Hong Kong variety show: The mastermind behind the scenes is emerging.

1982 October.

Hong Kong Island, Central, Golden Harvest International Building.

Although it's winter, the stock market has been unusually hot these past few days. Hong Kong Island Electric's share price has surged for three consecutive trading days thanks to Hongkong Land Group's relentless and almost frantic share buyback program. The steep red candlestick chart resembles a spear piercing the sky, breaking through the gloom of the Hang Seng Index below 600 points and reaching a historically high level with a significant premium.

In the chairman's office on the top floor, the air was filled with a faint aroma of cigars.

Cheng Yiyan stood in front of the huge electronic screen, looking at the newly updated closing data. Even he, who was usually calm and composed, couldn't help but frown slightly.

"Boss," Cheng Yiyan pointed to the dizzying numbers on the screen, "those foreigners at Hongkong Land have gone all out this time. Intelligence shows that in order to maintain absolute control over Hongkong Electric, David Newbigin not only drained the last bit of working capital from Hongkong Land's books yesterday afternoon, but also mortgaged two prime commercial buildings in Causeway Bay to HSBC and borrowed a high-interest loan of up to HK$1 billion."

"The current stock price has deviated significantly from its actual value, with a premium of over 60%. If we continue to pursue the acquisition as originally planned, the cost will be at least one billion yuan higher than the initial budget."

As a shrewd and ruthless trader, Cheng Yiyan enjoys the thrill of offense, but he is also very good at weighing gains and losses.

"If we keep buying, we'll really become suckers who are just helping Hongkong Land carry its sedan chair."

Lu Chen wasn't looking at the screen. He was lounging on the expensive Italian leather sofa, toying with a crystal chess piece between his long, slender fingers. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow on his cool profile, revealing no trace of anxiety.

"Since it's not worth it, let them play by themselves."

Lu Chen gently released his fingers, and the crystal chess piece landed on the rosewood coffee table with a crisp "tap".

"Notify the trading department to suspend all acquisition activities related to HK Electric. Withdraw all the buy orders we have placed on the market; do not buy another single share."

"Pause?" Cheng Yiyan was taken aback. "Boss, although we are now the second largest shareholder, if we stop now, Land Group might take the opportunity to catch its breath. Once they recover, and even dilute our shares through a private placement, then all our previous efforts..."

"Gasping for breath? No, no, no, Lao Cheng," Lu Chen chuckled, stood up, and walked calmly to the floor-to-ceiling window. He looked down at the Kang Le Building with its round windows, a hint of mockery and cruelty flashing in his eyes.

"I won't give them a chance to breathe. I'm stopping now because I have a better way to deal with them... To crush Jardine Matheson, just throwing money at them is the worst approach. We need to attack their foundation."

……

At the same time.

Central, Hong Lok Building.

In the No. 1 conference room of the Hongkong Land Group, perhaps because the heating was too strong, everyone looked like they had just come out of a sauna, covered in sweat.

David Newbigian ripped off the tie around his neck that was making him feel suffocated. His typical Scottish white face was flushed red, looking both exhausted and morbidly excited.

"Great news! Gentlemen! Fantastic news!" Newbijian waved the newly printed stock market report in his hand, his voice hoarse but filled with ecstasy. "Jiahe has stopped! Since yesterday afternoon's close, for the entire morning, we haven't seen any large-scale buy orders in the market! That Lu Chen, he's scared, he's afraid of us!"

"call……"

A collective sigh of relief filled the conference room, like a group of people who were about to drown finally surfacing.

These past few days have been a living nightmare for them. To wage this price war against the reckless Golden Harvest, Hongkong Land Group has not only emptied its coffers but also incurred enormous debt interest. If Golden Harvest continues its acquisitions, Newbikini really doesn't know where to find the money.

"God help us...it seems that nouveau riche isn't a bottomless pit after all," one of the directors remarked, wiping his sweat.

"Chairman, although the crisis has been temporarily averted, however..." The CFO, though relieved, remained pale as he looked at the reports in his hand. "Our cash flow... is on the verge of collapse. We've practically drained all our liquidity to buy back shares. Furthermore, we've been long overdue on payments to suppliers for the Grand Hyatt project, renovation costs, and previously booked marketing expenses..."

"Yesterday the contractor was threatening to sue us."

Mentioning "The Cointreau Hotel" made Newbikin's relaxed nerves tighten again, and his temples throbbed with pain.

That is a super five-star luxury hotel built by Hongkong Land Group at a huge cost. It is located in a prime location in the Mid-Levels of Central. It was originally intended to be Hongkong Land's flagship project for entering the high-end service industry, and also to enhance the prestige of Hongkong Land's real estate sector.

However, to my surprise, it really was a year of bad luck.

First, Jardine Matheson suffered a setback in the Kowloon Wharf battle, causing its stock price to plummet; then, the uncertainty surrounding the Sino-British negotiations led to a downturn in the tourism industry. As a result, although the hotel was built and had top-notch facilities, it failed to gain a reputation. Occupancy rates were pitifully low, and every day it opened was a money-burning ordeal—it was simply a money-devouring beast.

"Our sunk costs are too high right now, hundreds of millions are tied up in it. We absolutely can't give up on the hotel! We have to get it going!" Newbie lit a cigar to relax. "We must increase the hotel's occupancy rate. Public relations department, do you have any plans?"

"This..." The public relations manager looked troubled and stammered, "Chairman, we've tried the usual TV commercials and newspaper headlines, but the results have been mediocre. Mainly, we don't have the money; those who do have the money have already gone to other hotels..."

"That's why I asked you to come up with a solution. Otherwise, what's the point of hiring you?" Newbie shouted angrily.

Just as the conference room fell into a deathly silence.

A small shareholder, who had been sitting in the corner with his head down playing with his pen, slowly raised his hand.

His name is Bob Chen. He holds only a negligible 2% stake in Hongkong Land and is practically invisible on the board of directors; nobody even remembers his name.

"Speak!" Newbridge was desperate for a lifeline, and he wouldn't let go of even a proposal. He waved his hand to signal Newbridge to speak.

"Chairman, fellow directors," Chen Zhijian adjusted his glasses, speaking with a seemingly timid yet clear-headed manner, "I believe the reason Cointreau Hotel isn't popular is because it lacks a sensational topic that can attract global attention. The usual 'GG' is too cliché and fails to reflect Cointreau Hotel's high-end positioning."

As he spoke, he took a slightly yellowed photograph out of his briefcase and pushed it to the center of the table.

"I know a descendant of a Russian nobleman who is in exile and is also a famous private collector. He has three rare treasures that came from the Tsar's court—Tsar Nicholas II's coronation crown, the Empress's diamond necklace, and the scepter set with pigeon blood rubies."

"These three items have never been publicly displayed before the world. They are priceless and full of mystery."

Chen Zhijian observed the gradually brightening look in Nubijian's eyes and continued, "What if we borrowed these three national treasures and then held a top-notch exhibition at the Cointreau Hotel called 'The Romanov Dynasty: Lost Treasures'..."

"We'll invite Hong Kong's tycoons, celebrities, and even consuls to the opening reception on Christmas Eve. Just imagine the luxury, the mystique... The name 'Grand Prix' will be on the front page of media worldwide! We can then establish it as the premier social center in Hong Kong Island and even Asia!"

"A high-end jewelry exhibition? The Tsar's treasure?" Newbrig's eyes lit up completely.

That's a brilliant idea!

Luxury, mystery, and aristocratic flair perfectly align with the high-end image that Hongkong Land Group aims to cultivate. Moreover, if they can attract all of Hong Kong's wealthiest individuals, the resulting exclusive and exclusive network effect will be unparalleled. This could not only revive the hotel but also significantly boost Hongkong Land Group's sluggish stock price!

"Can we borrow these three pieces of jewelry?" Newbie asked anxiously. "And what about security?"

"That collector is currently experiencing some cash flow difficulties. He'd be happy to lend it to us if we pay a substantial insurance premium and venue fee," Chen Zhijian assured him confidently. "As for security, the Jundu Hotel itself has top-notch security, and if we hire a professional security company, there's absolutely no chance of anything going wrong."

"Great! That's wonderful!"

Newbikin slammed his hand on the table, feeling that Lady Luck had finally started to smile upon him. "This matter is yours to handle! Chen... Chen Zhijian, right? Excellent! As for the budget... the finance department will fully cooperate! Make it a big deal! Make it known throughout Hong Kong! Make it the talk of the world!"

"In this cold winter, we need a grand banquet to bring good luck! And to show the outside world that our Hongkong Land Group remains resilient!"

"Yes, Chairman."

Chen Zhijian lowered his head and respectfully replied. But beneath his lowered eyelids, a barely perceptible sneer curled at the corner of his mouth.

……

That evening, Repulse Bay.

Chen Zhijian returned to his somewhat old villa, locked the study door, drew the curtains, and dialed an unrecorded, encrypted number with trembling hands.

Good evening, Mr. Lu.

Chen Zhijian's voice was filled with awe and fear. No one knew that he had gone bankrupt last month due to margin trading during the stock market crash.

It was a man named Lu Chen who helped him pay off his huge debts and used that as leverage to keep him at Jardine Matheson as an insignificant "nail".

Even the Tsar's jewels were borrowed by Lu Chen from Sofia's treasury.

"Is everything taken care of?" Lu Chen's calm, emotionless voice came from the other end of the phone.

"It's all taken care of," Chen Zhijian swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady. "Newbjerg has agreed. The jewelry exhibition is scheduled for a week from now. The venue is the banquet hall on the top floor of the Cointreau Hotel. He's having a huge publicity campaign going on, he wants the whole world to know."

"well done."

Lu Chen's voice remained calm. "Your debts are wiped clean. In addition, I've transferred two million US dollars to your Swiss account. Take the money, bring your family, and go on vacation to South America or New Zealand. Don't go back to Hong Kong Island for now."

"Thank you! Thank you, Mr. Lu! Thank you for your great kindness!" Chen Zhijian felt as if he had been granted a pardon and was so excited that he almost knelt down.

hang up the phone.

On the top floor of Jiahe Building, Lu Chen spun around in his boss's chair, looking out at the dazzling night view.

"The first link is in place."

Lu Chen said to his fourth brother, who was standing in the shadows, with a hint of bloodthirsty laughter in his voice, "Activate the second ring."

……

Thousands of kilometers away.

Lion City, Sentosa Island.

This is a famous resort paradise in Southeast Asia, with sunshine, beaches, and coconut groves; everything looks so beautiful and peaceful.

Inside a secluded luxury seaside villa.

A man dressed in a white linen suit, with a meticulously combed slicked-back hairstyle and gold-rimmed glasses, was sitting on the terrace, elegantly slicing a rare, bloody steak on a plate.

His movements were slow and gentlemanly, each cut precise and accurate. But if you looked closely into his eyes, you would find no human emotion in them, only a chilling coldness and madness.

He had no name; people in the underworld called him "Doctor".

He was once a top-notch explosives expert in the special forces, and is now one of the most notorious gang leaders in Southeast Asia.

"Ring ring—"

The satellite phone on the table suddenly rang.

The doctor put down his knife and fork, picked up a clean white napkin, elegantly wiped his mouth, and answered the phone.

"Who is it?" The voice was gentle and magnetic.

"Doctor, long time no see." The voice on the other end of the phone was altered with a voice changer; it was "Lincoln," the middleman who arranged business for doctors on the dark web.

"Oh? It's Lincoln," the doctor said with a smile, as if chatting with an old friend. "Is there any big business opportunity you'd like to discuss?"

"There is indeed a big deal, and it's taking place on Hong Kong Island," the middleman Lincoln said bluntly. "A week from now, at the Grand Hotel on Hong Kong Island, the Tsar Jewelry Exhibition. The employer has his eye on three exhibits: a crown, a necklace, and a scepter."

"The employer only needs these three items. The rest is yours to do with as you see fit. Whether you kidnap a tycoon for ransom or blow up a hotel, it's none of the employer's business."

"Reward?" the doctor asked casually, cutting a small piece of beef and putting it in his mouth.

"Thirty million Hong Kong dollars each. If all three are received intact, I'll round it up and give you—one hundred million Hong Kong dollars!"

One hundred million!

Even a doctor who's seen a lot of money and robbed countless banks couldn't help but pause for a moment while cutting his steak.

"That sounds very tempting."

The doctor pushed up his glasses, revealing his signature, suave smile. "However, the Cointreau Hotel is owned by the Landmark Group, so its security level is quite high. And for an exhibition of this caliber, security will definitely be very tight."

"The employer will pay a deposit of 20 million and provide a detailed floor plan of the hotel, a security deployment plan, and... a timeline of the police response," the mysterious man paused, "but you'll have to crack the protective shields and pressure sensors on the three pieces of jewelry yourself."

"Oh?"

The doctor's smile widened, a challenging glint in his eyes. "Looks like the employer wants to test me? Fine... prey that's too easy to get is tasteless."

The doctor stood up, walked to the edge of the terrace, and looked out at the azure Strait of Malacca. He could almost smell the blood and the scent of banknote ink carried on the sea breeze.

"A person must rely on themselves."

He softly recited that classic life motto, his tone revealing absolute confidence and madness.

"Please tell my employer."

"I'll take this job."