Chapter 242: Eve of the Final Battle: The Mantis Seizes the Cicada, the Yellow Sparrow Lurks Behind!

"HK$400 million!" Wilson repeated the figure, his eyes flashing with a blood‑thirsty gleam: "That amount is astronomical for a Chinese country bumpkin; he'll never be able to pay it back in his lifetime! When the time comes he'll have to kneel before me, beg for mercy, and ask me for a way out!"

He walked to the desk, picked up the Montblanc fountain pen worth HK$100,000, and wrote the three characters "Lu Qingshan" on a sheet of paper, then he drew a large cross over it with force: "A grassroots‑born nouveau riche like Lu Qingshan thinks that making a few bucks lets him stand on equal footing with us? He doesn't realize that a true Financial War can't be won by luck; it requires deep foundation and overwhelming power. Those are things someone like him will never possess."

He approached the portrait of the British queen hanging on the wall—a genuine oil painting worth several million Hong Kong dollars. A fanatical light flashed in his eyes, and his voice took on a religious reverence: "The British Empire has ruled this land for over a hundred years, building an incomparable civilization. Could a yellow‑skinned youngster ever shake it? I will make him understand what noble blood means, what imperial majesty is, what the gap between civilization and barbarism is!"

He lifted a glass of whiskey and took a sip, the rich aroma of the fine spirit spreading through his mouth, intoxicating him further. A lofty sense of superiority and deep racial contempt shone in his eyes: "When he finally concedes defeat, I will meet that clueless young man in person, make him kneel before me and admit that Chinese can never overcome United Kingdom gentlemen. I will let every Chinese on Hong Kong Island see the fate of those who oppose us! Let them remember this lesson forever!"

Yuehan Xun echoed from beside him, his voice equally excited and malicious: "Brilliant sir! After tomorrow the Chinese Chamber of Commerce will collapse, Lu Qingshan will be disgraced and will never lift his head again on Hong Kong Island. Then we will not only reap huge profits, but also re‑establish Yingzi's absolute authority on Hong Kong Island. Two birds with one stone—what a brilliant scheme! This will become a classic case in Hong Kong Island's financial history!"

Meanwhile, in the Xinghan Group's exclusive Trading Room, the atmosphere was completely different: a massive electronic screen covered an entire wall, densely packed with real‑time data. Dozens of traders sat at state‑of‑the‑art Bloomberg Terminals, each with multiple monitors in front of them.

Lu Qingshan sat at his desk, a pure solid‑wood piece imported from Italy, simple yet elegant. In front of him lay a thick capital‑flow analysis report, housed in a kraft‑paper folder whose cover bore the gold‑stamped title "Top‑Secret Intelligence".

The report came from an informant Lu Qingshan had placed inside the Yingzi Group, documenting every outflow of the group's funds, each operation's timing, and even Wilson's psychological state in detail—as if it were a map of Wilson's moves. Every page was annotated with timestamps and sources, demonstrating a professional level of intelligence collection.

The report showed that the Yingzi Group's total investment today had reached HK$7.8 billion, exactly HK$800 million more than yesterday. More importantly, Wilson had mobilized virtually all Yingzi forces; even the usually most conservative insurance companies were convinced to join, and some United Kingdom retirement funds on Hong Kong Island were also mobilized, proving Wilson had poured blood and treasure into this venture.

"Boss, the intelligence report you gave shows that Wilson's side poured in another HK$800 million today," Ye Ning rushed forward to report, excitement and a hint of tension on her face, clutching the latest trading data. "At this crazy pace, they'll definitely keep adding tomorrow. Our Long Position is already netting over HK$800 million, and the Chinese Chamber of Commerce's enterprises combined have profited more than HK$2 billion! But…"

She paused, glanced at the Short Position figures, a trace of concern flashing across her face: "Our Short Position loss is also widening, now exceeding HK$350 million. Although overall we're still hugely profitable, this roller‑coaster feeling is truly exhilarating. The numbers on the ledger shift so fast they make the heart pound."

The others in the Trading Room also focused on the topic; a few young traders whispered, having never witnessed such a massive capital showdown. A Financial War of this magnitude is worthy of being recorded in Hong Kong Island's Financial History Book.

Lu Qingshan nodded, a deep gleam flashing in his eyes, reminiscent of an unfathomable ancient well. A barely perceptible cold smile curled at his mouth, a smile full of wit and scheming: "Wilson, that old fox, is still too confident—perhaps too arrogant. He thinks he sees our retreat, but in fact he's seeing the trap we've meticulously prepared. A perfect trap laid over so long, costing so much effort."

He rose and walked to the massive electronic screen, which spanned an entire wall and was the most advanced equipment imported from Japan. The screen was densely packed with countless data points, red and green numbers flickering continuously like a market's electrocardiogram. To him those seemingly chaotic figures formed a clear rhythm, like a grand symphony in performance.

"Ye Ning, do you know what Wilson is thinking right now?" Lu Qingshan asked abruptly, his voice carrying a wisdom that seemed to see through everything, like a mind‑reading magician.

"He definitely thinks we're about to crumble, waiting for us to cut losses and beg," Ye Ning mused, a cunning sparkle in her eyes, excitement barely concealed in her voice. "He never imagined we'd secretly built such a massive Long Position. A HK$1.5 billion Long against a HK$500 million Short gives us a net Long of HK$1 billion! It's a perfect camouflage!"

Her voice grew even more excited, her hands instinctively clenching into fists: "And the Chinese Chamber of Commerce's enterprises combined have a Long Position already exceeding HK$5 billion! Wilson thinks he's cornering us, but he's actually shouldering our sedan chair! Every cent he puts in adds to our profit! This feeling is amazing!"

The others in the Trading Room, hearing that figure, couldn't help but gasp. A HK$5 billion Long Position—what a colossal scale! If the Hang Seng Index keeps climbing, this would translate into an astronomical profit.

"Exactly," Lu Qingshan said, turning, a hunter's grin on his face as his eyes burned with a dangerous, captivating light: "Wilson's greatest flaw is his arrogance, coupled with a deep‑rooted racial prejudice. To him, Chinese are forever the weak, mere ants to be trampled, never capable of overcoming the noble Yingzi Group. It is this entrenched bias that prevents him from seeing the true state of affairs."

His voice deepened, resonant with kingly authority, each word heavy with power: "He is now like an enraged bull provoked by a red banner, charging forward blindly, unaware that a cliff lies ahead. We are the matador standing at the edge, a lethal sword in hand. Tomorrow is the day we cast our net. It's time to make that proud Englishman understand what Chinese wisdom truly is!"