Chapter 428: Three‑Line Layout

In June 1982, Hong Kong was sweltering like a steamer.

The rain threatened to fall but didn't, the air sticky enough to wring water out. Glass curtain walls of Central's skyscrapers reflected the leaden sky, traffic on the streets crawled slowly, and honking rose and fell.

Li Ping'an stood before the floor‑to‑ceiling window of the top‑floor office of Wanshang Bank, holding a thick stack of reports.

Outside, the waters of Victoria Harbour gleamed gray‑white, a few cargo ships like weary beasts slowly making for the pier; farther out, the skyline of the Kowloon Peninsula blurred in the rain‑mist.

"Director Li, this is the recent share‑price trend of Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm, Kowloon Godown, and Harmony Record Whampoa."

Zhou Wenbin pushed the door in, a fine sweat beading his forehead. He wore a white shirt, his tie loosened halfway, sleeves rolled to his forearms, and clutched three folders.

"Sit." Li Ping'an didn't turn around, "Go on."

"Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm's share price fell from eighteen dollars at the start of the year to nine‑two now, wiping out nearly half its market value. Kowloon Godown fared worse, dropping from fifteen to six‑eight. Harmony Record Whampoa held up relatively well, but still fell thirty percent."

Zhou Wenbin opened the folder, his voice quickening.

"The key is that the shareholder lists of these British‑owned firms are changing. Many British directors are reducing their stakes, even liquidating. News from HSBC says London is indeed cutting back its Asia business."

Li Ping'an turned and took the folder.

Black ink on white paper, line graphs, shareholding tables… behind the dense mass of data lay a turning point of an era.

"Entering now is both snatching a bargain and taking over the plate." Zhou Wenbin pushed his glasses up, "The risk lies in the Sino‑British talks not being settled yet. If…"

"If Hong Kong's future remains uncertain, these assets will be worth even less?" Li Ping'an picked up.

"Yes."

Li Ping'an walked to the map and pointed his finger at Hong Kong's location.

"The British have fled because they don't believe in Hong Kong's future. But we do."

He turned around, his eyes firm.

"We must not only buy, but buy big. Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm, Kowloon Godown, Harmony Record Whampoa — buy as much as we can. Great Antiquity, Virtuous and Abundant, Land Holding — if they're willing to sell, we'll snap them all up."

"What about funds?" Zhou Wenbin asked, "The acquisition of Standard Chartered already used a hundred billion, and now the account…"

"Use Standard Chartered as collateral to borrow from other banks." Li Ping'an said, "Use Hong Kong's assets to borrow Hong Kong's money to buy Hong Kong's land. That's leverage on top of leverage."

Zhou Wenbin sucked in a breath of cold air.

"This… the risk is too great."

"Great risk, great reward." Li Ping'an walked back to the window, "Moreover, we're not betting that Hong Kong will collapse, but that it will become better."

The rain finally fell.

Bean‑sized raindrops hammered the glass with a patter, quickly merging into a curtain that blurred the world outside into a wash of watercolor.

Over the next half month, Hong Kong's capital markets roiled with undercurrents.

Several dozen mysterious companies registered in the Cayman Islands and Bahamas quietly snapped up British‑owned real‑estate shares in the secondary market, buying only a few million shares a day — like ants moving house, silently and unseen.

But those with a keen sense already sensed something amiss.

"Someone is sweeping up shares."

"British‑owned real‑estate shares have fallen this far — who's still buying?"

"Find out who's behind it."

They couldn't find out.

The corporate structure was as complex as a labyrinth, shareholdings layered layer upon layer, ultimately pointing to a clutch of offshore trusts. The true controller lay hidden deep in the mist.

Not until the end of June did an announcement shock all of Hong Kong.

"Wanshang Bank announces it now holds fifteen percent of Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm, twelve percent of Kowloon Godown, and nine percent of Harmony Record Whampoa. It will continue to increase its stake, not ruling out seeking board seats."

The newspapers exploded.

"Mainland capital is launching a major assault on Hong Kong real estate!"

"Li Ping'an's next move!"

"Is the era of British capital ending?"

At the board meeting of Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm, several British directors' faces turned ashen.

"What does this Li Ping'an want to do?"

"Does he want to take control of Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm?"

"We can't let him succeed!"

But though they spoke tough, their hands trembled. With the company's share price battered, their own assets had shrunk badly; they had long wanted to cash out and exit.

The next day, Li Ping'an received three invitation letters.

Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm, Kowloon Godown, and Harmony Record Whampoa simultaneously invited him to "discuss cooperation."

The negotiation venue was set at the Peninsula Hotel.

Li Ping'an brought only Zhou Wenbin and a lawyer.

The other side came with a dozen or so people — directors, executives, lawyers, accountants, plus representatives from two investment banks — Morgan Stanley and UBS.

A long conference table, the two sides faced off.

"Mr. Li," said the chairman of Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm, a white‑haired Briton, "your recent buying spree has troubled us greatly."

"Normal market behavior." Li Ping'an remained calm, "Your company's share price is low; I see investment value, so I bought."

"What do you want?"

"Cooperation." Li Ping'an said, "Wanshang Bank has just entered Hong Kong and needs a local partner. Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm, Kowloon Godown, and Harmony Record Whampoa are excellent partners."

"How to cooperate?"

"Cross‑shareholding." Li Ping'an gestured for Zhou Wenbin to hand out the documents, "Wanshang Bank will hold part of your equity, and you will hold part of Wanshang's. Resources shared, strengths complemented."

The representative of Pleasant Harmony Foreign Firm opened the file, glanced at a few pages, and looked up.

"Mr. Li's proposal…… is quite creative. But how will the equity ratio be determined?"

"According to market value." Li Ping'an said, "The current market value."

Low murmurs of discussion rose inside the house.

The current market value is a historic low. Using this price to cross‑hold shares means Wanshang acquired the equity of a British‑capital enterprise at a low price, while the British enterprise received… the equity of a newly‑acquired, uncertain‑future bank.

"That's unfair," the representative of Kowloon Cang shook his head.

"Then you can refuse," Li Ping'an stood up, "I'll keep buying on the secondary market. Once my stake exceeds twenty percent, I'll demand a special shareholders' meeting to restructure the board of directors."

The words were like cold water splashed on everyone's heads.

The conference room was dead silent.

Only the hissing airflow from the air‑conditioner vents and the faint sound of rain outside could be heard.

In the end, the agreement was reached.

Wanshang Bank, at the current market price, increased its holdings in Yi He, Kowloon Cang, and Hutchison Whampoa to twenty percent. Each of the three companies received five percent of Wanshang Bank's equity.

At the same time, Wanshang Bank will establish branches in Tokyo, London, and New York.

"Facilitates capital flow," Li Ping'an said while signing. "Our business will need to reach the whole world, so we need a global financial network."

After signing, they shook hands.

The British man's hand was cold, his smile forced.

Li Ping'an's hand was steady, his smile faint.

Li Ping'an knew this was only the first step.

In early July, Li Ping'an flew back to Shenzhen.

Summer in Peng City was hotter than Hong Kong. The glaring sun hung in the sky, softening the asphalt roads so they stuck to one's feet. Cranes on the site swung their long arms, pile‑drivers clanged, and dust churned in the heat wave.

Pingshan Industrial Park had already taken shape.

Rows of factories rose from the ground, their exteriors painted white, dazzling in the sunlight.

In the garment factory's workshop, sewing machines buzzed, and the female workers kept their heads down, fingers flying. On the motorcycle factory's assembly line, frames, engines, tires—each component was assembled into a complete bike.

Li Yaozong and He Xiao waited for him at the factory entrance.

Both were tanned and thinner, but their eyes held a spark.

"Dad!"

"Uncle Li!"

Li Ping'an patted his son's shoulder and then looked at He Xiao.

"Hard work,"

"Not hard," Li Yaozong said, pointing to the distant site. "The main structure of the R&D center is close to topping out. According to your plans, eight above‑ground floors, two underground, and the laboratories are built to international standards."

"What about talent?" Li Ping'an asked.

Li Yaozong and He Xiao exchanged a glance.

"We were just going to tell you this," He Xiao began. "We visited several universities, and the situation… isn't very optimistic."

That night, in a temporary boardroom in the industrial park, the three held a small meeting.

Several résumés were spread on the table, along with introductory materials from various universities.

"Harbin Institute of Technology, Northwestern Polytechnical University, Beihang, Tsinghua…" Li Yaozong listed them one by one. "Graduates from these schools are assigned by the state—to state‑owned factories, research institutes, government agencies. A private firm like ours is overlooked."

"What about salary?" Li Ping'an asked.

"We offered a monthly salary of three hundred, three times that of a state‑owned factory," He Xiao said with a wry smile. "But many students and parents think a secure iron rice bowl outweighs high pay. Moreover… our location is too remote."

Li Ping'an was silent for a moment.

"Then let's change the approach."

He stood up and walked to the map of China on the wall.

"First, don't focus only on fresh graduates. Go to major research institutes and state‑owned factories to poach talent. Engineers with experience and skills but low pay and no promotion prospects are our targets."

"Second, build dormitories, schools, hospitals." He pointed to Shenzhen on the map. "Turn this place into a complete living community—housing, education for children, medical care for families."

"Third," he turned, "establish scholarships. Set up a 'Wanshang Scholarship' at key universities to fund impoverished students. Graduates willing to work for Wanshang get priority hiring and full debt forgiveness."

Li Yaozong's eyes lit up.

"Dad, this plan is great!"

"Also," Li Ping'an said, "both of you go yourself. Don't limit yourselves to 211 schools; also target specialized institutions—Wuhan Surveying Institute, Changchun Optics and Mechanics Institute, Chengdu Telecommunications Engineering Institute… real talent hides there."

The next day, Li Ping'an went to Guangzhou.

In a suite at the Baiyun Hotel, he met Chen Jianghe.

Chen Jianghe had just returned from the Soviet Union, dusty and with dark circles, but his spirit was high.

"Brother, over there in the Soviet Union… it really fell into chaos."

He gulped a large mouthful of water and began to speak.

"Store shelves were empty, people queued for hours to buy bread. Factories halted, workers couldn't get paid. The army… the army fared even worse."

"Officers' salaries were three months overdue, soldiers' rations kept being cut. When I was there, I happened upon an armored division…"

"Not tanks, but diesel, tires, spare parts."

"I went through an intermediary and contacted several officers— a Colonel, a Division Commander, even a retired major general. They… they are willing to provide protection, provide intelligence, as long as they get paid."

"Through a middleman I reached several officers—colonels, Division Commanders, even a retired major general. They… they are willing to provide protection, provide intelligence, for money."

"That major general is named Ivanov, fifty‑five, and before retirement served in the General Staff," Chen Jianghe continued, "He has a list in his hand, all former colleagues short of money, some from the KGB, some from the GRU, and also from the missile forces."

"That major general is named Ivanov, fifty‑five, who served in the General Staff before retiring," Chen Jianghe continued. "He has a list of former colleagues in need of money—some from the KGB, some from the GRU, and even missile units."

"A monthly salary of $500, or the equivalent in gold," Chen Jianghe said, "He has seventeen men under him, all demanding this price."

"A monthly salary of five hundred dollars, or the equivalent in gold," Chen Jianghe said. "He has seventeen men under him, all demanding that price."

Li Ping'an calculated.

Eighteen people, nine thousand dollars a month, just over a hundred thousand a year. Not expensive.

"Agree to him," Li Ping'an said, "but there are a few conditions."

"You speak."

"First, these people must sign formal contracts and be managed by Wanshang Security Company."

"Second, their task is not warfare but intelligence gathering—economic intelligence, technical intelligence, talent intelligence."

"Third," Li Ping'an paused, "let them establish a network within the Soviet Union. From Moscow to Leningrad, from Kyiv to Vladivostok, I want to know what happens in the Soviet Union and when it will happen."

Chen Jianghe solemnly nodded.

"I understand."

In mid‑July, Li Yaozong and He Xiao began a nationwide recruitment tour.

The first stop, Harbin Institute of Technology.

The job fair was held in the school's gymnasium. A red banner read "Wanxiang Group Job Fair," with a few lines of small print below: "Monthly salary starting at three hundred, housing provided, children's schooling, full medical coverage."

Many people came, but few actually submitted resumes.

Many students stood at a distance, watching and whispering to each other.

"Wanxiang? Never heard of it."

"A private company, unstable, right?"

"The salary is indeed high…"

Li Yaozong stood on the podium, holding a microphone.

"Students, I know what you're worried about." His voice rang through the gym via the loudspeaker, "Worried that private companies are unstable, worried that Shenzhen is too far, worried about losing the iron rice bowl."

He paused.

"But I want to tell you, the times are changing. The country is implementing reform and opening up; the next ten, twenty years will be a golden era for the private economy."

"Wanxiang Group is not a small workshop. We have a bank in Hong Kong, investments in Japan, a company in the United States. We are building an industrial park in Shenzhen, constructing an R&D Center—we are building a future."

He raised the blueprint in his hand.

"This is the design plan for the Wanshang R&D Center. Inside will be the most advanced laboratories, the most complete equipment, the best working environment."

"We don't want you stuck in one position for a lifetime. We want you to innovate, to breakthrough, to create things that change the world."

The audience fell silent.

Students began to push forward.

"General Li, I study materials; do you have a materials laboratory?"

"We do!"

"I study computer science!"

"We are currently lacking computer talent!"

Resumes flew in like snowflakes.

At the same time, Chen Jianghe flew to Moscow again.

This time he brought two suitcases.

One suitcase contained cash in U. S. dollars—two hundred thousand.

The other suitcase held contracts, bilingual Chinese‑Russian, stamped with Wanxiang Group's official seal.

In a villa on the outskirts of Moscow, he met Major General Yi Wan Nuo Fu.

The major general was very tall, slightly hunch‑backed, dressed in old military uniform, but his leather shoes were polished to a shine. Behind him were a dozen or so people, men and women, all aged between forty and fifty, eyes sharp, bearing the vigilance of soldiers.

"Mr. Chen." Yi Wan Nuo Fu began, his Russian thick with rolled R's, "Did the money arrive?"

Chen Jianghe opened the suitcase.

The green U. S. dollars were stacked neatly.

A suppressed gasp rose from the room.

"This is the first month's salary," Chen Jianghe said, "the contract is here. Sign, and the money is yours."

Yi Wan Nuo Fu picked up the contract, put on his reading glasses, and examined it carefully.

The terms were clear: employed by Wanshang Security Company, responsible for intelligence gathering, obeying China's laws, and prohibited from engaging in activities that jeopardize China's national security.

"Scope of intelligence?" he asked.

"Economic, technical, talent," Chen Jianghe said, "especially military‑to‑civilian technology, and… those scientists and engineers whose lives are unsatisfactory."

Yi Wan Nuo Fu smiled, his smile cold.

"What the Soviet Union lacks most now are people whose lives are unsatisfactory."

He took up a pen and signed his name on the contract.

The others, one after another, signed and stamped their fingerprints.

From this moment, this intelligence network spanning Eurasia began to be woven.

At the end of August, Li Ping'an stood on a construction site in Shenzhen Pingshan.

The R&D Center had already topped out, its white building gleaming in the sunlight. In the distance, workers were laying roads and planting trees. Farther away, dormitory districts, schools, and Yi Yuan were under construction.

A complete new industrial city was rising.

Li Yaozong called from Beijing on the Telephone.

"Dad, the recruitment is going smoothly. Harbin Institute of Technology signed seven, Northwestern Polytechnical University nine, Beihang University eleven… a total of fifty‑three, all with master's degrees or higher and more than three years of work experience."

"Good." Li Ping'an said, "Arrange their lives, spouses' jobs, children's schooling—everything must be resolved."

"Understood."

Chen Jianghe also sent news from Moscow.

"The network is already laid out. Moscow, Leningrad, Kyiv, Minsk, Novosibirsk… all have our people. The first piece of intelligence will arrive in three days, concerning the Soviet automobile industry technology transfer."

"Stay safe."

"Don't worry."

Li Ping'an hung up the Telephone, looking at everything before him.

Hong Kong's banks, Japan's investments, America's tech stocks, the Soviet intelligence network, Shenzhen's industrial park, the nation's talent…

A great net has already been cast.

But the moment to haul in the net is still in the future.

In the distance, the sun is setting, and the evening glow reddens half the sky.

Like this era.

Fierce, glorious, brimming with limitless possibilities.

Li Ping'an took a deep breath.

The air carries the scent of dust, the smell of concrete, and the salty tang of evaporating sweat.

And the scent of hope.

It is strong, it is real.