Chapter 454: Three Factions' Riders Meet the Aircraft, Rothschild

The cockpit of that black monster bird was engulfed in a deathly silence thinner than the air at thirty thousand meters.

In the comm channel, the noisy Crow made no sound at all—no roar, no plea, not even the muffled thud that marks a life ending. It vanished into thin air, as if an invisible giant hand had silently erased it from the world.

This absolute quiet was more chilling than any threat.

Zhang Qianru's body continued to tremble uncontrollably; she stared at her boss's overly calm profile, her mind a haze. Pulling carrots… one after another… She had heard that story as a child, never imagining a fairy tale could become such a bloody death sentence.

Li Junjie forced himself to sit upright, feeling his spine go soft. Watching the magnificent curve of Earth outside the window, he realized for the first time that his financial models and legal statutes were pale and powerless in this man's world.

Ye Ning was the first to return to normal. She silently bent down, picking up the scattered documents one by one and reorganizing them, as if the remote assassination across half the planet had been merely a boring interlude in the flight.

"Sir."

In the front of the cockpit, the ace pilot Green Major's voice came through the internal communicator, breaking the suffocating quiet. His tone remained calm and professional, yet a faint, sandpaper‑dry edge could be heard.

"We will enter European airspace in ten minutes and begin descending. Expected arrival at Geneva Cointrin International Airport in forty minutes."

He paused, then added.

"The ground… has cleared the runway. The Swiss Air Force has dispatched two 'Phantom' fighters to escort us."

"Escort?"

Li Junjie and Zhang Qianru exchanged a glance, each seeing a hint of absurdity in the other's eyes. They were aboard a strategic reconnaissance aircraft that could outrun every fighter in the world—did it need escort?

"That's no escort."

The Swiss government is using this method to convey, to the world and to the man in their rear seat, a humility mixed with awe and Fear.

"Understood."

Lu Qingshan's reply was only three words. He kept looking at the document in his hand, as if the two fighters outside the window held no interest for him.

The black bird began its descent.

【9】 The fuselage pierced the clouds; the majestic Alps rose like a sprawling white beast in view, its snow‑capped peaks flashing dazzling light in the sun.

The fuselage passed through the clouds, and the majestic Alps, like a sprawling white beast, appeared in the view. The snow‑capped summit reflected a dazzling glare in the sunlight.

"Geneva, arrived."

The Aircraft did not land at the civilian terminal; under the guidance of a lead vehicle, it slowly taxied to a secluded, heavily cordoned independent zone of the airport, sealed off by troops and police.

The cabin door opened.

A rush of cold, fresh air scented with the mountains surged in.

Below the gangway, there were no flowers, no red carpet.

Only three distinct, eerily atmospheric groups of riders.

The first group, at the front, was led by a white elder of about sixty, dressed in a handcrafted cashmere coat, hair meticulously groomed. He moved with elegance, a standard aristocratic smile on his face, yet the blue eyes hidden behind gold‑rimmed glasses revealed unmistakable fatigue and scrutiny. Behind him stood a line of equally well‑attired, solemn attendants.

The second group, positioned slightly farther back, comprised several Swiss government officials in dark suits; the leader kept dabbing sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, his expression uglier than crying.

The third group lingered in deeper shadow, a black Volga sedan bearing a Soviet diplomatic license plate, windows sealed, its occupants unseen, yet the murderous aura radiated like a slab of ice, freezing the surrounding air.

Lu Qingshan was the first to step down the gangway.

His black coat rustled in the cold wind blowing off the Alps.

The white elder immediately came forward, bowing slightly to Lu Qingshan with a humble yet aristocratic poise.

"Mr. Lu, good day. I am Jonathan Rothschild." He introduced himself in fluent Chinese, "My father Jacob, in London, sends you his most sincere greetings."

He is the current head of the Rothschild family.

"Mr. Jonathan." Lu Qingshan looked at him, his face revealing no joy or anger, "Sorry to have kept you waiting."

"Not long, not long." Jonathan's smile remained, and he turned, making a 'please' gesture, "The castle banquet is ready, our European friends are all waiting. The convoy is over there."

He seemed to try to regain a sliver of initiative with that host's demeanor.

Yet Lu Qingshan did not move.

He only glanced at the luxurious Bentley convoy behind Jonathan, then suddenly asked an unrelated question.

"Have my travel expenses been received?"

Jonathan's smile froze instantly.

Behind his glasses, a flash of humiliation and anger flickered, quickly concealed.

"Mr. Lu really knows how to joke," he said dryly, "You are our honored guest…"

"I never joke," Lu Qingshan interrupted, "especially when it comes to money."

He turned his head toward the few Swiss officials sweating profusely a short distance away.

"I suppose the Bank President of the Swiss National Bank has already received the transfer order from the Bank of England. Ten Tons of Gold, not an ounce less. I want to see them in my newly opened account before the banquet begins."

The Swiss officials' faces turned whiter than the summit snow in an instant.

Jonathan's mouth twitched imperceptibly.

He finally understood that this man had come neither to negotiate nor to attend a banquet.

He had come to collect a debt.

Using the most humiliating method, in front of the whole world, to demand a Blood Debt they could not refuse.

"Of course, of course." Jonathan inhaled deeply, forcing out a smile uglier than crying, "Everything will be done according to your wishes."

After speaking, he made the 'please' gesture again, his tone carrying a barely perceptible urging.

Only then did Lu Qingshan step forward toward the convoy.

Li Junjie, Zhang Qianru, and Ye Ning followed closely behind.

As they were about to board, Lu Qingshan suddenly halted, turned, and looked toward the black Volga in the distant shadows.

His gaze seemed to pierce the dark window, landing on someone inside the car.

The Volga's engine roared suddenly, then, at a near‑fleeing speed, it spun around and vanished at the end of the airport road.

Jonathan's pupils contracted sharply.

Lu Qingshan withdrew his gaze and got into the car.

The car door closed.

The convoy started slowly, heading toward the Geneva lakeside.

Inside the vehicle, the atmosphere was oppressive.

Qiao Nason sat opposite Lu Qingshan, trying to find some topics to ease the mood, such as the weather, such as the scenery of Geneva.

But Lu Qingshan, in fact, did not pay any attention to him.

He only watched the scenery racing backward outside the window, watching the city under the sunset, as if dusted with gold powder, and suddenly, to the Ye Ning beside him, lightly gave a command.

"Ye Ning."

"Boss, I'm here."

"Have Li Zhi'an go to the destination and wait for us. Also scan a copy of the document I previously asked you to print."

Lu Qingshan's voice was soft, yet it made the Qiao Nason opposite him tense his back instantly.

"In the personal capacity of the Chief Economic Advisor of the UK Government and the interim chair of the Global Stability and Development Fund, issue to all guests attending tonight's round‑table meeting."

"Write the email subject as…"

Lu Qingshan turned his head, looking at the now‑pale Jonathan Rothschild, and slowly uttered the title of the judgment that would make all of Europe tremble.

"'Proposal No. 1 on the Settlement of the Rothschild and Associated Families' Historical Debt to China'."

"Send it now."

"Let them have an appetizer before the banquet begins."