A $50 million margin call? I'll short Wall Street.

Blankfein is saying two things.

First, he knew that oil prices wouldn't rise to $200, and Goldman Sachs itself didn't really believe in that research report; it was just a key to selling complex derivative structures.

Secondly, he knew that Lu Ze knew this too. So he asked: What exactly is your trump card?

Lu Ze looked at the Atlantic Ocean and remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he said:

"The moment the wax wings melted was truly spectacular."

He paused.

"But what's even more interesting are those waiting on the ground."

Blankfein didn't laugh, he just nodded very quietly.

With just this one action, the two people made a silent confirmation.

They continued walking along the breakwater.

The sound of the waves filled the silence that followed.

As he reached the corner of the breakwater, Blankfein suddenly stopped and looked at the edge of the lawn inside the manor.

There is a tree there.

A huge oak tree, with a thick trunk and lush foliage, cast a large, dense shadow in the spring sunshine.

But if you look closely, there is a patch of bark near the roots that is slightly blackened, giving off a faint smell of decay.

Blankfein put his hands back in his pockets and looked at the tree.

"This tree was already there when I bought this estate."

He said that for the first time, his tone contained something hard to define, not entirely sentimental, nor entirely indifferent.

"The gardener told me last week that its roots had started to rot."

He said that if there are a few more heavy rains this summer, it might not be able to withstand the storm.

He turned his head and looked at Lu Ze from the side.

"I asked him, 'Should we cut it down now?'"

He said, "No rush. It can still provide shade for the surrounding lawn and bushes. If we cut it down now, those things nearby will be affected."

Blankfein looked down at the lawn beneath his feet.

"He's right."

His voice became lower and slower.

"So I decided to let it collapse on its own. I'll wait for the heavy rain, wait for its roots to rot completely, wait for it to lose its ability to support itself, and let it crash down on some morning when I don't need to plan it."

He looked up, his gaze falling directly into Lu Ze's eyes.

"Lance, what are your thoughts on gardening?"

This is an invitation.

It was also a test.

In a sense, it's about reaching out.

Lu Ze looked at the tree, at the blackened bark, and at the excessively dense shadow.

It is still a metaphor.

He knew Blankfein was talking about Lehman Brothers... or Merrill Lynch, those guys whose balance sheets were as bad as Bearston's.

He knew what Goldman Sachs was already doing behind the scenes—buying CDS against Lehman Brothers, and in a substantial amount. This wasn't entirely hedging. Perhaps Goldman Sachs' proprietary trading desk was also using various methods to short Lehman Brothers.

He also knew that Blankfein's words at that moment were asking him: "Do you want to stand next to this tree, put a basket over it, and wait to catch the falling fruit?"

Use Goldman Sachs' channels. Leverage Goldman Sachs' resources.

Goldman Sachs will also get what it wants from this arrangement.

Lu Ze stared at the tree quietly for nearly ten seconds.

Then he spoke, his voice calm, even with a somewhat casual tone.

"Waiting for it to fall on its own is indeed the easiest way, Lloyd."

He turned his head, and there was no hint of jest in his dark eyes.

"But you should be careful about one thing."

"If the root system of this tree has already grown together with the root systems of all the surrounding trees."

He paused for a moment, his gaze slowly shifting from the oak tree to the entire lawn, to the shrubs growing in the shade, and then to the sea breakwater further away.

"When it falls, it may not only smash itself."

"It might crush the entire estate's fence."

The last three words fell into the sea breeze by the breakwater, carried by the sound of the waves, and headed towards the distant gray-blue Atlantic Ocean.

Blankfein stared at Lu Ze, motionless.

The casual smile that had been on his face for so long finally faded away at this moment.

A genuine reassessment, rather than anger and displeasure.

He had assumed that the person sitting across from him was a hunter far smarter than Richard, a top hedge fund manager with a keen sense of smell who knew when to enter the market.

But at this moment, he sensed something even more unsettling.

This young man wasn't just eyeing Lehman or any single prey.

He was observing the overall trend of the forest.

Blankfein turned back and looked at the oak tree again.

The sound of waves crashing against the breakwater was exceptionally clear at that moment.

After a long silence, he spoke.

His voice was even lower than before, and for the first time, a truly rare and indefinable emotion appeared in his tone.

"The scenario you just described," he said slowly, "has been discussed by several people within our team."

He paused.

"But the conclusion is: that tree won't break the whole estate. The Federal Reserve won't let that happen. They bailed out Bear Stearns; they won't fail to bail out Lehman."

This was the first time in this conversation that he uttered something that sounded like he genuinely believed it.

This is also the first time I've discussed something so frankly.

Bear Stearns was truly dead for shareholders; its stock price plummeted to single digits, and countless investors lost everything.

But not the financial system, because it was acquired, and the Federal Reserve put a lot of effort into that acquisition.

Its debts are still being borne by others, and the financial system has not been greatly affected.

So what Blankfein meant was that Lehman Brothers might be acquired, and the market might panic. But it wouldn't go bankrupt.

Lu Ze looked at him.

He neither refuted nor nodded in agreement.

He simply turned his attention back to the Atlantic Ocean.

That sea exists silently, remaining eternally indifferent to everything that happens on this land.

"The Federal Reserve saved Bear Stearns."

Lu Ze repeated the sentence softly.

There was no sarcasm in his tone, nor any deliberate pause.

These words drifted on the sea breeze for a while.

Then he turned to look at Blankfein and said the last sentence of the conversation:

"Yes, Lloyd, they saved them."

"They'll probably save them again next time."

Blankfein stared at him, his face expressionless.

This sentence is a declarative sentence.

But in this context, it sounds more like a rhetorical question.

"Lehman Brothers is much bigger than Bear Stearns."

After a few seconds of silence, Blankfein suddenly spoke.

Lu Ze did not respond to him.

The sea breeze continued to blow.

On the distant horizon, a cargo ship was moving extremely slowly, as if it were being carried by the entire Atlantic Ocean, heading in a direction known only to itself.

The two men stood on the breakwater, neither of them speaking for a moment.