Chapter 957: Zhou Andong, Unworthy Son

Yuan Wanqi checked the time: “I’ll immediately call a meeting.”

Zhou Andong said: “Besides the eighty million U.S. dollars from Qiudong, Jiandong International will also invest two hundred million U.S. dollars. So once we enter the market, don’t rush—we have a full month to gradually accumulate positions, and absolutely must not cause major fluctuations in white sugar prices.”

“I understand!”

Yuan Wanqi nodded solemnly, a flicker of excitement stirring inside her. Since becoming general manager of Qiudong, this was the first time she was managing such a massive capital operation.

It wasn’t that Qiudong’s account lacked funds—when the company was founded, Jiandong International had transferred two hundred fifty million U.S. dollars. But whether it was Wu Huilin or Yuan Wanqi, they had always followed Zhou Andong’s instructions, constantly monitoring the Mexican peso.

They had even stationed personnel there to collect daily news—political or financial—and send summaries back to Xiangjiang once a week. At first, they found nothing unusual, until recently, when they finally spotted a few telltale signs.

In recent years, Mexico had suffered severe inflation, so to curb it, the government implemented a fixed exchange rate policy: using foreign capital inflows to prop up its already weak currency, keeping the peso-dollar rate largely stable.

But recently, the peso-dollar exchange rate had begun to fluctuate—though within a very narrow range. Without Zhou Andong’s warning, such minor fluctuations would have gone unnoticed; with his warning, they became alarming.

Especially with Mexico’s presidential election next year, signs of social unrest had emerged. Everyone knew Mexico’s security situation was already poor, and this made some sharp-minded individuals sense danger.

Yuan Wanqi’s team also discovered that foreign capital was already withdrawing from Mexico, giving them a strong sense of something unusual brewing. Thus, their investments in financial markets had always been small, strictly short-term, yielding modest profits—barely enough to matter.

Yuan Wanqi left and returned to the company to summon everyone for a meeting.

For a financial firm, an unexpected meeting at this hour meant major moves were coming.

No matter what they were doing—even if they were lying on a woman’s belly—they’d immediately grab their gear and leave.

Because a major operation meant commissions for them.

Mostly, they’d been with Qiudong for a while—nearly a year now.

There had been no big moves, only petty skirmishes; if they hadn’t known Qiudong’s true strength, they’d have quit long ago.

………………

In London, it was just past noon. Alice was about to have lunch when the phone on her desk rang.

She picked it up and heard the voice of the big boss: “Boss!”

Alice froze, then her expression grew increasingly excited; after hanging up, she clenched her fist tightly.

Since their short position on the pound, Jiandong International had made no major moves, merely monitoring stocks.

Later, they held only a few stocks they believed in—those with strong upward momentum—and sold off all the rest.

So like Qiudong, they traded short-term, but their profits far surpassed Qiudong’s.

Alice skipped lunch entirely and immediately called a meeting to deploy long positions in white sugar futures.

………………

In Hong Kong, the Peninsula Hotel!

Jian Qiu had just hung up the phone when a knock came at the door.

Zhou Andong checked the time—it was already past seven p.m.

“Come in!”

The door opened, and Wu Hongkang and Zhang Shenghui entered.

Zhou Andong smiled: “You’ve worked all day—why not get some rest?”

“Can’t,” Wu Hongkang said. “Unresolved doubts keep me awake.”

Jian Qiu poured tea for the three: “Wu Changchang, Zhang Zong, please sit.”

Wu Hongkang and Zhang Shenghui sat down.

Zhou Andong smiled warmly at Zhang Shenghui, making Zhang’s skin crawl.

Look at this sleazy bastard—if Wu hadn’t dragged me here, do you think I’d come?

“I’m the one who dragged old Zhang here,” Wu Hongkang sighed, shaking his head.

Zhou Andong found this honest old man frustrating.

“You want to know about Jiandong International?”

“Yes!” Wu Hongkang stared intently at Zhou Andong; Zhang Shenghui did the same.

“It’s a long story.”

Zhou Andong lit a cigarette, leaned back, and crossed his legs.

Wu Hongkang and Zhang Shenghui instinctively straightened up, listening intently.

A company capable of investing two hundred million U.S. dollars in futures must have far deeper capital than it showed.

Worse still, the company belonged to Zhou Andong.

Especially Zhang Shenghui—he’d been fighting tooth and nail in China, treating Zhou Andong as his greatest rival.

He’d held his own against Zhou Andong for years, even feeling a bit proud of it.

But today he realized: he’d used every weapon—swords, spears, axes, halberds, all thirty-six martial arts.

Meanwhile, Zhou Andong had focused entirely overseas, and dealt with him using nothing more than a toothpick, just a casual wave of the hand. It left him deeply frustrated.

“Honestly, I was just bored, so I set up a company overseas, borrowed some U.S. dollars from friends, and accidentally made money…”

He held up his fingers, counting: “Four, five, six, seven, eight hundred million U.S. dollars.”

The arrogance of this man deserved the title “King of Bragging.”

But to Wu Hongkang and Zhang Shenghui, it sounded like: bored, set up a company overseas, borrowed a few U.S. dollars, and accidentally made seven or eight hundred million?

I… damn it, how can you even say that? Are you even human?

“Unworthy son Zhou Andong”—that’s what one of Zhang Shenghui’s friends called him. The friend ran a small local beverage factory, serving only nearby counties and towns, with annual revenue of barely a hundred thousand yuan.

But Zhou Andong’s “One More Bottle” campaign had still hit his business hard, so the friend had cursed Zhou Andong daily during that period.

Zhang Shenghui looked at Zhou Andong and silently muttered: Old friend, you’re right—Zhou Andong truly is an unworthy son.

Wu Hongkang took a deep breath: seven or eight hundred million U.S. dollars—how many Hongxing Distilleries could that buy? More importantly, it was Zhou Andong’s personal wealth.

He didn’t know that Zhou Andong had deliberately understated the figure, fearing it would shock them.

Zhang Shenghui cursed inwardly, yet his admiration for Zhou Andong remained undiminished.

Setting up a company overseas and making this much money? He, Zhang Shenghui, could never do it.

“Zhou Dong!” Zhang Shenghui sighed: “No wonder you could invest two hundred million U.S. dollars in futures—you accidentally made seven or eight hundred million.”

“Pfft!”

Zhou Andong waved his hand: “Don’t mention it. A while back, I accidentally donated twenty million U.S. dollars to the Central Academy of Fine Arts. This time, I’ve got to make it back in the futures market—earn several times more interest, or it’ll be a total loss.”