Chapter 387: Either Kneel or Sink Completely!

Ten minutes later, Allen Green, led by Ye Ning, walked into the office.

He appeared to be about fifty years old, his physique well maintained, his face bearing a professional, seemingly measured, flawless smile that felt like a spring breeze. Yet those seemingly gentle blue eyes, as they swept the office, inadvertently revealed a bone‑deep scrutiny and arrogance.

When his gaze briefly lingered on Wilson, a flash of contempt so swift it was almost imperceptible flickered deep in his eyes, as if looking at a filthy piece of furniture that shouldn't be here, before finally settling solemnly on the principal seat, Lu Qingshan.

"Mr. Lu, good evening. Please excuse my unannounced visit," Allen inclined slightly, his posture elegant and proper, as if he were not here for an urgent negotiation over the empire's fate but to attend a high‑society dinner.

"Mr. Green, please sit," Lu Qingshan gestured toward the opposite sofa, his voice flat and unruffled.

Allen sat down, his back straight, glanced at the rustic Zisha Tea Set on the coffee table, and, smiling, began, "I have long heard that you, Mr. Lu, are a connoisseur of Eastern tea ceremony; seeing this set today confirms the reputation is well deserved."

From the moment he spoke, he tried to steer the atmosphere toward a relaxed private chat, using the customary manner of English aristocracy to subtly seize control of the conversation.

Lu Qingshan did not respond. He lifted the warm Zisha Teapot and poured steaming golden tea into the empty cup before Allen. The hot tea rose in a wisp of white vapor, blurring both expressions and choking the polite remark Allen had prepared.

"Mr. Green, I suppose your late‑night visit isn't to discuss tea ceremony," Lu Qingshan gently set the teapot down, the cup bottom striking the tea tray with a crisp, light chime. The sound was small yet struck like a drumbeat, precisely cutting through Allen's contrived atmosphere. "We are both merchants; time is precious, and we prefer to get straight to the point. Tell me, what price are you prepared to pay, having been sent by Prime Minister (female)?"

Allen's professional smile showed, for the first time, a barely perceptible stiffness, as if a delicate mask had cracked with a fine fissure.

He inhaled deeply, forcing his composure, adjusted his posture, and his tone grew serious: "Mr. Lu, your transactions today have severely disrupted London's financial order, inflicting incalculable damage on the empire's economy. The Prime Minister's Office hopes you will, in the interest of market stability, resell all the shares purchased today to a stabilization fund led by the Bank of England. Of course," he paused, his voice bearing a patronizing generosity, "as for price, we are willing to add five percent to today's closing price as compensation for you."

The words sounded grandiose, both a request and a condescending, unquestionable command.

"Cough… cough cough!"

Before Lu Qingshan could speak, Lu Qingjun could no longer hold back; the scalding tea he had just swallowed went straight down his windpipe, making him spring up, clutch his mouth and cough violently, his face flushed bright red, his shoulders jerking wildly—whether from coughing or from stifling a laugh, he could not tell.

Li Junjie hurried over to pat his back, lowering his voice and, in a dream‑like tone, whispered rapidly into his ear, "The ultimate form of arrogance… even when kneeling in supplication, you still pretend to stand… it's a disease etched into the bone, incurable…"

Wilson kept his head down, his expression unreadable, but the slight tremor in his shoulders betrayed his mood. He knew Allen Green had made the same fatal mistake as Li De and Henry. They would never understand that the Eastern man before them was not there to reason with them.

Lu Qingshan smiled.

The laugh was light, yet devoid of any warmth, like a winter wind over ice. He lifted his own teacup, took a gentle sip, then raised his gaze to the now pallid‑to‑bluish Allen, his eyes calm but as if looking at a child making a childish, immature request.

"Mr. Green, you seem not to understand. First, what I purchased today is not stock; the equity it represents is loot," his voice was light, yet made Allen's pupils contract sharply. "Have you ever seen a general place a blade on an enemy's throat, fight hard for the spoils, then sell those spoils at a discount back to a defeated subordinate?"

"You!" Allen's smile vanished completely, replaced by a steely blue pallor, his gentlemanly demeanor utterly gone.

"Second," Lu Qingshan set down his teacup, his voice suddenly turning icy, like the deep waters of the South Atlantic, "five percent? Are you shooing away a beggar? Or do you think the economic lifeblood of the British Empire is worth only that premium in your eyes?"

He rose slowly, walked deliberately toward Allen, his towering silhouette casting a shadow that enveloped Allen entirely. The intangible, mountain‑like pressure made the Prime Minister's secretary, who commands the winds of Downing Street, instinctively shrink deeper into the sofa.

"My bill is simple."

"First, I will not sell a single share I hold. What the United Kingdom Government must do is, at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, have Prime Minister (female) personally convene a press conference, publicly announce to the world that Xinghan Group is welcomed as a strategic investor in these enterprises, and, in the name of Her Majesty the Queen, pledge that no future intervention will be made on any ridiculous 'national security' pretext."

Allen's breath halted abruptly; he could not believe his ears, his pupils dilated from sheer shock. This is not investment, it is colonization! It is blatant economic colonization! Having the Prime Minister and the Queen endorse a foreign corporation tramples the dignity of the empire on the ground!

"Second," Lu Qingshan's voice continued, devoid of any feeling, like a sharp ice spear, each word piercing Allen's eardrum, "Effective today, all of Xinghan Group's investments in the United Kingdom enjoy permanent top‑tier tax exemption. All commercial investigations targeting Xinghan Group must cease immediately and all data be destroyed."

Having finished, Lu Qingshan turned, his resolute back facing the now paper‑white Allen, and paced back to the massive World Map.

"My terms are finished. You may now report to Prime Minister (female)." His voice rose calmly, as if stating a trivial matter, "Either accept my terms and watch the British Empire's economic lifeline forever fly an Eastern banner; or refuse, and tomorrow morning watch the FTSE tumble by half, watch the entire London Financial City, in your hesitation, become a ruin of history."

"You… you're extorting! This is robbery!" Allen finally lost all composure, leapt up from the sofa, his face flushed from agitation, pointing at Lu Qingshan's broad back, his voice trembling violently with anger and fear, even his normally perfect London accent faltering.

Lu Qingshan did not look back; he simply picked up the red marker that bore a five‑pointed star, twirling it lightly on his fingertip as if toying with an amusing gadget.

"Mr. Green, please watch your language."

He turned slowly, his gaze icy as it fell on Allen, "I am merely a merchant, using the rules you yourselves drafted to reclaim what is rightfully mine."

He took a step forward, his voice pressed low yet clearly reaching every ear in the room: "The consequences of defaulting, I think Vice Prime Minister Li De has already made you experience, and I do not wish Prime Minister (female) to experience it as well."

Allen's body jolted violently, as if struck by lightning.

Lu Qingshan watched his despondent state, a cold curve lifting his mouth, and finally uttered two faint words.

"See you out."