Chapter 443: First Battle in the City of Mist

The arrivals hall of London Heathrow Airport was filled with a stale odor of disinfectant, old carpet and damp wool coats.

Zhou Wenbin carried his briefcase and moved slowly with the crowd.

The customs officer was a middle‑aged man with a ruddy complexion and a thick beard; he took Zhou Wenbin's passport, opened it, glanced at it, then raised his eyes to size up the well‑dressed man of clearly East Asian appearance before him.

"Hong Kong?" the officer's tone stretched habitually. "Purpose of coming to Britain?"

"Business negotiations," Zhou Wenbin replied in fluent English, his tone steady.

"Business?" the officer raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over Zhou Wenbin's simple suitcase and briefcase. "Which company invited you? What exactly?"

Zhou Wenbin gave the English name of the Wanshang Bank Hong Kong Branch and the name of a cooperating law firm in London.

That was what Gu Zhixing had repeatedly reminded him before departure: presenting himself as a "Hong Kong financial institution" would make the first contact smoother.

The officer stamped the passport leisurely, and as he returned it, he seemed to mutter casually, "Now capital from the Far East all wants to try their luck in London."

His voice was low, but clear enough.

Zhou Wenbin's expression did not change as he took the passport and gave a slight nod, "Thank you."

Turning to leave, he inhaled gently the damp, cold air of early London winter that filled his chest.

That mutter was like a tiny ice needle, reminding him of the environment he was about to face.

His driver was Luo Bo'an.

He drove an older Jaguar, the body well maintained, though the leather seats showed some wear.

"Mr. Zhou, welcome to London."

Luo Bo'an placed his luggage, "President Gu's first informal meeting with the other side's handling team is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. The venue is an old‑established club in the Financial City, relatively private."

The car entered the city, and Zhou Wenbin looked out the window.

The gray sky hung low, the brick and stone buildings were heavy and somber, the streets narrow, pedestrians hurried—so unlike Hong Kong's dense, frenetic vitality.

Everything here seemed veiled in a layer of time‑worn glaze—elegant, yet frozen by some invisible barrier.

"How is their attitude?" Zhou Wenbin asked.

"Cautious, or rather, restrained."

Luo Bo'an chose his words carefully, "The Bank of England has appointed a liquidation team to handle the disposition of Matthew Bank's assets. The person in charge is Charles Whittington, a typical 'old‑Financial City' type, the sort whose ancestors may have managed money for Queen Victoria. He regards this sale as an 'unpleasant cleanup job' and maintains a politely distant stance toward potential buyers from… hmm, the Far East."

"Polite distance?" Zhou Wenbin repeated the phrase.

"It means they won't refuse you outright, but they'll make you feel everywhere that you're an 'outsider' who must be scrutinized."

Luo Bo'an shrugged, "They see Australia West Pacific Bank as a more 'natural' choice, both being Commonwealth members with similar cultures. We are a backup, even a chip to pressure West Pacific Bank."

Zhou Wenbin nodded, unsurprised. President Li had long anticipated this.

"What about He Xiao?" he changed the subject.

"Manager He and his small team arrive tomorrow."

Luo Bo'an smiled, "He's raring to go, gave me a long list of car factories and R&D centers he wants to see, from Coventry to Turin. I've already contacted several intermediaries, but the feedback… isn't optimistic. Many old plants, hearing the inquiry comes from Hong Kong, show little interest, thinking we might just want to buy a few antique cars or arrange a tour."

The hotel is in the Mayfair District, not ultra‑luxurious but respectable enough.

After checking in, Zhou Wenbin immediately made a Telephone call to Hong Kong.

The international long‑distance line had some static, but Li Ping'an's steady voice came through quickly.

"Wenbin, arrived?"

"Arrived, President Li. The situation is basically as Luo Bo'an estimated."

"Hmm, as expected. Remember two points: First, we are the buyer offering a 'solution', not a beggar. They need money to fill the hole and keep the market respectable; that's the angle to seize. Second, be neither servile nor arrogant; speak with professionalism and strength. The concrete negotiation floor and strategy are for you, Gu Zhixing, and Luo Bo'an to handle."

"Understood. He Xiao arrives tomorrow; I'll also oversee the automotive‑technology research here."

"He Xiao is enthusiastic but prone to impulsiveness. Keep your foot steady. Technical cooperation or acquisition is more complex than financial mergers, involving patents, talent, equipment transfer; it can't be rushed. First, make broad contacts, gather information, and pinpoint the real pain points."

He hung up the phone, and Zhou Wenbin stood by the room's window.

Outside the window was a typical London street, wet, with occasional black taxis passing by. A faint smell of coal smoke lingered in the air.

He recalled the revelry after the rainy night in Tokyo, and the strategic planning in a Hong Kong Central conference room.

Now the battlefield has shifted to this ancient city famed for its fog and conservatism. Here the rules are more obscure, the arrogance more entrenched.

But he felt no fear, only a calm desire for challenge.

President Li was right—speak with professionalism and strength.

The second afternoon, Financial City.

The club was hidden behind the stone portico of a Georgian‑style building; inside were dark wooden paneling, heavy Persian carpets, and leather sofas.

The air mixed cigar smoke, aged whisky, and leather; vague oil paintings on the walls depicted seafaring or hunting scenes from centuries ago.

Charles Whittington was in his fifties, his silver‑white hair meticulously combed, wearing a well‑tailored dark‑gray suit with a silk tie.

A young assistant and an observer from the Bank of England were at his side.

Gu Zhixing, Zhou Wenbin, and Luo Bo'an attended on behalf of Wanshang Bank.

The small talk was courteous yet restrained, spoken in the most standard British accent.

"President Gu, Mr. Zhou, welcome to London."

Whittington's handshake was brief and firm. "We appreciate your interest in Matthew Bank's assets. However, I must be frank: this disposition is extremely complex, involving massive bad‑asset stripping, client‑relationship handling, and… the sensitivity of preserving the reputation of London's financial market."

As he spoke, his gaze mainly fell on Gu Zhixing and Luo Bo'an; Zhou Wenbin, the younger "deputy," received only a cursory, polite glance.

"We understand the complexity, Mr. Whittington."

Gu Zhixing smiled in reply, unhurried, "Precisely because it is complex, perhaps a new perspective and solution are needed. Although Wanshang Bank's headquarters are in Hong Kong, our operations fully follow international standards, and we have experience handling similar cases in Asian markets. More importantly, we bring long‑term commitment, not short‑term arbitrage motives."

"Your sincerity is commendable."

Whittington lifted his bone‑china teacup, took a delicate sip, "But experience… forgive my bluntness, the financial game rules in London may differ from those in the Far East. Matthew Bank's issues are not just a few bad loans; they also affect market confidence, especially the credibility of the gold‑pricing mechanism."

His words were diplomatic, but the subtext was clear: can you play the game? Are you worthy of this seat?

Zhou Wenbin had listened quietly until then, then spoke fluently in English, his tone calm: "Mr. Whittington, market confidence rests on transparency and ultimate solvency. Matthew Bank's loss of confidence stems from internally uncontrolled risk management. The primary task after Wanshang Bank's acquisition is, under the guidance of the Bank of England and regulators, to build a more transparent, more robust risk‑control system and inject sufficient capital. That itself is the best way to rebuild confidence."

He paused, then continued: "As for the gold‑price seat, it represents responsibility and reputation, not privilege. We are willing to undergo the strictest qualification review and ongoing supervision to ensure that the operation of this seat meets the highest standards of the London market. We believe that a well‑capitalized, tightly managed new shareholder can preserve the long‑term value of this seat better than an old structure that barely holds together and still harbors hidden risks."

Zhou Wenbin's words were not overbearing, but his logic was clear, directly hitting the core—what you want is a solution to the problem; we can provide a solution and are willing to follow your rules.

Hui Tingdon set down his tea cup and, for the first time, truly looked carefully at Zhou Wenbin. This young man seemed not to be merely the novice he had initially thought, merely following to see the world.

"Very… professional perspective."

Hui Tingdon's tone became slightly more formal, "Then, regarding the acquisition consideration and subsequent capital injection, does your side have an initial framework?"

The negotiation truly began.

But Zhou Wenbin knew the biggest obstacle was not the price figure, but the invisible wall called "Pride and Prejudice".

In the following days, negotiations alternated between clubs and law‑firm conference rooms.

Progress moved as slowly as the thick fog over the Thames.

The other side nitpicked every detail, repeatedly questioning Wanxiang Bank's qualifications, source of funds, and the composition of its future management team.

That superiority and distrust hidden beneath politeness was like the lingering cigar smoke in the room.

At the same time, He Xiao also arrived in London.

This energetic young man was soon drenched by the cold water of reality.

The intermediaries contacted by Luo Bo'an arranged for him to have preliminary talks with several automotive parts suppliers and a small design studio on the brink of collapse.

The other side's reaction was more blunt than the bank's.

The head of a gearbox‑parts factory in the Birmingham suburbs, after hearing He Xiao describe Wanxiang Group's plan to build an automotive industrial park in Shenzhen, laughed without concealment: "Cars? China? Sorry, youngster, we're more accustomed to dealing with Germany, Japan, or at least Koreans. Cars are precision industry, not sewing machines."

Another design studio in Turin, Italy, communicated through a translator; its attitude was slightly better, but interest was scant. "We can take on consulting projects, such as providing some aesthetic suggestions for your… um, 'product'. But technical cooperation? Patent licensing? I think you may not yet understand the value and complexity involved."

He Xiao, seething, returned to the hotel and complained to Zhou Wenbin: "Uncle Zhou! What kind of look did they give us! As if we crawled out of a primeval forest and wanted to trade glass beads with them!"

Zhou Wenbin poured him a glass of water: "Now you see why Li Zong said 'the stone from another mountain' is hard to borrow, right? In their eyes, we're children who just learned to walk, trying to join the Olympic 100‑meter dash. Prejudice doesn't form in a day, nor will a few words dispel it."

The turning point appeared at a seemingly accidental social dinner.

The banquet was secured by Luo Bo'an through private connections and held at the residence of a senior lawyer in the Financial District.

Most attendees were from the legal and financial sectors.

Zhou Wenbin originally disliked such occasions, but Gu Zhixing thought it was an opportunity to break the deadlock and showcase the image.

At the dinner, Zhou Wenbin kept a low‑key observation. He noticed that despite the prejudice, these British elites had a keen nose for "capital" itself.

When they learned that behind Wanxiang Bank was Hong Kong capital that had recently made a splash in the Tokyo market and intended long‑term investment in Europe, some began to show more substantive interest.

A retired director with close ties to the Bank of England, while chatting casually with Zhou Wenbin, seemed to unintentionally point out: "Charles is an old‑fashioned man who values tradition and stability. But the people above him care more about resolving the Matthew Bank trouble quickly and quietly, avoiding unsightly notes in the new fiscal year report. West Pacific Bank's quote is reassuring politically, but its commercial terms are extremely harsh, and negotiations have stalled. If now there were a quote equally competitive but with more flexible terms and faster funding…"

Zhou Wenbin's heart stirred, and he raised his glass: "Thank you for your insight; it is very enlightening."

After the dinner, he immediately met with Gu Zhixing and Luo Bo'an.

"We need to adjust the strategy."

Zhou Wenbin analyzed, "We cannot stay tangled in defensive details. We must go on the offensive, present a 'one‑stop' package that the senior Bank of England officials find hard to refuse. Emphasize our rapid funding—leveraging liquidity in Hong Kong and Tokyo markets; promise to retain most local employees, soothing unions and public opinion; most importantly, on the acquisition price we can accept a more 'decent' symbolic figure, but demand greater autonomy and clearer boundaries on subsequent bad‑debt carve‑outs and capital‑supplement agreements. At the same time, pledge that for the gold‑price seat's operation we will hire independent, highly respected British experts to supervise."

"That means we will bear more early‑stage risk and cost," Gu Zhixing mused.

"But it can pry the deadlock open faster and secure substantive control."

Luo Bo'an's eyes brightened, "And it shows our determination and ability to solve problems, which works better than any verbal promise."

"Li Zong once said, you have to see what lies beneath the surface."

Zhou Wenbin's gaze was firm, "The arrogance on the surface is just the tip of the iceberg; the urgency beneath the surface is the current that drives the iceberg. We will use that current."

After the new proposal was submitted through official channels, the negotiation pace indeed changed.

Charles Hui Tingdon, though still restrained, showed less perfunctory tone and began discussing technical details more concretely.

Clearly, this proposal struck a nerve of the real decision‑maker behind him.

At the same time, Zhou Wenbin also had He Xiao adjust the direction of the automotive technology research.

"Stop trying to contact those proud big factories or core studios directly."

Zhou Wenbin told He Xiao, "Shift the target to 'people'. Through headhunting firms, industry magazines, university labs, look for disgruntled engineers, retired technical experts, laid‑off tech workers who still have real skill. Especially those dissatisfied with the current management system or feeling underappreciated."

He handed He Xiao a list that Luo Bo'an had gathered of potential candidates: "Approach them privately, under the name of Wanxiang Asia R&D Center, offer competitive compensation, research freedom and a chance to 'build an automotive industry from scratch'. Don't start with patent acquisition; first discuss cooperation, project consulting, and build trust."

He Xiao thought, "Poaching? That's an angle. Technology lives in people's heads, more vibrant than blueprints locked in a safe."

"Exactly." Zhou Wenbin nodded, "And through these people we can truly discern which technologies are worth buying, which patents are key, which factories are really on the brink. This is called 'encircling the city from the countryside'."

He Xiao laughed, "Uncle Zhou, you used that phrase well! I'll get right on it!"

A few days later, Zhou Wenbin received a Telephone from Li Ping'an calling from Hong Kong.

After hearing Zhou Wenbin's report, Li Ping'an was silent for a moment on the other end of the Telephone.

"The strategy adjustment was timely."

Li Ping'an affirmed, "The Old Foxes in the Financial District value practical benefit and risk control above all. Your proposal hit the pain point. Keep pushing, but in the final agreement, the 'firewall' clause on bad‑asset carve‑out must be vetted by the top‑most law firm, with not a single word ambiguous."

"I understand, President Li. Managing Director Gu and Luo Bo'an are keeping a close eye."

"On the automotive side, opening the mindset is right. Talent is fundamental. But watch the method, stay legal and compliant, avoid unnecessary labor disputes or lawsuits. We can promise to help with work visas, and provide some assistance with family resettlement. We seek hearts and technology, not trouble."

"Good. He Xiao may be rash, but his learning ability is strong; he's already grasped the gist."

At the end of the call, Li Ping'an's tone softened: "Wenbin, you've worked hard. On someone else's turf, facing someone else's rules and prejudice, every step is difficult. Keep your composure and wisdom. Remember, we are not begging for acceptance; we are proving value. When the value is large enough, the arrogant copper wall will crack open."

He set the Telephone down, Zhou Wenbin walked to the window.

London's night was deep, the lights on the Thames blurred in the mist.

Pride and Prejudice still lingered, like the city's persistent damp cold.

But he had already found the fissure, and he steadied the humble yet sharp tip of his sword into it.

The first round of clashes was far from over.

Yet the initiative was quietly shifting hands.