Chapter 359: Little Fox Scared Off, Old Fox Appears!

Li Zexun's figure vanished at the doorway, and the heavy solid‑wood door he slammed produced a muffled thud, as if his last shred of pitiful dignity were wailing.

Brother! Awesome!

Lu Qingjun, after holding his emotions in for a long time, finally found an outlet. He excitedly punched his own palm, his face flushed red, "Did you see that kid's final expression? Like he ate a fly! All green and white! Fucking satisfying! Let his dad send him to play the big‑tailed wolf!"

Lu Qingshan didn't turn around; he simply walked back from the potted plant to the tea table, sat down again, and poured himself another cup of tea that was already slightly cool.

Lu Qingshan just stared at the potted green plant that had just been watered with tea, his gaze deep.

He wasn't sent back by my rebuke.

He was scared back.

A cold, sharp curve lifted at Lu Qingshan's mouth.

"Because he finally realized that the thing his father sent him to see wasn't a ship at all."

"But a … Invincible Fleet, ready to sink the entire old continent."

"A little fox got scared away," he blew the tea leaves at the rim of his cup, his tone as flat as if recounting a trivial matter, "That old fox should call me personally."

As soon as the words finished, the red, top‑level encrypted phone in the office emitted a rapid, sharp ring.

The ring wasn't loud, but it struck Lu Qingjun's heart like a heavy hammer.

The excitement on his face froze instantly, and he instinctively looked at his brother, his eyes filled with shock.

This… this is too amazing, right?

Ye Ning walked forward expressionlessly, glanced at the encrypted code displayed on the incoming call, then handed the phone to Lu Qingshan, reporting in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Boss, Li Jiasheng."

Lu Qingshan didn't even raise an eyelid; he simply signaled Ye Ning to switch to speakerphone.

He lifted the tea cup and took a gentle sip.

The moment the call connected, there was no static at all, a silence that was terrifying.

A moment later, a hoarse yet vigorous voice, bearing the authority of long‑standing dominance and a deliberately cultivated gentleness, came through the receiver.

"Is this Lu? This is Li Jiasheng."

Lu Qingjun held his breath; he could picture the other end of the line, the business tycoon who commands storms on Hong Kong Island, now perched atop his empire, trying to steer the conversation with an elder's tone.

"Mr. Li, something?" Lu Qingshan's reply was courteous yet as distant as if separated by a Pacific Ocean.

Li Jiasheng on the other end seemed to choke briefly, but quickly recovered, letting out a hearty laugh, "Haha, Qingshan really is quick‑talking. My son is young and immature, and his words just now were offensive to you. As his father, I apologize on his behalf."

He paused, then his tone shifted to a weighty, earnest one: "However, his purpose aligns with mine. Qingshan, your moves in London—we old‑timers on Hong Kong Island have been watching. The younger generation is fearsome, indeed! Yet, a tree that stands out in the forest is bound to be felled by the wind. The Shason Family has entrenched itself in Europe for centuries; it's not easy to handle. Take my advice—cash out while you can, transfer the contracts you hold, and keep them safe. My Li Family is willing to step in, mediate with all parties, and ensure you return with a full purse and a glorious reputation. We're all comrades of Hong Kong; I can't just watch you get bullied by those foreigners, right?"

His words were airtight, showcasing power, displaying compatriot camaraderie, and hinting at a subtle threat.

If it were anyone else, the face saved by Li Jiasheng calling personally would likely make them weep with gratitude and step down the ladder without hesitation.

Lu Qingjun's palms sweated with tension as he stared intently at his brother, eager to see how he would handle this old fox's sugar‑coated artillery.

However, Lu Qingshan simply set his tea cup down gently, producing a crisp, light clink.

"Mr. Li."

He spoke, his voice low yet clear through the line, reaching Hong Kong Island thousands of miles away.

"Your son has already made your intentions perfectly clear."

"You want to board my ship, take my seat, and claim a sizable share of the spoils."

"But you and your son are mistaken about one thing."

Lu Qingshan leaned back in his chair, stared at the ceiling, a cold curve lifting his mouth.

"This isn't a passenger ship anyone can board."

"This is a warship."

"And I am the sole captain of this warship."

On the other end, the line fell into a death‑like silence.

Lu Qingjun could even picture Li Jiasheng's gentle smile cracking inch by inch, then collapsing.

After more than a dozen seconds, Li Jiasheng's voice sounded again.

This time, all the gentleness and pretense were torn apart, leaving only a bone‑chilling, icy coldness.

"Lu Qingshan! Don't be ungrateful!"

"Do you even know what you're doing? Those contracts in your hands are scorching! Do you really think you alone can swallow them?"

"You're declaring war on the entire London Financial City! On all the British Capital Consortiums that set the rules! You're digging your own grave!"

The roar cracked like thunder, exploding in the quiet office, even making Ye Ning's eye twitch.

Lu Qingjun's heart rose to his throat; he felt he was facing not a phone but a fully enraged tiger ready to pick its prey.

Yet, faced with this thunderous threat, Lu Qingshan merely let out an extremely light, almost sigh‑like… chuckle.

That laugh carried a hint of amusement, a hint of contempt, and a hint… of pity.

He picked up the phone, and to the handset, in a matter‑of‑fact, flat tone, he said slowly:

"Declare war?"

"That's fine."

"Doo—"

After speaking, Lu Qingshan didn't even wait for a reply; he hung up directly.

The whole world seemed to have its mute button pressed at that moment.

Lu Qingjun opened his mouth, staring blankly at his brother, his mind a void.

"That… that's fine?"

"Just those three words?"

To push back Li Chaoren's thunderous fury—who makes the whole stock market quake with a stomp on Hong Kong Island—so casually… and press it back?

"This isn't just bold, it's downright ignoring the opponent!"

"Brother... you... you..." Lu Qingjun's lips trembled, unable to utter a single word; he felt his worldview, in just a few minutes, repeatedly crushed by his brother, reshaped, and crushed again.

Ye Ning stood beside him, her ice‑mountain face flushed with two sickly pink hues on the cheeks; her breathing was rapid, her chest heaving violently, and the fire burning in her eyes was a fanatical blaze capable of incinerating the entire world!

Yet amid everyone's shock, Lu Qingshan acted as if it were the most ordinary thing.

He rose, walked to the massive World Map, and his gaze settled on the tiny red dot marking London.

"Since everyone thinks we're declaring war,"

He spoke slowly, his voice low, yet the air in the entire office solidified.

"Then it has to look like a declaration of war,"

He turned, his eyes landing on Ye Ning, already in combat mode, and issued an order that nearly made Lu Qingjun faint on the spot.

"Ye Ning."

"Send our 'Hunger List' together with our Quotation Sheet to Downing Street, Prime Minister's Office."

Lu Qingjun's eyes bulged as if they would pop out.

Downing Street? Prime Minister's Office?! Brother, are you trying to reach the heavens!

Lu Qingshan completely ignored his brother's ghost‑pale expression, a sly grin curling at the corner of his mouth, added the final sentence, and ignited the most reckless blaze for the impending storm.

"Tell them the price is just the Market Price with an extra zero added."

"Besides, we only accept... gold."