Chapter 380: The Vice Prime Minister

Twelve hours later, at William King Street 81, it resembled a fortress that had just endured a fierce siege, suffused with the deathly silence of post‑disaster survival.

In the Trading Hall, people were sprawled in every direction. Some were wrapped in marching blankets, sleeping beneath desks; others collapsed onto chairs, emitting heavy snores. The burnt‑off aroma of coffee, nicotine and adrenaline still lingered in the air.

David Cohen was found curled beneath the main command platform, clutching an empty whiskey bottle, sleeping like a baby with a satisfied grin at the corner of his mouth. Lu Qingjun and Li Junjie were no better; the two leaned against each other on the sofa in Lu Qingshan's office, heads touching, fast asleep.

The Financial Strangle War, which lasted seventy‑two hours and cost £350 billion, drained the last ounce of energy from everyone.

In the top‑floor office, sandalwood was lit again, dispersing the smell of gunpowder.

Lu Qingshan changed into clean clothes and, standing before the tea station, methodically brewed a pot of Da Hong Pao. His movements were neither hurried nor slow, as if the three‑day, three‑night high‑stakes gamble were merely a light drizzle outside the window.

Ye Ning and Li Zhi'an sat opposite, their eye sockets sunken and faces pallid, yet their minds were unusually clear. They looked at the boss, their gazes now holding not just awe but something bordering on reverence.

At that moment, the office door was gently knocked.

Ye Ning rose to open the door, and standing outside was a person who surprised her—Wilson.

The hall's security recognized Wilson; he had been here many times recently, apparently without a report, so he was allowed upstairs directly.

Today's Wilson was a far cry from his former self. He wore a sharply tailored Savile Street suit, his hair impeccably groomed, his face bearing the composure and authority of someone long accustomed to power. He was no longer the idle, disgruntled man at home; the aura he exuded was that of a family patriarch wielding command.

"Mr. Lu," Wilson said as he entered, first glancing at the soundly sleeping Lu Qingjun and Li Junjie on the sofa, then turning his gaze toward Lu Qingshan, bowing slightly.

"Please sit," Lu Qingshan lifted his chin and pushed a freshly brewed cup of tea toward him.

"I'm here to thank you today," Wilson sat down, taking the cup with both hands but not drinking, "You not only saved me, but saved the entire Shason Family."

Lu Qingshan raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.

Wilson gave a wry smile: "Henry… he was too careless. He thought that with the family's reputation and the Bank of England's covert backing, he could crush a 'cross‑river dragon' like you in London. He didn't count on the fact that the cards you hold aren't even on the table." He paused, his tone tinged with lament, "If he had won this time, his arrogance would have dragged the whole family into the abyss. Mr. William saw that clearly, so he retired."

Ye Ning and Li Zhi'an exchanged a glance, understanding instantly. This Financial War had not only shattered market confidence but also completely reshaped the power structure of a century‑old magnate family.

"As for Henry," Wilson lifted his cup and gently blew the steam, "he's been sent to a plantation in Sumatra. The elder says he needs to learn there how to get along with the local orangutans; it will temper his temperament."

The words were spoken plainly, yet carried an undeniable coldness.

Lu Qingshan raised his cup, took a sip, and said, "Congratulations."

"I also must thank your generosity," Wilson set the cup down, his expression turning solemn, "If you hadn't, at the last moment, handed the order to me, the Shason Family's loss would have grown by at least another thirty percent. I've taken note of this favor."

In this war, Lu Qingshan short‑sold while the Bank of England and allied consortium defended the market. Yet once panic took root, the defenders began to waver. In the final stage, the Shason Family, seeking self‑preservation, were the first to offload non‑core assets to raise cash, and those assets were quietly acquired at a rock‑bottom price by a third‑party firm arranged by Lu Qingshan.

Each buy and sell both intensified market panic and conveniently completed a bottom‑buy.

At the decisive moment, Lu Qingshan routed all orders for steel, cotton, sugar and other war‑material supplies through Wilson for settlement, trading them with the Ministry of Defense, thereby salvaging the Shason Family's reputation and assets.

"I'm merely a businessman," Lu Qingshan said lightly.

"You are certainly a businessman," Wilson's expression turned slightly nuanced, "but some people don't see it that way."

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice: "Before I came, I stopped by Downing Street to gauge the mood. Vice Prime Minister James Reed asked me to give you a message."

The atmosphere in the office froze instantly.

"He said London has its own rules; this isn't a Far‑East adventurer's playground. Your recent trades have been too big, you've crossed the line," Wilson recited verbatim, "He wants to know whether you're ready to pay the price."

A naked threat. A threat from the very core of the empire that never sets sun.

Ye Ning and Li Zhi'an felt their hearts rise to their throats. They had won the market, but could they beat a national machine?

Lu Qingshan seemed not to hear; he lifted the Yixing teapot, refilled Wilson's cup, the scalding tea pouring in with a light "sizzle."

"The price?" he raised his eyes, looking at Wilson, "Tell Mr. Reed the bill is already prepared for them. It's just a matter of when they have the nerve to collect."

Wilson's pupils contracted sharply. Staring at the calm, unruffled face of the Eastern man before him, a chill rose up his spine.

He suddenly realized that Vice Prime Minister Li De and Henry had made the same mistake.

They thought Lu Qingshan was challenging the rules, but in fact he was setting them.

At that moment, the office door was knocked again, and a nervous analyst entered, handing a document to Li Zhi'an.

Li Zhi'an scanned it quickly; his eyes, previously dulled by fatigue, instantly flashed with a startling light.

He hurried to Lu Qingshan's side, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.

"Boss! Argentina… Argentina has just, through all international media, issued an ultimatum to the United Kingdom!"

He turned to the second page, his voice rose a few more notes: "At the same time, the Argentine military announced that one of its Special Forces had successfully landed on South Georgia Island and raised the Argentine flag there!"

Li Zhi'an swallowed, then continued: "The ultimatum demands that all United Kingdom warships withdraw immediately from a 200‑nautical‑mile zone around Ma Island, or Argentina will not rule out using any force to expel them!"

He flipped to the second page, his voice rising a notch: "Meanwhile, the Argentine military announced that one of its Special Forces units has successfully landed on South Georgia Island and raised the Argentine flag there."

"What about the United Kingdom?" Lu Qingshan asked.

"The Royal Navy spokesperson just responded, calling it 'unacceptable provocation,' saying the task force will 'ignore the threat' and continue its planned navigation to the core area, 'upholding Her Majesty the Queen's territorial sovereignty.'"

Wilson's hand and heart trembled at the same time. He stared dumbfounded at Lu Qingshan, the color draining completely from his face.

All the information converged like a bomb, exploding in everyone's mind.

Wilson's hand and heart trembled simultaneously. He stared dumbfounded at Lu Qingshan, the color draining from his face.

Lu Qingshan, three days early, spent over a hundred billion pounds to tag a precise price on every word of today's news!

Those fourteen Flying Fish missiles hadn't even been launched; a single Argentine landing, a single ultimatum, were enough to make the market, just pulled up by force, collapse instantly! By tomorrow's opening, it's unimaginable how low the pound and defense stocks will fall.

Lu Qingshan, three days ahead, spent over £100 billion to price every word of today's news with pinpoint accuracy!

Those fourteen "Flying Fish" missiles hadn't even been launched; a single Argentine landing and an ultimatum were enough to make the violently jolted market collapse instantly! By tomorrow's opening, the pound and defense stocks could plunge beyond imagination.

And they, Xinghan Group, hold a short position worth £350 billion.

That isn't money; it's a razor‑sharp scythe harvesting the empire's wealth.

Lu Qingshan ignored the crowd's shock. He rose slowly, walked to the massive World Map, and glanced at the calendar on the wall.

He remembered clearly that in his previous life, the true outbreak of this war occurred in early May.

It was his Logistics Contract worth 950 billion that gave Iron Lady decisive courage and efficiency far beyond history, moving the fleet's preparation and departure forward by more than a month.

He remembered clearly that in his previous life, the war's true outbreak had been in early May.

It was his Logistics Contract worth £950 billion that gave Iron Lady the decisive courage and historically unprecedented efficiency to advance the fleet's preparation and departure by over a month.

He, this butterfly from the future, gave a gentle wing‑beat, letting the historic storm arrive early over the South Atlantic.

【61】 He stared at the fleet racing south on the map, and the island already bearing a foreign flag, a subtle smile curling his lips.

【62】 The war has definitively started early.

This game of chess is somewhat more interesting than they expected.