Chapter 279: Victoria Far‑East Opportunity Fund!

Lu Qingshan's voice wasn't loud, but like an invisible needle, it precisely pierced the huge balloon in the conference room that had been inflated by fear and doubt.

Puff—

The balloon deflated, and the room fell into dead silence.

Everyone's expression froze; the previously agitated, pallid‑faced Character opened his mouth, forgetting what he was going to say. Guo Dongying's eyes, wide as copper bells, were filled with bewilderment, as if his mind had been turned into a mush by that sentence.

No… not using our own money?

Then whose money? Should we go pick it up in London Financial City?

"Qing Shan, you… what do you mean by that?" Li Fuying's voice was hoarse; he felt his heart like a roller coaster that had just plunged from a ten‑thousand‑foot cliff, now being yanked hard by those words, hanging in mid‑air, neither up nor down, unbearably uncomfortable.

Lu Qingshan smiled, walked to the long table, and gently placed the red marker on the surface.

"Uncle and elder gentlemen, what do you think Europeans, especially the British, fear most now?" He didn't answer directly; instead he tossed out a question.

The crowd looked at each other, utterly baffled.

"Afraid… afraid the Labour Party will take power and raise taxes?" a wealthy man ventured.

"Afraid of the Soviet people?" another guessed.

Lu Qingshan shook his head, walked to the window, and gazed at the bustling traffic on Hong Kong Island below, his eyes distant. "What they fear is decline. Watching the fading glow of the empire that never sets disappear bit by bit, watching the pound in their hands lose value, watching former colonies turn one by one into someone else's gold mines."

He turned, his gaze sharp with insight into human nature. "Therefore, they crave more than anyone a new, safe, high‑return investment channel. They're like a group of wealthy men dying of thirst in a desert; as long as you have a bottle of water, they'll scramble to buy it at any price you set."

"And we have just won a world‑shocking great victory on Hong Kong Island. In their eyes, what is Hong Kong Island now? It's the hottest financial hub in Place! What is Xinghan Capital? It's an Eastern legend that turns stone to gold! What am I, Lu Qingshan?"

A playful curl formed at the corner of his mouth, "I am the wealth god who can lead them to profit."

Guo Dongying listened in a haze, frantic enough to scratch his head: "Ah, Qing Shan, just tell us straight, what exactly should we do? My brain is about to burn!"

"Very simple." Lu Qingshan walked to the map and lightly tapped the blood‑red circle with his finger.

"We will go to London and set up a fund."

"Fund?" The term was still unfamiliar to many present.

"Yes, a private fund dedicated to investing in Place's emerging markets." Lu Qingshan's voice carried a beguiling charm, "I've already thought of the fund's name: 'Victoria Far‑East Opportunity Fund.' Just hearing it sounds like it's made for them."

"Then, we will leverage Xinghan Capital's brilliant record on Hong Kong Island, and the strong backing of the Chinese Chamber of Commerce's uncles, to raise capital from those London aristocrats, bankers, and pension funds who are terrified of their money going stale. We'll tell them we will bring their money to Place, to Hong Kong Island, this familiar hot land, and make huge profits."

"Will they invest?" Character still couldn't fully believe it.

"They will," Lu Qingshan said confidently, "because we take no management fee from a single cent of theirs, and can even promise fixed returns far above market level. We only need one thing—"

He paused, a fox‑like cunning flashing in his eyes.

"We only need absolute control of this fund."

When the words fell, the conference room fell silent as a tomb.

A few seconds later, Li Fuying slammed his thigh, leapt up from his chair in excitement, pointed at Lu Qingshan, his lips trembling, and a pair of aged eyes erupted with an unprecedented brilliance!

"I get it! I fucking totally get it!"

His shout was like lighting a fuse; in everyone's mind there was a Boom, and that layer of window film was completely pierced!

Empty‑handed white wolf!

No, this is a hundred times smarter than empty‑handed white‑wolf!

This is taking the British's own money, registering a British company on their own turf, and using that company to attack another British company!

From start to finish, the fifteen‑billion‑yuan principal of our own people never left Hong Kong Island; it could even sit safely in an account at Xinghan Bank earning interest! That money is merely a bait, a proof to make those London wolves believe in our strength!

And Lu Qingshan is the hunter wielding the British's own hunting rifle, accompanied by their hunting dogs, to hunt down the pork the British have fattened themselves!

If we win, the profit is ours.

If we lose… the loss is also the British's own money!

"What kind of celestial scheme is this?! This fucking is a devil's script!"

"Damn!" Guo Dongying strained for a moment, finally squeezing out that word. The gaze he gave Lu Qingshan was no longer that of a young man, but of a demon, a monster cloaked in human skin!

He plopped back into his chair, lifted his teacup and gulped it down with a "glug glug" until empty, then wiped his mouth and sincerely exclaimed: "Damn, I finally understand how that Wilson kid died. Fighting a guy like him, anyone would die! Is that brain even human‑grown?"

The oppressive atmosphere in the conference room vanished, replaced by an extreme, almost manic worship and excitement.

…

Meanwhile, in the top office of the Faction.

The massive floor‑to‑ceiling windows shut out all external clamor, and the air held only the faint after‑taste of a premium cigar.

Li Jiasheng sat expressionless on his throne, his fingers rhythmically tapping the smooth rosewood desk. In front of him stood a nervous aide, whispering a report of everything that had happened last night and this morning.

From the auctioneer's "not selling" remark, to this morning's closed‑door Chinese Chamber of Commerce meeting, the world map that was brought in, and the glaring red circle on London on the map that was taken out.

With each sentence the aide uttered, Li Jiasheng's smile seemed to soften a touch, yet the temperature in the office dropped accordingly.

When the aide finished his report and bowed out, Li Jiasheng's smile finally vanished, replaced by a bottomless calm, as still as ten‑thousand‑year ice.

Go to London?

Attack the Sashun Family?

This young man is more arrogant than he imagined, and even… reckless beyond belief.

What does he think the financial world is? His own backyard? The Sashun Family has stood for centuries in Europe not merely because of money. It's a tangled web of relationships, deep‑seated political influence, and forces beyond the rules that can be mobilized at any time.

Lu Qingshan is like a bull that bursts into a porcelain shop—seeming immensely powerful but actually reckless and foolish.

He slowly rose, walked to the floor‑to‑ceiling window, and looked down over the city beneath.

He admitted he had underestimated the young man. In the small pond of Hong Kong Island, the opponent was indeed a Crossing River Fierce Dragon. But now, this dragon dares to challenge the real sea.

Fine then.

Li Jiasheng's mouth curled a cold…

Let that old Lion of Sashun teach this clueless little dragon what the true world rules are.

He returned to his desk, picked up the black, angular, cold‑hard phone, and dialed an encrypted international long‑distance number.

The call connected, and a voice with a heavy Oxford accent, lazy yet haughty, came through.

"Li, my friend, calling so early—do you have another interesting Eastern story to share with me?"

"Sir Smith, good morning." Li Jiasheng's voice returned to its usual gentle tone, as if catching up with an old friend, "I indeed have a very interesting story here. A story about... an Eastern calf that knows not its own death, daring to challenge a sleeping Lion."

Sir Smith on the other end chuckled lightly, "Oh? That doesn't sound very interesting. The Lion would bite its neck off in one gulp, and the story would end."

"No," Li Jiasheng said, a hint of meaning in his smile, "what if someone told the Lion's mortal foe the calf's attack route in advance, and even offered sharper horns for the calf?"

The line fell silent.

After more than a dozen seconds, Sir Smith's voice sounded again; the lazy tone had vanished, replaced by a barely perceptible excitement and greed.

"Li, you've successfully piqued my interest. Speak—what do you want from me?"

Li Jiasheng looked out the window, his gaze drifting toward the distant west, and said slowly, "I want nothing. I simply dislike that calf. Of course, if the matter succeeds, and you, Sir, are willing to transfer the Shason Family's shares in Pan‑European Shipping to me at a "friend price," I think I would be very happy to provide you with more detailed "story details"."