Chapter 215: Red Sincerity Casts Gold, Opening a Dangerous Scheme

Lin Yu suddenly leaned forward, his gaze blazing, staring directly at Lu Xuan: "Lu Xuan, your story is moving, and your analysis makes sense."

His voice carried a hint of contempt: "But," he emphasized, each word hammering the air like a nail, "I, Lin Yu, never engage in losing trades. Why should I give up the twenty million dollars about to be in my grasp for a vague 'Nanjiang Opportunity' and a person I cannot trust at all?"

He spread his hands, adopting a helpless posture: "Trust? In these chaotic times, it's the least valuable thing."

Lu Xuan did not shrink from Lin Yu's aggressive stance. On the contrary, he met Lin Yu's gaze, a puzzlingly confident curve lifting his mouth: "Commander Lin, you're not lacking trust; you're merely weighing risk and reward."

His voice was calm and resolute: "You're intrigued, aren't you? Otherwise you wouldn't have talked with me for so long."

The remark made Lin Yu's eyes tighten slightly. Lu Xuan continued, each word seemingly calculated: "What you worry about is nothing more than my true purpose and whether I have the ability to fulfill my promise."

The air in the reception room seemed to solidify. Feng An held his breath, watching the two young titans clash with words.

Lu Xuan inhaled deeply, then switched tone. His voice was low yet filled with a startling power: "Do you think I want to eliminate Lu Xiao and replace him?" He chuckled self‑deprecatingly, "Perhaps."

But immediately, his gaze became unusually firm: "For me, shedding the shackles imposed by the Lu Family, seizing my own destiny, and no longer being anyone's pawn…" He paused, a fierce light flashing in his eyes, "That 'freedom' is far more alluring than that position."

This unexpected confession shifted the entire room's atmosphere. Lin Yu looked at Lu Xuan thoughtfully, trying to spot any trace of falsehood in his expression. He only saw a near‑obsessive sincerity—a person long confined in a cage yearning for freedom.

Lu Xuan's confession might be only part of the truth, yet it deftly redirected the negotiation's focus from "whether he is trustworthy" to "whether there are shared interests and a basis for cooperation."

He was hinting to Lin Yu: a person yearning to break free from shackles is easier to control and more trustworthy than an ambitious heir.

The crystal chandelier cast a soft halo between them, illuminating this subtle psychological duel.

After hearing Lu Xuan's words, Lin Yu suddenly gave a light clap. The applause echoed in the reception room, carrying a chillingly sarcastic tone.

"Well said!" a playful smile appeared on his face, "Freedom! What a melodious word." But immediately, his gaze turned icy, like a north wind in a winter's night, "Unfortunately, I, Lin Yu, never believe in hollow slogans and vague promises."

He stood and began pacing in the reception room. His leather shoes clicked softly against the Persian carpet.

"In this world," his tone carried a world‑worn cynicism, "there is no eternal loyalty, nor any unbreakable promise." He halted, turned to Lu Xuan, "The so‑called bottom line, morality, even the 'freedom' you speak of…"

His voice grew even colder: "As long as the stakes are enticing enough, they can be overturned or trampled at any time."

Lin Yu stepped before Lu Xuan, looking down from above: "What you say is, to me, worth nothing."

Lin Yu sat back on the sofa, his slender fingers picking up the Browning pistol on the table, twirling it under the light. The barrel glimmered with a cold metallic sheen, as if silently narrating the world's law.

"Unless…" his gaze remained on the pistol, his voice calm to the point of indifference, "you can produce a 'sincerity' I cannot refuse." He lifted his head, staring into Lu Xuan's eyes, "Otherwise, twenty million dollars, not a cent less."

The atmosphere in the reception room grew oppressive again. Lin Yu employed the coldest realism, mercilessly shattering Lu Xuan's idealized rhetoric. He pulled the negotiation back to the fundamental exchange of interests— in this law‑of‑the‑jungle world, only tangible, visible stakes are true weights.

Lu Xuan sat opposite, facing Lin Yu's stark realism, his expression still calm.

Yet in those eyes flickered an elusive glint, as if contemplating something.

Lu Xuan watched the pistol Lin Yu toyed with, seemingly having anticipated this line. They no longer tried to explain anything with words, and a resolute expression suddenly appeared on their face.

"Commander Lin," he said, staring into Lin Yu's eyes, his tone calm yet bearing undeniable force, "why not gamble a hand?"

"Gamble?" Lin Yu scoffed, a hint of sarcasm flashing in his eyes, "Betting twenty million dollars on your future and my 'Nanjiang Opportunity'?" He slammed the pistol onto the table, "Lu Xuan, do you think I'm a fool? Twenty million is enough for me to raise more troops and acquire more artillery!"

Lu Xuan said no more.

Just as Lin Yu finished speaking, he suddenly reached into his coat. The move made Feng An tense instantly, his hand already resting on the sidearm. But Lu Xuan produced a delicate leather checkbook.

The deep‑brown calf‑skin cover bore gold‑stamped "Lando Trading House" letters that glittered in the light.

Under Lin Yu's and Feng An's astonished gazes, Lu Xuan swiftly tore off a blank check. He grabbed the pen on the table and scribbled "swish swish swish," the pen racing across the paper. The composed demeanor suggested he wasn't writing an astronomic sum but signing an ordinary note.

After writing, he slid the check toward Lin Yu, his voice decisive: "Eight million cash dollars." His gaze was iron‑steady, "With this note, Commander Lin can withdraw at the French Concession's Lando Trading House at any time." He paused, each word like a nail, "Is this sincerity enough to make you… gamble a hand?"

The reception room fell into a terrifying silence.

Lin Yu lowered his head, staring at the check, his eyes tightening slightly. Eight million dollars was no small sum. Even in this warlord‑splintered chaos, it was enough to reshape a region's power balance.

Feng An involuntarily held his breath. He knew Lando Trading House's reputation—it was one of Shen City's largest trading houses; if this check were genuine…

This heavyweight bomb instantly shifted the negotiation's landscape. The eight‑million‑dollar check not only displayed Lu Xuan's wealth but, more importantly, his all‑or‑nothing resolve. It was no longer a simple gesture of goodwill, but a genuine high‑stakes gamble.

The crystal chandelier's light fell on the check, reflecting a figure that could make anyone's heart race.