjiayuan.

It would be Hong Kong, Tokyo, Shenzhen, and an even broader future world.

The plane pierced the clouds, sunlight streaming through the porthole.

It was bright.

Like this era.

And like the path he is walking.