Chapter 407: More Than One Clever Person—Who's Copying My Work?

Ye Ning's words were like a silent probe, piercing the atmosphere in the apartment that was built of awe and fanaticism.

There was no sound at all in the whole room.

The voice of the financial anchor on the TV and the red arrows showing Goldman Sachs's plummeting stock price seemed like a backdrop from another world.

Everyone's movements froze.

David Cohen's blood, which had just boiled from Lu Qingshan's declaration to "take down even your neighbors," instantly cooled by more than half.

The fanaticism on his face faded, replaced by a deeper bewilderment.

"Another... another one?" he muttered, his voice hoarse, "Short Selling AAA rating MBS like us? And... not smaller in scale than us?"

He abruptly turned to Li Junjie, speaking at breakneck speed: "That's impossible! The core of this strategy is information asymmetry! It exploits the market's arrogance and bias! If a peer of comparable size suddenly appears, CDS prices will be driven up quickly! Our position‑building cost will multiply! That will ruin our plan!"

This time, Li Junjie did not refute him.

Li Junjie's brows knit into a knot as he heavily drew a huge question mark on his notebook, with "mysterious capital" written beside it.

"Who could it be? Soros? No, he's probably busy gnawing on Goldman Sachs's fat meat right now, can't be distracted. Other Wall Street giants? Even less likely; they are the biggest promoters and beneficiaries of this Bubble, and by Short Selling MBS they are stabbing themselves in the foot."

His mind raced, eliminating possibilities one by one, but each elimination added another weight of doubt to his heart.

"Brother," Lu Qingjun leaned close to Lu Qingshan, lowering his voice, his face full of caution, "Is this bastard an enemy or a friend? Could it be the devilry of John Parker? He might be deliberately inflating prices to drain our money."

The atmosphere in the apartment shifted from the earlier frenzy to a strange stagnation.

An unknown, powerful peer doing the same crazy thing as us unsettles us more than any known enemy.

"Why panic?"

Lu Qingshan finally spoke, setting down his tea cup and standing up.

He didn't look at the subordinates whose faces had gone pale from tension; instead, he walked to Ye Ning's side and stared at her computer screen.

On the screen, streams of transaction data flowed, with a portion highlighted by Ye Ning in a special color.

Those were the transaction records coming from that mysterious capital.

"They're not inflating prices," Lu Qingshan said calmly, looking at the data.

"What?" David moved closer.

"Look," Lu Qingshan pointed at the screen, "their bid price always stays a tiny margin away from our ask price, sometimes even lower than ours. They don't compete for orders; after we sweep a price level, they immediately follow, taking the remainder. This is not like a competitor, more like..."

He paused, seemingly searching for the right word.

"Like a synchronized Friendlies," Ye Ning took over, her expression unchanged, but her words sent a shock through everyone.

Friendlies?

In this crazy scheme, they actually have Friendlies?

"How could that be..." David felt his worldview overturned once again.

"Nothing is impossible," Lu Qingshan turned, looking at the crowd, "Do you think the whole world has only us as the smart ones?"

"When a storm is about to arrive, there will always be more than one sea‑swift that can sense it early."

His words eased the tension in the room considerably.

But a new question surfaced.

"Then who exactly are they?" Li Junjie asked further.

"That's what I want to know too," Lu Qingshan walked back to the sofa and sat down again, "They've shared our firepower and sped up position building, which is good. But a hidden ally can sometimes be more troublesome than a visible enemy."

He looked at Li Junjie and David.

"I need you both to drop everything right now. Pull out every transaction record of this capital, starting from the first. I want you to analyze each of their trades, their order times, their volumes, the brokers they chose, their preferred MBS batches... I want you to find their 'fingerprint' from these cold numbers!"

"Yes!" Li Junjie and David immediately obeyed, placing two laptops side by side, and the data on the screens began to scroll wildly.

The whole team revved up again, but this time the target was no longer Wall Street giants, but a mysterious "Friendlies".

Time ticked by second after second.

Only the clatter of keyboards and occasional low‑voiced discussions remained in the apartment.

"Their trading times are very regular, concentrated at 10 a. m. and 2 p. m. New York time, avoiding the most chaotic opening and closing periods."

"Too calm; their volumes are extremely uniform, with no emotional fluctuation, as if... programmed in."

"The counterparties they choose, besides Goldman Sachs, Deutsche Bank and other big investment banks, also include some European and Japan pension funds, which hold massive MBS and have the poorest risk awareness."

Analysis results were compiled in front of Lu Qingshan.

The outline of that mysterious opponent was gradually sketched in the data: calm, professional, strictly disciplined, well‑funded, and their market knowledge was no less than theirs.

"Wait!" David suddenly shouted, pointing at a broker's name on the screen, his breathing rapid, "Boss, look! Their biggest trade was executed through this company!"

Everyone's gaze converged there.

The screen displayed a name: CBI New York Branch.

"CBI?" Lu Qingjun looked bewildered.

But Li Junjie's and Zhang Qianru's expressions became extremely vivid the instant they saw the name.

"Huaxia National Bank International Holdings Co., Ltd..." Li Junjie, supporting his glasses, read the full name word by word, his voice trembling with the reveal.

The apartment fell into absolute silence again.

If the previous speculations were clouds of doubt, this name's appearance was like a lightning bolt cleaving all the fog.

The answer was about to be called forth.

David Cohen opened his mouth, glanced at the screen, then at Lu Qingshan; his brain had completely crashed.

He felt he wasn't part of a Financial War, but had stumbled into a chessboard laid out by an Eastern superpower, utterly beyond his comprehension.

On this board, Wall Street's century‑old investment banks seemed merely pieces.

Lu Qingshan stared at the name, silent for a moment.

Then, slowly, a meaningful smile appeared on his face.

That smile held surprise, realization, and the delight of meeting a worthy opponent.

He picked up the red encrypted phone, did not call Wilson, but directly dialed Wang Shanghong's direct line.

On the other end, Wang Shanghong's voice was steady as ever.

Comrade Qingshan.

Lu Qingshan leaned on the sofa, gazing at the steel forest outside the window that symbolized the summit of capital, and, in a tone that blended teasing with a sigh, slowly spoke.

Minister Wang, New York is quite lively.

He paused, then uttered a sentence that left the person on the other end of the phone in silence as well.

It seems our 'Pilot Enterprise' is not only ours.