Chapter 432: Wall Street's Funeral March

The New York Stock Exchange's trading halt did not last long.

At 9:30 a. m. the next morning, the opening bell rang on time.

But this time, no one cheered, no one clapped.

The entire Trading Hall was shrouded in a suffocatingly oppressive atmosphere. All traders' fingers hovered above the keyboards, awaiting the imminent, catastrophic moment.

Inside Saint Remo Apartment, Lu Qingshan sat on the sofa, three massive screens in front of him displaying data from the world's major financial markets.

Ye Ning stood behind him, holding a tablet that streamed real‑time trade order confirmations from around the world.

David Cohen and Li Junjie sat at separate computers, their ten fingers flying over the keys. In front of them lay piles of coffee cups and empty energy‑drink cans, their eyes bloodshot, yet their pupils burned with an almost insane exhilaration.

Lu Qingjun leaned against the wall, arms crossed, staring at the screen nervously. Though he could do little, he had to be present to witness the battle that would rewrite history.

"Opening," Ye Ning reported calmly.

On the screen, Lehman Brothers' stock price began moving from yesterday's closing US Dollar 18.

US Dollar 18.

US Dollar 17.5.

US Dollar 16.

In just thirty seconds, the price fell like a kite with its line cut, dropping at a visibly rapid pace.

"The sell‑order wave is coming," Li Junjie's voice trembled, not from Fear but from excitement.

"Retail investors are fleeing, institutions are fleeing too," David Cohen said, staring at the capital flow data on another screen, "Trading volume has already exceeded ten times the normal level!"

US Dollar 15.

US Dollar 13.

US Dollar 10.

When the price slipped below the US Dollar 10 mark, a suppressed gasp rose in the New York Stock Exchange's Trading Hall.

It was Lehman Brothers' first two‑digit breach since 1972.

"The Circuit Breaker Mechanism is about to trigger," Li Junjie warned.

According to NYSE rules, when a stock's single‑day decline exceeds fifty percent, an automatic Circuit Breaker triggers, halting trading for fifteen minutes.

But Lu Qingshan merely shook his head.

"It won't happen."

"Why?" Lu Qingjun asked, unable to hold back.

"Wall Street needs a complete funeral," Lu Qingshan's voice was terrifyingly calm, "A mid‑course pause would only prolong the panic. Better to let it plunge all the way at once, so everyone gives up completely."

As soon as the words finished, an emergency notice popped up on Li Junjie's computer.

He glanced at it and froze.

"Boss, you were right. The New York Stock Exchange just issued a notice that today's Circuit Breaker Mechanism for Lehman Brothers… is temporarily cancelled,"

David Cohen snapped his head around, looking at Lu Qingshan in disbelief.

"How did you know?"

Lu Qingshan gave no answer, merely lifted the already‑cooled glass of plain water before him and took a gentle sip.

He, of course, knew.

Because last night, David Rockefeller had called him.

The call was brief, containing only one sentence.

"Lu, don't stop tomorrow."

With that single sentence, Lu Qingshan understood everything.

Wall Street's Supreme Emperor had already made a decision: use Lehman Brothers' death to secure the system's rebirth. And Lu Qingshan was the executioner of that decision.

US Dollar 9.

US Dollar 8.

US Dollar 7.

The price's decline could no longer be called a "crash"; it was a near‑free‑fall collapse.

Each price movement meant billions of wealth evaporating in an instant.

Numbers shrank wildly in countless pension funds, mutual funds, hedge funds, and even ordinary retail accounts.

Someone broke down and sobbed in front of the screen.

Someone smashed a keyboard outright.

Someone else knelt on the floor, praying at the screen.

But no deity answered them.

Because a deity was currently sitting in an apartment in Manhattan, watching coldly as the disaster he himself had orchestrated unfolded.

"Boss, our put options have started profiting massively," Ye Ning's voice remained calm, but the flash in her eyes betrayed her inner turbulence.

"Current book profit…" she paused, seemingly confirming the figure, "Close to US Dollar 40 billion."

US Dollar 40 billion.

That figure briefly plunged the apartment into silence.

Lu Qingjun's mouth opened wide enough to fit an egg. He could never have dreamed, in his lifetime, that he would witness such astronomically large wealth growth.

And it happened in less than an hour.

"Continue," Lu Qingshan's voice broke the silence, "It's not time to close the position yet."

"Yes," Ye Ning continued to stare at the screen.

US Dollar 6.

US Dollar 5.

When the stock price fell below five US Dollars, the entire Wall Street went crazy.

All the financial channel anchors were reporting this unprecedented crash in hoarse, strained voices.

"Lehman Brothers, the financial giant with a history of one hundred fifty‑eight years, is going through the darkest moment of its existence!"

"Its market value has evaporated by more than ninety percent! This is the most devastating single‑day crash in American financial history!"

"The Federal Reserve has not made any rescue statement to date! Does this mean Wall Street is really going to abandon Lehman Brothers?"

Just when everyone thought the price would keep falling, an unexpected event occurred.

New York time, 11:00 a. m. sharp.

In front of Lehman Brothers' trading building, a large number of police and Federal Bureau of Investigation vehicles suddenly appeared.

Dozens of FBI agents in dark suits rushed into the building, sealing off all exits.

Immediately after, a television camera captured a shocking scene.

Lehman Brothers' Chief Executive Officer Richard Ford was hoisted by two FBI agents and walked out of the building.

His hands were bound with silver handcuffs, his face pallid, his steps staggering.

Behind him, a dozen senior executives were also handcuffed, lined up, and, surrounded by countless flashbulbs, escorted into police cars.

The image instantly appeared on the front pages of financial media worldwide.

In Saint Remo Apartment, David Cohen watched the scene and sprang up from his chair.

"Oh my God! The FBI arrested Ford! They arrested the entire Lehman executive team!"

Li Junjie was also so shocked he could not speak.

He turned his head toward Lu Qingshan, his expression as if looking at a prophet who could foresee the future.

"Boss... you knew this would happen all along?"

Lu Qingshan set down his water glass, stood up, and walked to the floor‑to‑ceiling window.

"It's not that I knew, it's that I arranged it."

He turned around, looking at the team that was now completely stunned.

"Do you think that merely short selling can completely crush Lehman Brothers?"

"The market is only a battlefield; the real war is fought under the triple stranglehold of law, politics, and public opinion."

"Last night, an anonymous 300‑page report was simultaneously sent to the FBI, the Securities and Exchange Commission, and the New York State Attorney's Office."

"The material detailed all evidence of Lehman Brothers executives' alleged financial fraud, insider trading, and market manipulation over the past three years."

"Including how they forged financial statements, transferred toxic assets to offshore shell companies, and massively sold their own shares on the eve of the crash…"

Lu Qingshan spoke lightly, but each word struck like a hammer on everyone's hearts.

"That report... was it prepared by you?" Zhang Qianru finally found her voice.

"It wasn't me," Lu Qingshan shook his head, "it was you."

Zhang Qianru was stunned.

"Do you remember those 'Black Material' I asked you to prepare?" Lu Qingshan reminded, "I said public opinion is a weapon, but I didn't say it can only be used against public opinion."

"Law is also a weapon. And the material you prepared is just enough for the FBI to lock Ford up for life."

Zhang Qianru's complexion turned pale in an instant.

She realized that, without her knowing, she had become a key piece in this war.

And she didn't even know where those materials in her hands would be used.

"Boss…" her voice trembled, "if the FBI finds out the material came from us…"

"They won't find out," Lu Qingshan cut her off, "because the material passed through at least five intermediaries, changing hands repeatedly, and finally was delivered to the FBI as an 'anonymous report.'"

"Moreover, every piece of evidence in the material is genuine and withstands any investigation. The FBI won't care who supplied it; they'll only be grateful that someone did them a great service."

At that moment, a news alert popped up again on Ye Ning's computer.

【The Securities and Exchange Commission issued an emergency statement: In view of Lehman Brothers' alleged serious financial violations, a comprehensive investigation will commence immediately, and all executives' personal assets will be frozen.】

Immediately after, another one.

【The New York State Attorney's Office announced: It will formally indict Lehman Brothers and its thirteen executives on multiple charges including securities fraud and financial falsification.】

One heavy piece of news after another slammed the market like a rapid‑fire barrage.

Lehman Brothers' stock price, under this series of blows, completely lost its final support.

Four US Dollars.

Three US Dollars.

Two US Dollars.

When the price fell below one US Dollar, no one was shouting in the Trading Hall any longer.

Everyone stared at the screen, dazed as if their souls were gone.

A financial empire once valued at six hundred billion US Dollars turned into a pile of waste paper in less than two days.

New York time, 3:00 p. m. sharp.

The closing bell rang.

Lehman Brothers' final closing price: 0.21 US Dollars.

Drop: 98.7 percent.

This is the largest single‑day decline in American financial history.

It is also the first top investment bank on Wall Street to go completely bankrupt within two days.

In Saint Remo Apartment, everyone stood up.

They looked at the shocking figure on the screen, at a loss for words.

The silence lasted a full minute.

In the end, it was David Cohen who broke the silence.

He walked up to Lu Qingshan and bowed deeply.

"Boss, I take back everything I said before."

He lifted his head, and on the face that always wore a world‑weary smile, only awe remained at this moment.

"You are not a god."

"You are... Creator."

Li Junjie also walked over, bowing as well.

"Boss, from today onward, you are the only teacher I, Li Junjie, will ever have in this life."

Zhang Qianru, Ye Ning, and even Lu Qingjun all simultaneously bowed in respect to Lu Qingshan.

Lu Qingshan said nothing.

He simply turned around and looked at the city outside the window that was about to fall into night.

The sun was setting, and the orange‑red afterglow spilled over Manhattan's skyscrapers, coating the bustling metropolis with a layer of blood‑colored light.

At that moment, the red encrypted phone rang again.

Ye Ning answered the phone, and after listening for a few seconds, her pupils suddenly contracted.

She lifted her head, looked at Lu Qingshan, and her voice carried a hint of incredulous tremor.

"Boss, it's the White House calling."