Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The wind in Northwest China is like a barbed whip, howling across the Gobi Desert and finally lashing the rows of low red brick houses.

This is a labor reform farm in Northwest China.

Within a radius of a hundred miles, there is nothing but rocks and sand; not even a bird can fly across it.

"Da da da da—"

The cacophony of sewing machine noise echoed through the workshop, jarring the ears. The air was thick with the stale smell of cotton and sweat, mixed with the odor of machine oil, creating a suffocating atmosphere.

At workstation number 308.

A young man with a shaved head, wearing a gray and white striped uniform, was hunched over like a shrimp, his legs mechanically pedaling the sewing machine.

He was so thin he looked unrecognizable.

Her once chubby, oily face now had high cheekbones, sunken eyes, and several bruises. Her hands, which used to be used only to pick up braised pork with chopsticks and gamble with dice, were now covered in chilblains and cracks, and she was quickly pushing fabric along.

Shen Yaozu.

The arrogant young master Shen, who was once so powerful in Nanluoguxiang, has finally realized his dream of "eating the government's rice".

However, this imperial grain is a bit hard and a bit tough.

"308! Don't stop!"

A loud shout exploded behind him.

The correctional officer, holding a baton, stared sternly at him. "Today's quota is one hundred vests! No dinner if you don't meet it!"

Shen Yaozu was so frightened that he trembled and suddenly stepped forward, almost stabbing his finger into the eye of a needle.

"Reporting to the government! I...I really can't pedal anymore..."

His voice was hoarse and strained, like a broken bellows, as he cried, "My leg is cramping... Can I rest for just one minute? Just one minute!"

"rest?"

Before the discipline officer could speak, a large hand with tattooed arms reached out from the side and grabbed Shen Yaozu by the back of the neck.

That was the cell boss, known as "Scarface Bro".

"Snapped!"

Scarface slapped Shen Yaozu across the face, making him see stars.

"You newbie good-for-nothing, you dare to haggle? I haven't even finished my hundred orders yet! Get to work! If you make me starve, you'll be in big trouble when we get back to jail tonight!"

Shen Yaozu covered his face, tears and snot streaming down his face.

He dared not resist.

These past few days, he's been terrified of being beaten. Here, he's no longer the precious treasure his parents cherish; he's a lowly wretch, someone anyone can trample on.

He cried as he pedaled the pedals desperately.

"Da da da da..."

Amidst this monotonous and despairing rhythm, memories of the past involuntarily surfaced in Shen Yaozu's mind.

Those were such good times.

He sleeps until late morning every day, and is waited on hand and foot. When he runs out of money, he asks that simple-minded guy for some; if he doesn't get it, he makes a scene, and he always gets it back.

At that time, he felt that his older brother was just a beast of burden to be slaughtered, a useless coward.

But now?

That "good-for-nothing" guy was riding in a Hongqi car. He was a top-level protected person in the country, a high-ranking officer whom even soldiers had to salute!

But he could only stand in this dark and gloomy prison cell, working on that damned sewing machine, unable to even get a hot meal.

"Waaaaah... Brother... I was wrong..."

As Shen Yaozu stomped on the knife, he wailed and cried, regret gnawing at his heart like a venomous snake. "I was so stupid, so stupid... If I hadn't touched that knife, if I had just honestly taken that five hundred yuan..."

Unfortunately, there's no going back in life.

What made him even more desperate was the news brought by the new prisoner a couple of days ago.

The courtyard at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang has changed hands.

Because of the huge high-interest loans he owed and the fines for illegal resale, his family's meager savings had long been confiscated. To pay off the debts, Shen Dayong and Liu Cuihua sold the house, only to be evicted like dogs by the new owner.

I heard that winter was particularly cold.

The elderly couple had nowhere to go and could only squeeze into a shack at the foot of the city wall. During the day, they would scavenge for scraps, and at night they would be harassed by thugs who came to collect debts.

Liu Cuihua went insane because she couldn't bear the blow.

She spends her days grabbing people on the street, shouting, "My son is a bureau chief, my son is a returnee from overseas," only to be mistaken for a crazy woman and beaten black and blue.

Shen Dayong was also paralyzed, lying on a tattered mat, waiting for a kind person to give him a piece of spoiled food.

Family destroyed and people killed.

This is the price they pay for their greed.

"Mom... I'm so sorry..."

Shen Yaozu cried so hard that snot bubbles came out of his nose, but he didn't dare to slow down his work at all.

Outside the window, snow was falling heavily.

The cold snowflakes pounded against the iron bars of the window, reflecting on his desperate and contorted face. He knew that he would never leave this Gobi Desert again in his lifetime.

……

Thousands of miles away, deep in the Yanshan Mountains.

The snow was falling heavily.

But the snowflakes falling from the sky were melted by the soaring energy of the construction site before they even hit the ground.

The searchlights illuminated the entire valley as bright as day.

Bulldozers roared, pile drivers trembled, and countless engineering soldiers chanted slogans as they dug out the hope for the future of this country in the frigid minus twenty degrees Celsius.

On the mountaintop of Mining Area No. 3.

Shen Jinghong stood with his hands behind his back, wearing a military overcoat.

The cold wind tousled his hair, but it couldn't extinguish the burning flame in his eyes. He looked at the giant underground base rising from the ground beneath his feet, the prototype of the Shenzhou Bureau and the cradle of China's aviation industry.

"Chief."

Footsteps sounded behind me.

Lin Qinghan, carrying a thick scarf, walked over gently, stood on tiptoe, and wrapped it around his neck.

The scarf still carried her body heat and the faint scent of jasmine.

"Marshal Nie just called."

Lin Qinghan stood beside him, following his gaze to the construction site, her voice gentle, "That case is closed. Shen Yaozu received a life sentence and all his property was confiscated. Your parents... were placed in a relief station by the neighborhood committee. It'll be tough, but at least they won't freeze to death."

Shen Jinghong listened without any change in expression.

It was like hearing about something trivial that had nothing to do with me.

"Okay, I understand."

He responded softly, tightening the scarf around his neck; the warm touch completely dispelled the last trace of gloom in his eyes.

The rotten old family that had once bound him was finally a thing of the past.

The obsession left behind by the original owner also vanished at this moment.

From this day forward, Shen Jinghong will live only for this land and for the people around him.

"Sparse and cold".

Shen Jinghong turned around and looked at the woman standing beside her. Snowflakes fell on the tips of her hair, crystal clear, breathtakingly beautiful.

"The family matters are settled, and the spies have been caught."

He reached out and gently took her slightly cold fingers in his hand, then put them into his coat pocket to warm them.

"Now, let's get down to business."

Shen Jinghong's gaze passed over the continuous mountain ranges and turned to the distant east, to the peninsula that was currently shrouded in war, and to the powerful enemy who thought he controlled the skies.

A dangerous yet extremely confident smile slowly curved the corners of his lips.

"The Americans are jumping around quite enthusiastically over there, thinking we can only rely on millet and rifles?"

"It's time to prepare a real 'big gift' for them."

"A gift that will make them tremble at the sight of it and have nightmares at the mere mention of it."

Lin Qinghan looked at him, her eyes overflowing with admiration and love.

She grasped his hand in return and nodded firmly.

"The blueprints have been issued, materials will arrive tomorrow, and 5,000 skilled workers have been assembled."

"Director Shen, just give the order, and the Shenzhou Bureau... can begin operations at any time!"

Shen Jinghong took a deep breath; it was the smell of engine oil, soil, and snowflakes—the most captivating fragrance of the industrial age.

He suddenly waved his hand, pointing to the brightly lit construction site, his voice piercing through the wind and snow, echoing through the valley:

"Pass on my orders!"

"Project 501, fully launched!"

"I want our first supersonic fighter jet to pierce the sky within three months!"

Rumbling--

As if in response to his vow, a loud blast came from a distant blasting cannon.

The deafening echo reverberated through the valley, heralding the official arrival of a brand new industrial era belonging to China!