Did he trick the young marshal into becoming sworn brothers and then go south to Huangpu Military Ac

The sky was so gloomy it looked like it was about to drip water.

Three black Ford sedans slowly pulled up outside the revolving glass doors of the Astor House Hotel.

As the car door opened, several burly men dressed in black short-sleeved shirts with bulging waistbands jumped out of the car.

Their eyes were cold and wary as they scanned the surrounding police officers and rickshaw pullers.

Chen Gfu climbed out of the second car, turned around and took out a folding wheelchair from the back seat of the car.

After carefully opening and securing the wheelchair, we gently helped a frail elderly man out of the vehicle and into his wheelchair.

The old man was wearing a dark gray long robe and had a thick wool blanket covering his legs.

The pain had ravaged his cheeks, but his eyes still held a dignified and unyielding air of someone who had long held a high position.

Zhang Renjie, the biggest behind-the-scenes financier in the South, a leading figure among the Jiangzhe financial magnates, and the gentleman's "second elder brother".

"Renjie Gong, that person is on the top floor."

Chen Gfu pushed the wheelchair, lowered his voice, and said with a hint of anger from being turned away earlier: "We're just taking the initiative to come to him. We're giving him too much face."

Zhang Renjie didn't reply immediately. He looked up at the most luxurious hotel in the Far East and gently stroked the edge of the blanket with his fingers.

"Guofu, remember this: when asking someone for a favor, your attitude isn't important; what matters is what you offer."

Zhang Renjie's voice was hoarse, yet exceptionally clear: "I've seen that copy of the HSBC letter of credit. It's real money. These days, whoever has a gun is a king, and whoever has money is a god. Let's go in and meet this god of wealth."

As the wheelchair rolled over the thick Persian carpet in the hotel lobby, the British manager at the front desk, who had previously been aloof and arrogant, immediately put on a humble smile upon seeing Zhang Renjie's imposing presence.

He personally came out to lead the way, and even rushed to open the elevator door.

In Shanghai, even foreigners had to kneel before these real local bullies.

Top floor, outside the presidential suite.

Zhao Sihai, dressed in a sharp suit, stood with his hands clasped in front of his lower abdomen, like a guardian deity.

His gaze sharpened when he saw the wheelchair being pushed out of the elevator.

He recognized Zhang Renjie immediately from the Fengtian Army's intelligence files.

He really came; Zhang Renjie personally visited.

Zhao Sihai was filled with admiration for the young officer's methods.

"Mr. Zhang, right?"

Zhao Sihai stepped forward, bowed slightly, and said in a respectful but not servile manner: "Mr. Lin instructed that if you arrive, please wait a moment."

Chen G-fu frowned, about to explode. "Renjie Gong himself came to the door, and he won't even open it?"

"Guofu, step back."

Zhang Renjie raised his hand to stop Chen Guofu. Looking at the closed door, a sharp glint flashed in his cloudy eyes. He then shook his head and smiled, "It's interesting that you could predict my arrival! We'll wait as you please."

This wait lasted a full ten minutes.

The corridor was extremely quiet, with only the monotonous ticking of the old-fashioned clock on the wall.

Chen was so anxious that sweat beaded on his forehead. He tried to kick the door several times, but Zhang Renjie kept his eyes closed and remained motionless in his wheelchair.

He was calculating, and also reassessing the young man just a door away.

Ten minutes, neither long nor short, is an extremely precise application of psychological pressure.

The other party is telling him in this way, "Don't think you're a Southern veteran; here, I set the rules."

A person with such composure and skill is definitely not an ordinary rich young master.

Click.

The door was finally opened from the inside.

Zhao Sihai turned to the side, Zhang Renjie opened his eyes, and the wheelchair was pushed inside.

The reception room was spacious and bright. In front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, a young man stood backlit, holding a cup of still steaming black coffee.

Hearing the sound of the wheelchair, the young man turned around.

Zhang Renjie paused for a moment.

Too young, judging from his appearance, he's no more than twenty years old.

He wore a minimalist white shirt, no tie, and the cuffs were casually rolled up halfway, but his eyes were so cold.

Zhang Renjie had seen countless people. He had seen the compassionate eyes of the gentleman, the eyes that hid ambition, and the greedy and brutal eyes of various warlords.

But he had never seen such unfathomable eyes in a young man, like a dry well, locking all emotions and calculations deep inside.

"Mr. Zhang, I've heard so much about you. It's a shame you're unwell but still made the trip in person. I apologize for not being a good host."

Lin Qi put down his coffee cup, his tone calm, without the awkwardness of a junior meeting an elder, nor the stiffness of deliberately putting on airs; it was a completely equal dialogue.

He didn't reach for the wheelchair, but pointed to the sofa. Mr. Chen snorted and pushed the wheelchair over.

"Mr. Lin is a promising young man."

Zhang Renjie coughed twice and got straight to the point: "I'm a useless old man, so I won't beat around the bush. I've seen the letter of intent and the receipts. To be honest, the South is indeed in a difficult situation right now. Since Mr. Lin is willing to serve the country, as long as you're willing to lend this money to the South, you can name your terms. We will definitely not treat a meritorious person unfairly."

A standard set of political rhetoric: national righteousness plus empty promises.

Lin Qi walked to the opposite side of the sofa and sat down, leaning back and placing his fingers interlaced on his knees.

He ignored Zhang Renjie's words and turned to look at Chen G.

"Mr. Chen, could you please get a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet? Mr. Zhang has trouble walking, so a little spirits will help improve his blood circulation."

Chen Fu was taken aback and glanced at Zhang Renjie.

Seeing Zhang Renjie nod, he walked to the wine cabinet, poured two glasses of wine, and brought them over.

Lin Qi didn't touch his wine glass, but looked at Zhang Renjie and suddenly chuckled.

"Mr. Zhang, do you think your military academy project in Guangzhou will succeed?"

Zhang Renjie's face darkened. He hadn't heard such a blunt, even contemptuous, question in a long time.

"What do you mean by that, Mr. Lin? You advocate the Three Principles of the People, and now that we are allying with Russia and accommodating the Communists, people of insight across the country are responding one after another. We are establishing military academies to cultivate the seeds of revolution. As long as the army is united, the world will naturally be in our hands."

"stop!"

Lin Qi raised a finger, ruthlessly interrupting Zhang Renjie's long speech.

He stood up, walked to his desk, took a drawing out of the drawer, walked back to the coffee table, and unfolded it with a whoosh.

This is an extremely complex chemical pipeline diagram, densely marked with various temperature and pressure parameters.

"Mr. Zhang, we are all smart people. Slogans are for the lower classes. Between us, we should only talk about industrial logic."

Lin Qi pointed to the reaction tower model in the center of the drawing.

"You are now penniless, you ask the Soviet Union for 5,000 water-cooled machine guns, and buy 2,000 Mauser rifles on the black market. On the surface, you have a strong and well-equipped army, but then what?"

Lin Qi leaned forward, staring intently at Zhang Renjie.

"Where do you get the rifling replaced if the barrel is worn down? Where do you get the firing pin repaired if it breaks? The most critical issue is the gunpowder. Your dilapidated Shijing Arsenal in Guangzhou has a few old machine tools left over from the Qing Dynasty. They can't even purify the most basic sulfuric acid and nitric acid. Without these three acids and two bases, what are you going to use to make single-base smokeless gunpowder?"

Zhang Renjie's breath hitched, and Chen Gfu's expression changed drastically. He was about to speak, but Zhang Renjie silenced him with a glare.

"Go on."

Zhang Renjie's voice was strained.

"You think that the Soviet Union's provision of money and weapons was a timely help. You're wrong."

Lin Qi's eyes were cold and sharp: "This is putting a noose around your necks. Once the battle on the front lines becomes intense, and Soviet supply ships are intercepted at sea by the Zhili warlords or British warships, you student soldiers will only be able to charge forward with firewood sticks that have no bullets. This is called being controlled by others."

Lin Qi's words struck Zhang Renjie's heart like a heavy hammer.

Every word hits the South’s most fatal weakness, which no one dares to face.

Everyone was caught up in the frenzy of building up the army, completely ignoring the fact that there was no complete industrial logic to support this war.

The study was eerily quiet, with only Chen G's heavy breathing as the only sound.