Chapter 405: Can

The air in the apartment grew scorching because Lu Qingshan said, "Reach fifty billion."

That wasn't money; it was a war letter.

That wasn't a transaction; it was a proclamation.

Ye Ning showed no hesitation; their fingers on the keyboard turned into trails of afterimages.

Each massive purchase order was split by complex algorithms into countless pieces, like inconspicuous streams, silently flowing from hundreds of different proxy accounts into Wall Street's bottomless sea of trades.

But this time, their destination was no longer the New York Stock Exchange's pool of stocks, but the darker deep waters of the over‑the‑counter derivatives market.

"Take all of Goldman Sachs's orders!"

"Take the German Bank's as well!"

"And Credit Suisse wants a piece of the pie too? Tell them, 'Welcome!'"

David Cohen stood behind Ye Ning, murmuring to himself; he was no longer the panicked trader, but had become a fervent disciple of Lu Qingshan.

He watched the rapidly executed data on the screen, a pathological excitement flashing in his eyes.

"They're laughing, I can feel it; the whole Wall Street is mocking us!" he said, pointing at a quote. "Look, Barclays Bank, their price is even lower than Goldman Sachs's! They're afraid we won't buy from them!"

On Li Junjie's notebook, a massive network of connections had already been drawn.

"Boss, I understand. Goldman Sachs was just the start; they showed the whole market with concrete action how profitable selling us CDS can be. Now every bank and fund holding MBS assets wants to treat us as a free insurance vault, shifting their risk to us piece by piece via premiums."

Lu Qingjun listened half‑understood, but he grasped the point and grinned.

"Good thing! It's as if all the village's chickens are coming to pay New Year respects to the weasel! Saves us from having to catch them one by one!"

The whole team, immersed in a massive sense of superiority—"Everyone's drunk, I'm the only sober one"—executed Lu Qingshan's every command swiftly and precisely.

They were using money to build an unprecedentedly grand tomb for Wall Street's greed.

And the tomb's designer, Lu Qingshan, at this moment paid no attention to the numbers on the screen.

He walked to the floor‑to‑ceiling window painted with a bullseye, picked up a black marker, and encircled the names "Goldman Sachs" and "Lehman Brothers" with a larger circle.

Then, beside that big circle, he drew a tiny square.

In the square, he wrote two characters.

Family.

…

Morgan Stanley Headquarters.

John Parker had regained the composure of a financial behemoth's leader.

On the table before him, the flickering market data had been replaced by printed documents.

"Lu Qingshan, male, twenty‑six years old. Born in Huaxia Capital City. Married, wife named Lin Yue'e, with a daughter, Lu Xiao Xue."

His personal assistant, a capable blonde‑eyed woman, was quietly reporting the information brought back overnight by a private detective.

"His rise to wealth is vague; the earliest record is a food factory. Yet within a few short years, he amassed astonishing assets in Capital City and Hong Kong Island, including several landmark buildings and a bank; his family has considerable connections on the mainland. He operates low‑key, almost never appearing in the public eye; his home address and security measures are top‑tier."

Parker's fingers tapped lightly on the desk, producing a dull thud.

"Weakness? I need his weakness."

"At present…" the assistant hesitated, "His biggest trait is his protection of family. Our people tried to approach his residence in Capital City from the outside, but the security there exceeded our expectations, even showing shadows of a military background."

"Military background?" Parker frowned.

"Yes, sir. That may be one reason the Huaxia authorities are willing to back him. He is not merely a businessman."

Parker fell silent.

If the opponent were just a rich lunatic, he had a hundred ways to kill him.

But if that lunatic is backed by a nation's violent machine, the situation becomes tricky.

"Continue the investigation," Parker's tone grew grim. "I don't believe anyone is invulnerable. Since we can't find a break on him himself, let's look at those around him."

He lifted his head, and a serpentine cold glint flashed in his murky eyes.

"His wife, his daughter, his siblings… lay out the entire web of his social connections for me! I need to know who he dines with each day, which school his daughter attends, which mall his wife likes to shop at!"

"Sir, doing that… carries high risk and may violate Huaxia law."

"Then let the Huaxia people do it!" Parker's voice rose sharply. "Spend money! Spend big money! In Hong Kong Island, in Capital City, there are always those willing to sell their lives for cash! I don't care what methods you use; within a week, I want a report that will make him feel pain!"

…

Saint Remo Apartment.

The red encrypted phone rang for the third time.

Lu Qingshan seemed to have anticipated it; he turned around and answered the phone himself.

"Boss."

On the other end, it was Wilson's voice, but this time his tone lacked the previous urgency and excitement, gaining a weightiness instead.

"Speak."

"I've leveraged some old contacts in London to probe John Parker's side for you," Wilson's voice was very low, "He seems to have abandoned the idea of confronting you head‑on in the financial market."

"He's scared?" Lu Qingshan asked lightly.

"No, he changed tables," Wilson's tone grew serious. "He hired Krol Company, the world's top commercial investigation and risk consulting firm, but they sometimes take on Wet Work."

"Get to the point."

"The point is, their investigation isn't aimed at your company or your funding sources," Wilson paused, seeming to choose his words.

"Their people have already arrived in Hong Kong Island and are probing, via various channels, for information about your family on the mainland."

The apartment fell silent instantly.

Lu Qingjun's smile froze.

Li Junjie stopped his keyboard tapping.

David Cohen turned even paler with fear.

They all understood what that sentence meant.

The war had already spread from the financial sphere to the real world.

The other side began to use any means.

"I understand."

Against everyone's expectation, Lu Qingshan's voice remained so calm that no ripple could be heard.

He hung up the phone, walked slowly to the window, and watched the brilliant city nightscape outside.

The air in the room was so oppressive it made it hard to breathe.

"Brother…" Lu Qingjun's voice trembled, "These damn bastards, what do they want? They dare…"

"They certainly dare," Lu Qingshan interrupted him, turning around, a faint smile still on his face.

"When a person loses at the card table and sees red, all he can do is two things."

He extended one finger.

"First, flip the table, just as he had the police catch our people."

He then extended a second finger.

"Second, go backstage, kidnap your family, and force you to concede."

He looked at the pale faces of the crowd, whitened by tension.

"You think this is his trump card, right? It's the weapon that can cause me the greatest harm."

The others instinctively nodded.

"No." Lu Qingshan shook his head, the smile on his face gradually fading, replaced by a chill that made the room's temperature drop sharply.

"That's not my weakness."

He picked up the phone on the table and dialed Wang Shanghong's direct line.

The call was answered almost instantly.

"Comrade Qingshan."

"Minister Wang, I need a favor from you," Lu Qingshan's voice was clear and strong.

"I want John Parker and his entire family to be unable to obtain any visa to enter Huaxia for the next hundred years."

"I also want every Huaxia company that does business with Morgan Stanley to receive a 'Risk Warning' from the relevant department."

There was a brief silence on the other end, then Wang Shanghong's resolute voice came through.

"No problem. It'll be implemented within half an hour."

After hanging up, Lu Qingshan looked at the stunned crowd and slowly spoke the second half of his sentence.

"That's not my weakness; that's my reverse scale."

"If he doesn't move, we're just in commercial competition. If he dares to move, that's war."

He once again picked up the black marker pen and heavily crossed out the square labeled "Family."

Then, he walked over to Ye Ning's side.

"Notify Wilson."

His voice was as cold as the Siberian wind.

"The Goldman Sachs line can be shut down."

"Have him immediately leak the news that Goldman Sachs has a massive Risk Exposure in the Russian bond market to the whole world."