Chapter 248: Wilson Cuts Losses and Flees, Taigu Group

Sir Wilson Sashun slumped in the luxurious top‑floor office of Taigu Group, the Italy‑leather sofa worth HK$100,000 feeling ice‑cold to him. His hands kept trembling; the hands that once elegantly held a cigar could now not even steady a cup of tea. Beyond the huge floor‑to‑ceiling windows, Victoria Harbour's nightscape was dazzling, yet to him the lights seemed dim and lifeless, like his shattered Financial Empire.

Despair hung in the office, and the ornaments that usually symbolized power and wealth—priceless antique vases, a medal personally awarded by the Queen, photos with foreign dignitaries—now looked utterly ironic. Wilson's suit was rumpled, his tie askew, his hair disheveled, completely lacking the usual elegance of a United Kingdom gentleman.

"Yuehan Xun, liquidate now!" Wilson's voice was hoarsely terrifying; his right fist slammed into the mahogany desk, producing a dull thud. The expensive crystal ashtray jumped, scattering cigar ash across the table. "Clear all Index Futures Contracts as fast as possible! I don't want to see those damned red numbers again! I don't want to see Lu Qingshan's hateful Chinese face again!"

His voice was filled with hysterical anger and Fear, and the emotion spread through the whole office. The portrait of the Queen on the wall seemed to mock his failure, the regal eyes appearing to say: you have embarrassed the British Empire.

Yuehan Xun watched Wilson's forehead bulge with blue veins, cold sweat streaming down, beads the size of beans constantly dripping onto the carpet. He had been in the business for twenty years and had never seen Wilson so out of control. The gentleman who usually moved with the elegance of a Shakespearean character now looked more disheveled than a beggar.

"Sir Wilson, the buy side is thin right now; if we sell on this scale, prices will fall even harder and our losses will…" Yuehan Xun cautioned, his voice trembling. He knew any words now would only add fuel to the fire, but as trading director he had to fulfill his duty.

"I don't care about the price!" Wilson erupted, leapt from his chair, roaring, his voice echoing through the vast office, shaking the windows. "If we don't run now, there'll be nothing left later! That damned Chinese kid wants to wipe us out! Go execute! Immediately! Right now!"

His face flushed scarlet, bloodshot eyes, he looked like a beast driven to the brink. The blend of desperation and rage made Yuehan Xun feel deep Fear.

Yuehan Xun dared not say more, hurried to the Trading Room, his steps so frantic he nearly fell. The Trading Hall of Taigu Group was a mess, dozens of traders pale‑faced staring at screens, each face etched with despair. The frantic clatter of keyboards sounded like a symphony of hopelessness.

"My God, our paper loss has already exceeded 2.5 billion!" a young trader shouted, his voice pitched differently.

"It's still falling! Still falling!" another trader cried in desperation, "It's a nightmare!"

Despair hung over the whole Trading Room, and the once‑confident financial elites now wilted like frost‑bitten eggplants. They finally realized they were not facing an ordinary opponent, but a true Financial Giant Shark.

At 1 p. m., the sell‑off began.

The massive Index Futures Contracts flooded the market like a breached dam, each sell order a heavy bomb stirring huge ripples. Yet the buy orders were pitifully few, like a few drops of water in a desert, evaporating instantly. The Hang Seng Index, which had just steadied, was instantly smashed into a bottomless pit.

Each time the price broke a whole‑number threshold, Yuehan Xun's heart sank a notch and his cold sweat poured even more. He frantically tweaked the sell‑off strategy, trying to soften the impact on the stock price, but the effect was minimal. It was like trying to dam a torrent—any effort seemed insignificant. The numbers laughed like a devil's chuckle, constantly mocking their incompetence.

Worse still, rumors spread through the market like a plague. Some reports claimed Lu Qingshan had built an even larger Short Position, launching a second round of hunting on the Hang Seng Index. Others said the Chinese Chamber of Commerce had prepared hundreds of billions of capital to drive the British Capital Group out of Hong Kong Island. Still others alleged Lu Qingshan had mainland backing, making this a premeditated Financial War.

When these rumors spread, retail investors and small firms that had been watching suddenly joined the sell‑off army. Panic spread like a virus, each person thinking of escaping if they could.

The securities trading floors across Hong Kong Island boiled again, but this time from panic rather than excitement. The spacious trading halls were packed with frantic investors, each face marked with despair and anger.

"Help! The stock I just bought fell again! My pension is gone!" an elderly man cried out in desperation.

"What's happening? Sashun held a press conference saying there would be a rebound—are they lying to us?" a middle‑aged woman demanded angrily.

"Run! If you don't run now you'll lose everything! I don't want to jump off a building!" a young man shouted frantically.

The trading hall roared with voices—crying, swearing, desperate shouts—blending into a human hell. Investors who had been dreaming of riches that morning now wore faces of despair, some already sobbing uncontrollably.

TV reporters sprang into action, cameras trained on the desperate investors. The footage would soon spread across Hong Kong Island, becoming the most vivid portrait of this Financial War.

In the trading room of Xinghan Group, the atmosphere was completely different.

"Boss, Wilson has started a massive sell‑off!" Ye Ning pointed at the dense sea of sell orders on the screen, her voice trembling with excitement, "They're basically tying a rope around their own necks! It's practically making us money!"

Her eyes glittered with fanatical light, her excitement infecting the whole trading room. Everyone understood they were witnessing history, the first great victory of Chinese in Hong Kong Island's financial market.

Lu Qingshan stood before the massive electronic screen, watching the crimson numbers, a cold sneer curling his lips. Wilson's maneuver was entirely helping him profit. It felt as satisfying as an enemy voluntarily extending his neck for him to chop.

His eyes flashed with the light of wisdom, the strategic aura astonishing everyone present. This is the true bearing of a Financial Giant Shark—remaining calm at the crucial moment and judging the situation accurately.