Chapter 395: Minister Wang's Warning, Chen Lao's Entrustment!

Lu Qingshan took the phone, his expression calm, and simply waved at the still‑dazed Lu Qingjun, signaling him to be quiet. The entire top‑floor apartment, because of the figure "$120 billion," fell into a viscous dead silence, as if even the air were solidified by the weight of that wealth.

"Minister Wang, this is Lu Qingshan."

"Comrade Qingshan," Wang Shanghong's voice on the other end contained no courtesy, cutting straight to the chase with a sense of iron‑clad urgency. "I'll be brief. According to the precise intelligence we just received, the US Treasury Department and the Securities and Exchange Commission will soon launch a temporary Compliance Review targeting all newly‑entered, large‑scale financial capital controlled by Eastern investors. They will, under the guise of anti‑money‑laundering and financial security, investigate your trading qualifications and the source of your funds."

In the apartment, the people who had just been immersed in the shock of a hundred‑billion‑dollar windfall felt their hearts drop suddenly, as if falling from the clouds straight into an ice cave.

David Cohen's face went pale with a "swish," and he knew better than anyone what that meant. This was not an ordinary review; it was an invisible legal net woven specifically for Lu Qingshan, the Wall Street classic known as the Home Court Rule. Once covered, not even the transactions could proceed—the massive $120 billion would be frozen indefinitely in bank accounts, reduced to a meaningless string of numbers, immobile.

"Your funds may be seized, and the investigation could last six months—or forever," Wang Shanghong's voice deepened. "They won't give you any chance to play a hand at the table."

Lu Qingshan listened, his face showing no surprise, and simply said, as if stating a known fact: "Rothschild family's younger son, Nathaniel, is already in Washington. He is joining Morgan, Rockefeller and the other Four Great Families to lobby Congress, intending to seal us off by rule."

A three‑second silence fell on the other end of the line.

Immediately, Wang Shanghong's suppressed laughter came through, containing astonishment, approval, and a sense of relief.

"Hahaha… good! Good! You kid, your news is faster than mine! I was worried they'd catch you off guard, looks like I worried for nothing."

Wang Shanghong's tone instantly relaxed, as if a burden had been lifted. "You kid, you're really hard to track down! To get in touch with you, several of our comrades from the United Kingdom and the United States pulled every string and hunted you for two whole days! We originally wanted to congratulate you on the splendid battle you fought in London, only to find you in the blink of an eye had fled to New York's wolf's den."

He paused, and his voice became exceedingly solemn.

"Note this number; it's my direct line. Chen Lao asked me to give you a message."

Chen Lao!

Lu Qingshan tightened his grip on the phone slightly. He knew the weight of those two characters.

"Comrade Qingshan, go ahead. You can report your situation to me at any time; if you need help, don't forget," Wang Shanghong's voice, transmitted through the airwaves, reached Lu Qingshan's ears clearly, and seemed to become a warm current flowing into the hearts of every Chinese present, "Behind you is the motherland."

Those five words, though light, seemed to carry a thousand‑pound force, smashing into everyone's hearts and shattering the fear and unease that had just arisen.

Lu Qingjun's eyes instantly reddened; instinctively he straightened his back, as if a fire burned in his chest. He recalled the bitter days of drying salt at Lu Tai, the humiliation of being discriminated against on Hong Kong Island, and now his elder brother's name could reach the heavens and receive the highest level of state support! It was an indescribable pride and excitement that gave him goosebumps all over.

Li Junjie gripped his pen tightly, his finger joints whitening from the pressure, and suddenly felt that the analyses in his notebook on "game theory" and "organizational models" seemed so tiny and cold before the two characters "motherland." It was a brand‑new variable, a colossal force born of civilization and bloodline that could not be quantified by data, capable of overturning any sophisticated Western business theory!

"Thank you, Minister Wang, I understand," Lu Qingshan's voice remained calm, but beneath that calm lay a weighty gravity.

After hanging up, the apartment fell into dead silence.

Everyone's gaze converged on Lu Qingshan. Fear, worry, shock, excitement… a swirl of complex emotions collided in the air, ultimately turning into a scorching feeling called "anticipation."

Lu Qingshan handed the big phone back to Lu Qingjun, turned, and surveyed the crowd. His gaze moved from the pale, bewildered David, to the stubborn, reddened‑eyed Lu Qingjun, then to the thoughtful Li Junjie and the solemn Ye Ning and Zhang Qianru.

Finally, he smiled.

That smile held no trace of tension, but rather a composure and ease born of seeing the opponent's cards.

"Did everyone hear?"

The crowd instinctively nodded.

"It seems our new neighbor doesn't really welcome us," Lu Qingshan walked to the massive floor‑to‑ceiling window, gazing at the brilliant New York nightscape, his tone tinged with a hint of playfulness, "They seem terrified of us taking a seat at the table, even refusing to let us even step through the door."

He turned and looked at his team.

"Since the host wants to close the door, we must find a way to create our own invitation—a invitation they cannot refuse, even scrambling to hand to us."

His gaze fell on Zhang Qianru and Ye Ning.

"The primary task is to resolve our trading qualification issue," Lu Qingshan's voice was clear and powerful, dispelling the gloom over everyone's heads, "They want to investigate the source of our Star Han Investment, so we won't use that name."

"Ye Ning, Qianru, you two are in charge. You can do a shell acquisition—find a clean investment firm that has been registered in the United States for a long time with good reputation, and buy it. You can also act as a proxy, using reputable Wall Street law firms and trust institutions to split our capital into hundreds of portions and enter the market under their names."

"In short, I want you to find, as quickly as possible—not just one, but a dozen or so—channels that allow us to invest the money into the New York Stock Exchange in a lawful, compliant, and silent manner."

Zhang Qianru's eyes lit up instantly; she immediately grasped Lu Qingshan's meaning. It was the classic 'break it into pieces, conceal the whole.' The U. S. legal system is complex, but with enough money one can always find top‑tier lawyers to devise countless schemes within the legal framework.

"Boss, rest assured," she replied without hesitation, her voice full of Confidence, "New York never lacks lawyers and fund managers eager to make money. Within three days I guarantee to set up at least ten independent capital channels that cannot be traced back to us."

Lu Qingshan nodded in satisfaction, then looked at David Cohen, who had risen from the floor but still wore a face of despair.

"David."

"Huh? Yes, boss!" David jolted, standing upright as if shocked by electricity.

"You are a local, familiar with the hyenas here. I need you and Qianru to help me scout some 'friends.'" Lu Qingshan emphasized the word 'friends,' "Those who are capable yet suppressed by big institutions—independent traders, near‑bankrupt small hedge funds—whose thirst for money is stronger than anyone's. They would gladly earn a quick profit."

David's mind raced, the desperation on his face gradually fading, replaced by a pathological excitement. He understood that Lu Qingshan intended to weave, beneath Wall Street's massive net, his own invisible dark web composed of countless greedy spiders!

"I understand, boss!" his tone changed, "I know a few guys who are true gamblers, Wall Street's outcasts; as long as there's money, they'll sell their souls to the devil! They will love you to death!"

Seeing the revived fighting spirit in the crowd, Lu Qingshan walked back to the window, his finger lightly tapping the bullseye drawn on the glass with a red marker.

"This market, it seems, isn't very free either."

A hint of contemptuous amusement tinged his voice.

"We haven't even taken a seat yet; we just changed shoes at the doorway, and the bankers inside have already started trembling," he said, turning to the team whose eyes now blazed again, a cold curve forming at the corner of his mouth, "Then let them shake a little longer."