Chapter 289: Mansions? Nonsense! I

After dealing with the staff dormitory, the two brothers drove again to the hillside mansion in Shek O that truly belonged to them.

The top‑tier property firm recommended by Li Fuying proved truly professional; the vast courtyard was immaculate, every inch of lawn trimmed like an expensive green‑velvet carpet, the infinite pool's water filtered crystal‑clear, sparkling under the afternoon sun with a diamond‑bright shimmer. The air was filled with a cool scent of premium care agents mixed with unknown Handcrafted Flower.

Lu Qingjun stood alone in the open garden, watching a few horticulturists carefully tending a Bodhi pine that had been air‑shipped from Japan, said to be worth a whole house, yet he could not summon any joy or sense of belonging.

He walked to his older brother's side; from here the view overlooks most of Hong Kong Island, yet all he sees is a cold steel forest. He whispered, "Brother, this garden is more imposing than the Defense Science and Industry Commission's compound. But standing here I feel my feet light as if on cotton, not solid at all."

He stared at the meticulously trimmed, oddly shaped Bodhi pine, exhaled at length, his tone tinged with an overwhelming homesickness: "To be honest, brother, I'm starting to miss home. No matter how precious this pine is, it doesn't look as pleasing as the old elm in our yard. In summer we could set a small table beneath it to eat and cool off; in autumn we'd see mother bent under the tree, chatting with neighbors while drying golden beans. I even miss the salty sea breeze of Tianjin's salt fields and the goose‑feather snow that could bury a person's half‑leg."

Lu Qingshan said nothing; he merely patted his brother's shoulder, his gaze passing over the lavish garden and bustling Hong Kong Island, turning toward the distant north.

Roots aren't in this pricey ground beneath our feet, but in the barren yet warm hometown within our hearts.

Everything is arranged.

The two brothers traveled light, bringing only Aqiang, Ahu and three other elite bodyguards.

Under the night sky, Kai Tak Airport's private tarmac.

A brand‑new Baystream II business Aircraft, newly purchased by Lu Qingshan from Grumman Aircraft Company, waited quietly for its master in the night. Its streamlined fuselage, illuminated by the tarmac lights, reflected a cold metallic sheen, like a raptor poised to strike.

Just as they were about to board, a car sped up; Liang Zhiwei practically tumbled out of it, clutching a document, his face flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation, rushing over.

"Mr. Lu!" he ran up to Lu Qingshan, his breath uneven, his voice trembling with excitement, "The documents you needed are all signed! And… over at HSBC, the risk‑control supervisor Smith showed up at my office this afternoon!"

Lu Qingshan took the documents, didn't even glance at them, signed his flamboyant name on the last page, and handed them back. He looked at Liang Zhiwei's reddened eyes and asked calmly, "What did he say?"

"He…" Liang Zhiwei gritted his teeth, mimicking the arrogant British tone, and said word for word: "'Liang, I heard your Xinghan Bank's counters are being made of wood instead of bullet‑proof glass? Are you trying to turn the bank into an Eastern tea house?' He said… he said our actions are barbaric and backward, that we're destroying the century‑old financial order and dignity of Hong Kong Island! He also said that if Chinese want to play finance, they should honestly follow the British, not indulge in these attention‑seeking tricks! Otherwise, HSBC has plenty of ways to shut a 'wooden bank' down on its opening day."

"Zhiwei, don't pay them any mind." Lu Qingshan looked at the would‑be Bank President, his eyes already bloodshot from Xinghan Bank, his gaze unruffled, a cold sneer appearing, "Rules are set by the strong, and naturally meant to be broken by stronger ones. They shield customers with cold bullet‑proof glass like thieves; we welcome them with a cup of hot tea as if they were family. This is only the first step."

He paused, lowering his voice a notch, yet each word hammered Liang Zhiwei's heart like a heavy mallet, carrying a staggering vision: "In the future, while they are still fighting tooth‑and‑nail over loans to a few big corporations, you must employ the most advanced, humane credit‑assessment system to locate those who truly have money and those who truly need it! Lend to street vendors denied credit for a small stall, lend to young people wanting to start a workshop but lacking seed capital! What we do is not add flowers to a brocade, but provide firewood in a snowstorm. We will become the capillaries of Hong Kong Island's finance, channeling capital's blood into every tiniest, unnoticed corner! We will be the solid backing behind every ordinary person unwilling to settle for mediocrity!"

"Let the white men teach; they'll never learn. Because in their very bones runs the colonizer's arrogance, and from the root they despise these 'small monies', they despise ordinary people struggling for a living!"

Liang Zhiwei trembled violently, as if a thunderclap had struck his crown! All his previous doubts, anxieties, and peer pressure vanished in an instant, replaced by volcanic excitement and fervor!

He nodded heavily, his voice hoarse with excitement: "Mr. Lu, I understand! Rest assured! I've got Xinghan Bank covered! I'll stake my very life to make the future you described a reality! Let those British see who the real barbarians are!"

Lu Qingshan nodded appreciatively, said no more, and turned toward the gangway.

Lu Qingjun followed behind; he glanced back at the dazzling sea of lights below the mountain, toward Central, where their Xinghan Building stood among countless lamps like a silent, proud lighthouse heralding a new era.

He quickened a few steps, caught up with his brother, and before boarding the gangway finally lowered his voice, his tone tinged with nervous anticipation, and asked the question that had been circling his mind for days.

"Brother, Capital City… the house we bought there… I have no idea what it'll look like when we go back this time?"

Lu Qingshan had already stepped onto the gangway, his stride unbroken; the night wind fluttered his coat, rustling like a battle flag about to unfurl.

He didn't look back, leaving his brother only a towering, pine‑like silhouette stretched in the light and a sentence so calm it betrayed no ripple, yet brimming with endless mystery.

"I'm curious too."