Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

Back in room 302, Lin Qinghan left the door slightly ajar—the lock had long been broken by Ruth, and now it could only be held open by a chair.

She sat on the slightly sagging single bed, clutching the still-warm brown paper envelope in her hand, her fingertips slightly white. The envelope wasn't thick, but it had a chilling texture, as if it contained not a few sheets of paper, but a burning lump of uranium.

"Open it and take a look? Don't worry, there's no time bomb inside."

Shen Jinghong leaned against the window, pulled the curtains open a crack, and cautiously observed the movements outside, but spoke in a nonchalant tone.

Lin Qinghan took a deep breath and carefully removed the sealing wax.

As the envelope was torn open, a faint chemical smell, characteristic of blueprint printing paper, wafted out. She pulled out the top sheet, and by the dim light of the desk lamp, her gaze fell upon the dense lines and parameters.

With just one glance, her pupils instantly contracted to the size of pinpoints, and her breath abruptly stopped.

The prominent "North American Aviation" eagle emblem in the upper right corner of the drawing felt like a heavy hammer blow to her heart.

Below that was a line of chilling English text:

**F-86 Saber - Main Landing Gear Hydraulic Assembly - TOP SECRET**

(F-86 Sabre fighter jet - Main landing gear hydraulic assembly - Top Secret)

Scroll down further to find more crucial aerodynamic data on the wing sweep angle, as well as a cross-sectional diagram of the turbine blades of the J47 engine.

"Snapped!"

Lin Qinghan's hand trembled, and several drawings scattered onto her lap. She abruptly looked up, staring intently at Shen Jinghong, her voice hoarse and dry with extreme shock:

"Shen Jinghong...are you insane?"

"This is an F-86! The US military's trump card for dominating the skies! Blueprints of this caliber are top secret, even at Lockheed's final assembly plant! How did you manage to get your hands on them?"

"Don't ask about the process, just ask about personal charm."

Shen Jinghong turned around, walked up to her, picked up the fallen landing gear blueprint, gently patted off the dust, but his eyes were unusually clear. "The process is not important, the result is. With this, our Shenyang Aircraft Manufacturing Plant can avoid taking twenty years of detours."

"But……"

Lin Qinghan's hands were trembling; she knew all too well the weight of this thing.

If the coded notebook we just discussed gave a nation "hearing ears," then this set of blueprints gave it "steel wings." This is a magical artifact capable of changing the course of war.

"Why should I have it?"

She bit her lip, her gaze intense. "Wouldn't you feel more at ease if you kept it yourself? I'm just a mathematician, what if..."

"Because you're a mathematician, you're the safest."

Shen Jinghong interrupted her. He squatted down beside the bed, his gaze level with hers, all his playful smile vanished, and his tone became solemn, as if he were making a vow:

"Now all the agents on the ship are watching me. In their eyes, I'm just a troublemaker who can do magic tricks and talks nonsense, a moving target. Although that commotion just now got Rose off the ship, the FBI will definitely put me under even closer surveillance."

He pointed to the leather suitcase behind Lin Qinghan:

"But you're different. In their eyes, you're just a cold, aloof female scholar, a victim of my 'harassment.' Your suitcase has that special anti-magnetic layer; that's the best place to hide this thing."

Lin Qinghan remained silent.

She looked at the man before her. At this moment, he was no longer the carefree scoundrel, but a soldier willing to risk his life for his country. By handing over these blueprints to her, he was essentially entrusting his life and the future of his nation to her without reservation.

This trust was so heavy it almost suffocated her, yet so intense it made her heart tremble.

"Besides, how can this not be considered romantic?"

Shen Jinghong suddenly changed the subject, his face returning to that smug smile, "Ordinary people give diamond rings and flowers when they're dating. We're scientists, we give F-86 blueprints. Don't you think that's much more sophisticated than those mundane things?"

"What's this called? This is called a 'top-tier token of love'."

"Who...who's dating you?!"

Lin Qinghan's cheeks flushed bright red at his sudden flirtatious remark, instantly dissipating most of the solemn atmosphere from before. She glared at him, hurriedly stuffed the drawings back into the envelope, then opened the hidden compartment of the suitcase and solemnly locked it inside.

"Glib-tongued."

She muttered a curse under her breath, but her tone lacked its usual coldness; instead, it carried a hint of inexplicable coquettishness.

"Alright, pack your things. We'll take turns keeping watch tonight."

Shen Jinghong stood up, stretched, and looked out at the dark sea. "After tonight, the road ahead will be even more difficult."

……

Two days later, in the early morning.

As the first rays of sunlight pierced the clouds above the sea, turning the originally dark blue waters a golden hue, a long, drawn-out whistle awakened the sleeping giant ship.

"Look! It's land!"

"We're here! We've arrived!"

A deafening cheer erupted from the deck. Countless returning travelers surged onto the bow of the ship; some wept bitterly, while others laughed heartily.

Shen Jinghong and Lin Qinghan stood in a corner of the top deck.

In the distance, a lush island appears and disappears in the morning mist. Rolling hills, a bustling harbor, and rows of Western-style buildings with a strong colonial flavor.

Victoria Harbour.

Pearl of the Orient.

Although the Union Jack was still flying here, and although this place was still filled with spies from various forces, for them, this was the first stop on their way home, a springboard to the north.

"We've finally arrived."

Lin Qinghan leaned against the railing, the sea breeze ruffling her long hair. Looking at the land, her eyes slightly reddened, "Three years. I've dreamed of this day."

"Yes, we've arrived."

Shen Jinghong narrowed her eyes, but her gaze was even more profound than hers.

His gaze passed through the bustling Central district and the crowded Tsim Sha Tsui, as if he could see the underground world lurking in the shadows, ready to bare its fangs.

The resources in the system space—thousands of tons of gold, mountains of munitions, and precision machine tools—could not be transported back to the mainland undetected by him alone.

He needs help.

We need local strongmen, and we also need patriotic businessmen.

"Miss Lin, are you ready to disembark?"

Shen Jinghong turned his head, looked at his comrade-in-arms with whom he had shared a life-or-death bond, and a meaningful smile appeared on his lips:

"We've fought off spies and acted out scenes along the way, so we've been tested. But once we get to Hong Kong Island, that's where the real danger lies."

Lin Qinghan straightened the collar of her trench coat, adjusted her glasses, and resumed her cool and capable demeanor, patting the suitcase in her hand:

"With you here, even a dragon's den or a tiger's lair is just a slightly larger bathtub."

"Haha, I love hearing that!"

Shen Jinghong laughed loudly and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, on which was written an address and a name.

That was a key figure he knew from his previous life, and also the first piece he had laid out in Hong Kong.

"Let's go, Lin Qinghan."

He watched the approaching dock, and at his compatriots with black hair and yellow skin waiting on the shore, a cold glint flashed in his eyes:

"Some old friends are getting impatient. For example, George, the arms dealer who wanted to double-cross the mainland, and the eldest son of the Huo family who has been secretly supporting the mainland."

"It's time to collect the debts owed to us, with interest."