Chapter 360: Ten‑Times the Price, Gold Only!

That line "We only accept… gold", like a silent heavy hammer, slammed down on the top of everyone's heads in the office.

Lu Qingjun's eyes bulged as if they were about to jump out of their sockets; he opened his mouth, a "hoho" sound like a throat being strangled came from his throat, and the color in his face faded at a visibly rapid pace, turning as pallid as the wall.

Crazy.

His brother is completely insane!

Ten times the price—this is no longer a business negotiation; this is turning the Financial War into an outright humiliation and extreme extortion of a sovereign nation!

You still want gold, damn it?!

It's like pointing at the Bank of England's nose before the whole world and loudly declaring: the pounds you print are, in my eyes, just a pile of paper that can become worthless at any moment!

This is a challenge to the entire Western monetary system built after World II, dominated by the US Dollar and the pound! It's like digging up the final ancestral tomb of the empire that never sets and urinating on it!

"Brother! You… you…" Lu Qingjun trembled all over; he felt as if he weren't standing in the office on William King Street but inside a submarine about to trigger the world's nuclear arsenal, and his brother had just smiled and pressed that red launch button.

He tried to rush forward to snatch the impending "judgment" document, to shout for Ye Ning to stop, but his legs felt as if filled with lead—so heavy he couldn't move. He could only watch helplessly as Ye Ning, the woman whose face was flushed with fervent crimson, showed no hesitation, not even a flicker of an eyebrow, merely leaning slightly forward and, in a tone as devout as one about to embark on a Holy War, confirmed, "Boss, are we settling according to the London Bullion Market Association (LBMA) official closing price today?"

Lu Qingshan nodded, as if he were merely deciding whether to have his steak medium‑rare or medium‑well for dinner.

"No! No way!" Lu Qingjun finally reclaimed his voice from the extreme terror, leapt forward in a single stride to stand before Lu Qingshan, his hands gripping the brother's arm tightly, his voice sharp and twisted by fear, "Brother! We can't do this! People will die! They really will die! What is Downing Street? It's the power heart of the British Empire! You mailed the extortion letter to the Prime Minister's desk—are you trying to get Military Intelligence Section 6 to invite us for afternoon tea at the bottom of the Thames River? They'll deploy troops!"

Facing his brother's near‑collapse roar, Lu Qingshan simply looked at him calmly, then extended a hand and, with an unquestionable force, gently lifted the hand that clutched his arm away.

"Qingjun, do you think a person on the brink of dying of thirst in a desert would care about the price of a bottle of water?"

Lu Qingjun was stunned.

"He wouldn't," Lu Qingshan answered for him, his voice carrying a cold, all‑seeing logic, "He only cares whether the seller of water is willing to sell it to him. Right now, the entire European industrial giants and military logistics are that person on the verge of dying of thirst. And I am the only water source in the desert."

"As for gold…" Lu Qingshan walked to the window, gazing at the distant spire silhouette of Westminster Palace, a thoroughly mocking smile curling his lips, "What is the pound? It's paper they can print endlessly with a printing press. Today, for war, they can issue a hundred billion; tomorrow they can print a trillion. I want gold to make it crystal clear to them that, from now on, the rules of this game have changed. If you want to sit at my gambling table, you may, but you must use real gold and silver hard currency—no more using your own printed counterfeit chips."

Lu Qingjun listened dumbfounded, his mind a blank.

He felt that the business logic he had built over the past twenty‑plus years, the rules of the world as he understood them, were crushed to dust before his brother's words, leaving no residue.

This isn't doing business.

This is setting the rules! Using the most barbaric, direct, unreasonable method, forcibly establishing a rule that belongs to Lu Qingshan, one that towers above the Empire!

The office door was gently pushed open, and David Cohen and the newcomer Li Junjie peeked in. They had been drawn by Lu Qingjun's earlier harrowing scream, their faces marked with curiosity and unease.

When they saw the solidified, almost tangible atmosphere in the office and Lu Qingjun's despondent look, they immediately realized that some earth‑shattering event must have just occurred.

Li Junjie, after all, was young and on his first day, and the oppressive atmosphere scared him into silence; he just stared nervously.

David Cohen adjusted his glasses; he had developed a certain immunity to the boss's madness, yet he couldn't help whispering to Ye Ning standing nearby, "Miss Ye Ning, what's happening? Did the Shason Family send assassins?"

Ye Ning didn't look at him; she was hunched over a tablet, typing rapidly. Upon hearing him, she squeezed out a few words between her teeth, her voice trembling with barely contained excitement, making David shiver.

"Boss, we've declared war on Downing Street."

"Thump."

Li Junjie's legs gave way, and he plopped onto the floor; the well‑tailored Janey suit he wore collected carpet dust without his noticing, his mouth agape as he stared dumbfounded at Lu Qingshan's not‑particularly tall silhouette, his eyes filled with subversive shock and fear. The elite education he had received since childhood taught him that power has limits and business has rules, yet the man before him demonstrated through action that when your strength is sufficient, you become the limits and the rules themselves!

David Cohen also froze in place, feeling as if his heart had been squeezed hard and then tossed into ice water.

Declare war?

He thought he had misheard. He had believed he came here to take part in an unprecedented financial high‑stakes gamble, the bet being tens of billions of US Dollars. Now he realized he was wrong—spectacularly wrong.

What they were betting wasn't money at all.

It was a nation's destiny! The twilight of an old empire and the dawn of a new capitalistic hegemony!

"Kid, welcome to the real battlefield," David inhaled deeply, bent down and pulled the terrified Li Junjie up from the floor, patted his shoulder, and said in a dream‑like tone mingled with fear and frenzy, "I used to think we were playing Texas Hold'em. Now I realize the boss flipped the table, pointed at everyone's nose, and declared that this casino now belongs to him."

At that moment, Ye Ning lifted her head, and on her iceberg‑like face blossomed a breathtaking, destructively beautiful smile.

"Boss," she turned the tablet toward Lu Qingshan, the screen showing green "Send Successful" text, "The Quotation Sheet has been sent through the Triple Encrypted Channel to the Prime Minister's Office Chief Secretary's designated mailbox. The message has been confirmed received."

The entire office was dead silent.

Everyone held their breath, as if they could hear that email turning into an invisible wave, crossing London's blocks, bearing ancient Eastern dominance and the wildness of newborn capital, slamming hard into the century‑old mansion that symbolized the British Empire's supreme power.

Lu Qingshan didn't look back; he simply stared at the increasingly gloomy sky outside the window and softly uttered three words.

"Wait for the wind."

The wind came quickly.

And it arrived in a thunderously overwhelming way beyond anyone's imagination.

In less than ten minutes.

The red encrypted phone in the office rang again with a sharp, grating tone! The ring, as if metallic, struck each person's heart repeatedly.

This time, the caller ID displayed neither a business code nor a string of numbers.

But a badge.

A gold‑embossed badge slowly rotating on the screen, composed of a Crown, a Majestic Lion, and the letter "C". It represents the empire that never sets' most mysterious, most powerful engine of violence, embodying Her Majesty the Queen's will—Military Intelligence Section 6 (MI6).