Chapter 282: The Thirty‑Billion Dagger, Returns After Drinking Blood!

Li Fuying immediately understood Lu Qingshan's meaning; this is both a token of allegiance to London and an internal selection and mobilization! Moreover it is a test of loyalty! He took a deep breath, looked at the terrifyingly calm young man before him, feeling as if he were facing a primeval beast about to break all shackles and pounce on the world. He asked in a low voice, "Qing Shan, what do you want to do? Say it straight. We'll all follow you; this old bone will go crazy with you once!"

"Very simple." Lu Qingshan looked at the crowd, his gaze calm yet exuding an irresistible authority, "Personally, I'll take ten billion Hong Kong dollars from my account and inject them into this 'Pioneer Fund'."

"As for all of you uncles, it's entirely voluntary, contribute as you can. I have only one promise—"

He surveyed the room, each word deliberate, his voice not loud yet resonant, like war drums beating, striking each person's heart.

"Half a year. Target return, over thirty percent."

Half a year, thirty percent!

If anyone else said that, the veteran big shots here would just deem him a madman and sneer.

But these words came from Lu Qingshan's mouth.

From the mouth of the young man who, within two months, leveraged a few hundred thousand to move nearly ten billion net profit!

The solemn atmosphere that had just gathered in the conference room was instantly shattered by that sentence. No exclamations, no discussion, only a strange silence as if one could hear blood rushing through the veins.

Everyone's breath halted; they felt their hearts seized by an invisible giant hand, pumping blood wildly, sending scalding blood surging to every limb, cheeks reddening visibly! It wasn't shock—it was the utmost, supressed greed and frenzy!

"Bang—"

A deafening crash, Guo Dongying sprang up violently, overexerting himself, the heavy mahogany chair beneath him slid back half a meter, scraping the polished floor and emitting a shrill screech!

His eyes blood‑red, like a bull utterly enraged, veins on his neck bulging from excitement, he pointed at Lu Qingshan, spitting furiously, "Damn it! I, Guo Dongying, am fed up with bookkeeping this whole life! It's just a pile of meaningless numbers! Just tell me, how much do you need!"

Lu Qingshan smiled, "Uncle Guo, as I said, contribute as you can."

"I damn well can't!" Guo Dongying slapped his own chest hard, the "bang‑bang" echoing, shaking everyone's hearts, "I'll round up the liquid cash in my company's accounts to eight hundred million! All to you! Enough? If not, tomorrow I'll mortgage the few rundown buildings I just reclaimed!"

800 million!

Everyone was stunned by Guo Dongying's reckless bravado, their scalp tingling.

"Old Guo, you're insane!" Character, famed for meticulous accounting, shouted instinctively, their Parker gold pen "clacking" onto the table, the invisible abacus in their mind still ticking, eight hundred million—that's half of their company's liquid capital!

"I'm not crazy!" Guo Dongying glared, his eyes burning like a gambler's flame, "This damn thing is like sitting at the gambling table with the God of Wealth! Like marching onto the battlefield with a great general! To still count the household's petty jars now would be madness! I, Guo Dongying, am betting everything on this one! Win, I get a club's young model; lose, I'll go work the docks!"

His coarse shout, like a red‑hot branding iron, instantly melted the last shackles of reason in everyone's hearts, igniting the most primal flame of desire.

Character's face flushed red then white; they stared at the demon‑like Guo Dongying, then at the mountain‑steady Lu Qingshan, and the abacus they'd used half their life on shattered with a "crash". They clenched their teeth hard enough to feel them shatter, forcing a sound through their teeth, "Damn! I… I'll put in three hundred million! Qing Shan, count me, Character, in!"

"I, four hundred million." A usually taciturn, steadied shipping magnate slowly adjusted his gold‑rimmed glasses, closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and when he opened them again, his gaze held only resolve, as if not investing but swearing allegiance.

"I'll put in two hundred million! Qing Shan, don't say it's too little! This is all I can muster!"

"Count me in! Two point five hundred million! I've taken my wife's private savings, put it all on the line! Even if I have to kneel on a washboard back home, I'll still accept!"

"I'll also put in two hundred million!"

The scene instantly spiraled out of control!

Just moments ago, each stalwart, inscrutable business titan now resembled gamblers clawing at the last piece of fat meat in a market, scrambling forward, fearing to be too slow and miss the chance to ride on Lu Qingshan's dragon‑like back that can turn decay into wonder!

Li Fuying watched the madness, a flash of horror crossing his eyes before turning into a wry smile and resolve. He didn't scramble; he calmly extended a finger toward his secretary.

"One billion."

Ye Ning immediately understood, and on a pre‑prepared list, wrote Li Fuying's name and the amount in the most solemn handwriting.

Lu Qingjun stood nearby, his hand trembling violently as he held pen and paper; he felt he wasn't bookkeeping but recording a legend that would soon enter Hong Kong Island's annals—a crazy, glorious saga! He watched the usually aloof, unsmiling uncles, whose faces now mixed frenzy, greed, and all‑or‑nothing resolve; then he looked at his brother, the man seated at the head, calmly observing everything as if watching a pre‑written drama, and thought of only one word: God! This is the true god!

The whole episode lasted no more than ten minutes.

As the clamor gradually subsided, Lu Qingjun, his voice slightly off‑key and even a bit hoarse from excitement, announced the final summed figure, his gaze fixed on his brother, filled with deity‑like reverence.

"Brother… uncles… adding my brother's one billion, the Pioneer Fund's intended capital, totals… forty billion Hong Kong dollars."

Excluding Lu Qingshan's own one billion, the core members of the thirteen Chinese Chamber of Commerce groups present, within ten minutes, pooled another thirty billion in cash!

Thirty billion!

The figure loomed like an invisible mountain, crashing into the center of the room, compressing the air into a solid hush.

This dagger poised to pierce London's heart has become sharp enough to make any titan shudder!

Lu Qingshan slowly rose, he looked at the group now twisted into a single rope, allies who had wagered their fortunes and lives on him, a genuine smile spreading across his face. His fingertips twitched lightly under the table, then clenched into a fist, feeling the weight of that trust.

"Alright."

He said only one word, yet it weighed as much as a thousand pounds.

He walked to the world map, picked up the red marker, and on the blood‑red circle, he drew, stroke by stroke, a sharp sword, its tip pointing straight at London Financial City!

"Money is the army, provisions are ample." He turned, his gaze knife‑sharp, sweeping the crowd, his voice cold and firm.

"Uncles, prepare yourselves. This knife returns only after drinking blood!"