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

Zhang Jingjiang's Mansion, Huanlong Road, French Concession.

In that extremely secluded room on the second floor, the air seemed to have solidified into solid lead, heavy, oppressive, and even carrying a suffocating chill.

The fine winter rain outside the window pattered against the glass, making a soft rustling sound, but it couldn't mask the heavy breathing of the people inside.

After relaying the phone call, Chen stood frozen at the door, unsure whether to go in or back. His shirt was completely soaked with cold sweat, sticking stickily to his back.

Dead silence, a silence that lasted for several minutes.

Liao Zikai's hand, holding a half-smoked cigarette, froze in mid-air, a long ash piled up, teetering precariously.

Zhang Jingjiang sat in a wheelchair, his hands gripping the wooden armrests tightly, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

As for Chiang Kai-shek, who had just confidently proclaimed the "traitor" theory, his face turned pale and then red, as if he had been slapped hard in the face in public. He sat frozen in his seat, unable to utter a single word.

If there was no mole in the headquarters, if all of this was based on the calculations made remotely by that young man at the Astor House Hotel.

If this conclusion holds true, the shock it will bring to these revolutionary veterans will be a thousand times more terrifying than the emergence of a traitor.

Zhang Jingjiang suddenly started coughing violently, and this heart-wrenching cough finally broke the deathly silence in the room.

Mr. Chen quickly stepped forward, poured a glass of warm water, and handed it to him.

Zhang Jingjiang pushed away the water glass, exhaled a long breath of stale air from his chest, and his cloudy eyes flashed with an unprecedented sharpness.

"Gentlemen."

Zhang Jingjiang's voice was hoarse, yet it carried a resolute force: "If Guo Fu's account is accurate, if that Lin Tuozhi truly possesses such an ability to know the world's three divisions before even leaving his thatched cottage, then he is not only an industrial tycoon with enormous wealth, but also a modern-day Zhuge Liang capable of strategizing for the country and the world."

Liao Zikai stubbed out the half-burnt cigarette in the ashtray and nodded emphatically.

"Renjie is right, this matter is no small thing. A young man in his early twenties, living in Shanghai, can calculate personnel transfers, psychological games, and even specific flights in the Guangzhou headquarters thousands of miles away with such precision. Such intellect and such vision are nothing short of extraordinary."

Liao Zikai stood up and paced back and forth in the cramped room, his leather shoes making a dull creaking sound on the wooden floor.

"The gentleman values ​​this person highly, and even went so far as to have the three of us secretly come to Shanghai to welcome him. Since he has already figured out our hand and seen through our secrets, if we continue to hide and be suspicious, we will be doing a disservice and losing our composure."

Liao Zikai stopped and turned to look at Zhang Jingjiang in the wheelchair.

"Renjie, this is your territory. In my opinion, why don't we hold a private welcome banquet in your mansion? On the surface, we'll be welcoming him, but secretly, we must meet this living god. I won't feel at ease until I see for myself how his brain works."

Zhang Jingjiang nodded in agreement without hesitation.

"That's exactly what I was thinking. However, Shanghai is now a mixed bag, with spies from various warlord factions and informants from the foreign concession police everywhere. The scale of the banquet should not be expanded. We should focus on our core members, close the doors to other guests, and only talk about romance and business."

Those present all knew perfectly well that what was called a welcome banquet was actually a high-level interview and interrogation.

If they don't find out exactly how Lin Qi calculated all of this face to face, none of the bigwigs in this room will be able to close their eyes and sleep peacefully from now on.

The feeling of being outmatched in both intelligence and information is unbearable for these proud trendsetters of the times.

Having made up their minds, Zhang Jingjiang and Liao Zikai, the two bigwigs, immediately took out pen and ink and jointly signed a gold-embossed visiting card.

The wording was extremely polite and respectful, inviting Dr. Lin Tuozhi to a family dinner at the Zhang residence the following evening.

Before the ink was even dry, Chen Fu accepted the order, took the visiting card, and fled into the vast, rainy night of Shanghai, heading straight for the Astor House Hotel.

……

The old Song family residence in the French Concession.

The fireplace in the living room of the villa was burning brightly, and the finest smokeless silver charcoal emitted an even warmth, dispelling the chill brought by the winter rain.

Song Ziwen pushed open the heavy oak door, his body covered in cold steam and his mind filled with shock, and walked into the foyer in a daze.

Even the movement of taking off his trench coat seemed extremely slow, as if his soul was still lingering in that secret room.

"Brother, what happened? You look so pale."

A clear, yet languid voice came from the second-floor stairwell.

The third young lady, dressed in a comfortable silk robe and carrying a cup of hot milk, slowly walked down the stairs.

She keenly noticed the unusual expression on her elder brother's face.

In her memory, no matter how big the crisis her elder brother faced, he had never shown such a defeated look, as if his energy had been drained.

Song Ziwen handed the trench coat to the maid who came to greet him, walked to the sofa in front of the fireplace, sat down, rubbed his stiff cheeks with his hands, and smiled bitterly.

"It's nothing serious, but tonight, your elder brother and I, along with several senior figures from the South, were given a real lesson. We witnessed what it truly means to be incredibly cunning and strategizing without missing a beat."

The third young lady walked to the side single sofa and sat down, placing the hot milk on the coffee table, her beautiful eyes showing great interest.

"It's that Dr. Lin you mentioned."

Song Ziwen nodded and, without hiding anything, recounted the whole story of the mole incident that occurred in the secret room, as well as Lin Qi's thunderous phone call.

Upon hearing this, ripples stirred once again in Miss Song's previously calm eyes.

She frequented the social circles of celebrities both in China and abroad, and had seen through the self-proclaimed romantic warlord sons as well as the comprador merchants who spoke fluent foreign languages ​​but were actually ruthless and ignorant.

In this era, the rich are often vulgar, the talented are often poor and pedantic, and the powerful are often tyrannical.

But this Dr. Lin, according to my brother's description, has huge sums of money in his hands, is proficient in macroeconomics, and can even manipulate those veteran revolutionaries who have spent most of their lives playing power games.

This kind of young person, who perfectly combines money, power, and exceptional talent, seems out of place in this era.

"Oh, right."

Song Ziwen picked up the hot tea on the table and took a sip, as if remembering something: "Renjie Gong and Liao Gong have made arrangements. Tomorrow night, a private welcome banquet will be held at the mansion for Dr. Lin. It's an internal gathering, and family members are welcome. You studied in the United States; would you like to come and meet this incredibly influential Dr. Lin?"

Miss Song hesitated for almost a moment, a very faint smile curving her lips.

"Of course I'll go."

She not only wanted to go, but also wanted to see what kind of three-headed, six-armed man this was who had driven her older brother to such a state.

The next day, in the evening.

Zhang Jingjiang's Mansion, Huanlong Road, French Concession.

Winter days are short; by six o'clock, it was already completely dark, and bright gas lamps lit up inside and outside the mansion.

The banquet, which welcomed the future biggest financier in the South and the founder of the military industry, was arranged in an extremely low-key and simple manner.

They didn't book a luxury hotel, didn't hire an opera troupe to perform, and didn't even hold a proper round-table banquet.

The entire first-floor lobby was emptied and transformed into a purely Western-style buffet.

The long dining table was covered with a snow-white tablecloth and set with a few exquisite yet ordinary Western pastries, cold cuts, fruit platters, and several bottles of fine French red wine and British whisky.

It's not that Zhang Jingjiang is unwilling to spend money.

It should be noted that Zhang Jingjiang was born in Nanxun.

During the late Qing and Republican periods, a common saying circulated in Jiangnan: "The Liu family has money, the Zhang family has talent, the Pang family has face, and the Gu family has houses."

This is the famous Four Symbols of Nanxun.

The Zhang family is incredibly wealthy; if they really wanted to show off, they could easily book the entire Astor House Hotel and host a month-long banquet.

But Zhang Jingjiang was a pure revolutionary. He sacrificed his family fortune to help the country in times of crisis, pouring most of his wealth into the revolutionary cause in the south.

They usually eat simple meals and live an extremely frugal life.

In today's chaotic world of extravagance and debauchery, this deliberate low profile is actually the highest level of political stance and a display of personal integrity.

Very few guests were invited. Apart from the three special envoys, Liao Zikai, Song Ziwen, and Chang Kaishen, who came specifically to pick them up, the rest were all key contacts planted in Shanghai by the headquarters, totaling no more than a dozen people.

Soothing music from a gramophone filled the hall.

The atmosphere seemed relaxed, but undercurrents were swirling beneath the surface. Although everyone was talking in hushed tones while holding their wine glasses, their eyes kept glancing uncontrollably at the mansion's gate.

The third young lady and her brother arrived early.

Tonight, she specially chose an extremely exquisite dark green velvet cheongsam, paired with a pure white fox fur vest.

It lacks the ostentation of Western dresses, yet perfectly highlights the gentleness of Eastern women and the elegance of socialites.

At this moment, she stood by the Roman column at the edge of the hall, holding a glass of red wine. She seemed to be listening to a woman chatting with her, but in reality, all her attention was focused on the tightly closed teak door.

At 5:50, there were still ten minutes left before the banquet was scheduled to begin.

The sound of a car engine shutting off came from outside the mansion, followed by the doorman's respectful greeting.

The heavy teak doors were slowly pulled open by the waiters from both sides.

Lin Qi stepped into the hall.

There were no bodyguards surrounding them, nor did they put on the cliché of arriving on time or even deliberately being late to show off their status.

Arriving ten minutes early not only gives the host ample face but also demonstrates an absolutely confident sense of time.

Today, Lin Qi wore a pure black haute couture three-piece suit, without any cumbersome accessories that would flaunt his wealth, such as a pocket watch chain or gemstone cufflinks. The tailoring perfectly suited his tall and slender figure.

The moment the person in question appeared, the hall, which had been filled with hushed conversations, fell silent for a moment.

The third young lady's gaze was fixed on the man who walked into the light.

Good looks.

This was her first impression, but immediately afterward, the visual impact of the physical appearance was completely overshadowed by the unique temperament of the other person.

It was an aura that was extremely contradictory yet perfectly harmonious.

On his young face, there was not a trace of the arrogance or restlessness that belonged to his age.

Lin Qi's deep, cold eyes swept across the room. He showed neither the awkwardness of someone new to the circle of high-ranking officials and dignitaries, nor the deliberate arrogance. He was like a king strolling alone in his own backyard, with an absolute sense of control over everything around him.

A mind as deep as a pool and as imposing as a mountain, possessing a wealth of knowledge and refined character.

The third young lady's hand holding the wine glass tightened slightly; her eldest brother hadn't exaggerated.

This kind of temperament is something she has never seen, not only among the uncultured warlords in China, but also among the top financial magnates on the East Coast of the United States, where she studied.

Lin Qi walked straight to Zhang Jingjiang, who was sitting in a wheelchair, and nodded slightly in greeting.

"Sir, I apologize for disturbing you."

His tone was calm, and his attitude was neither humble nor arrogant, completely behaving as an equal.

Zhang Jingjiang, his face beaming with smiles, personally turned his wheelchair to greet him.

"Brother Tuozhi's visit is an honor to my humble abode."

Then, Zhang Jingjiang straightened his back in his wheelchair, picked up a glass of red wine, and delivered a very brief but warm welcome speech on behalf of the Southern Headquarters.

The words implied that Lin Qi was placed on a very high pedestal, explicitly stating that he was a distinguished guest personally entrusted by the master.

After a brief ceremony, the dinner moved into a more substantive free-flowing exchange.

This is also the most crucial psychological battle of the night.

Liao Zikai, Song Ziwen, Chang Kaishen, along with Zhang Jingjiang and Chen Gfu, several core leaders of the Southern camp, held wine glasses and strolled around seemingly casually and naturally, gradually forming a loose encirclement in the center of the hall, surrounding Lin Qi in the middle.

The atmosphere became extremely tense at that moment, with everyone secretly observing and carefully considering their words.

No one wanted to be the first to speak, lest they appear impatient.

Lin Qi stood in the center of the encirclement, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand.

He knew all too well why these historical figures had put on this show tonight.

That phone call last night was enough to give them a heart attack.

Lin Qi didn't wait to be questioned. He was an extremely shrewd old fox who knew that taking the initiative was the key to success at the negotiating table.

I gently swirled the glass in my hand, and the ice cubes struck the glass, making two crisp "clinking" sounds.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a small hammer striking the hearts of those around them.

He raised his head, his gaze sweeping calmly over the faces that would later be vividly depicted in history books, a meaningful smile slowly curving his lips.

"Gentlemen."

His voice was calm and unhurried, conveying a sense of composure and control over the entire situation.

"I've handed in the blueprints, and I've revealed the bottom line of the promissory note. After tonight, we'll be brothers fighting side by side in the same trench."

He raised his glass: "Since we're all family, let's speak frankly and openly. Don't treat me, Lin, like an outsider, and don't beat around the bush."

These words directly and mercilessly pierced through the veil of pretense.

The expressions of the people around him changed slightly; none of them had expected Lin Qi to be so direct.

Among the group, Song Ziwen is closest to Lin Qi in terms of age range and academic background studying abroad, making him the least out of place as the questioner.

He took a deep breath and stared intently into Lin Qi's eyes.

"Brother Tuozhi, since you speak so frankly, then I will also dare to speak frankly."

Song Ziwen took half a step forward, his voice low but his words very pronounced.

"Your late-night phone call last night kept me up all night, and I had a splitting headache. I just can't figure it out."

Song Ziwen paused for a moment, then finally voiced the huge question that had been weighing on his mind all day.

"Brother Tuo, how did you manage to calculate so accurately, as if possessed by a god, that it was I, Liao Gong, and Chiang Kai-shek who secretly came to Shanghai to welcome you, right here in this bustling hotel?"

The question is raised.

The air in the hall seemed to have been sucked out instantly.

The soft music was still playing in the distance, but the people in the encirclement instinctively slowed their breathing.

Several pairs of sharp eyes were fixed on Lin Qi's face like searchlights, trying to capture any trace of panic, hesitation, or fabrication of lies in his micro-expressions.

Not far away, the third young lady gently swirled the red wine in her wine glass, her beautiful eyes darting around, her gaze also fixed on Lin Qi.

She wanted to see how this man, who was so highly regarded by his elder brother, would break free from such a direct and incisive questioning.

Lin Qi did not answer immediately.

Instead, he slowly and deliberately downed the remaining half-mouth of strong liquor in his glass, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

Then, with remarkable ease, he placed the empty glass on the silver tray of a passing waiter.

After doing all this, he turned around and met the anxious yet expectant gazes of Liao Zikai, Song Ziwen, and others.

Under the dazzling crystal chandelier, Lin Qi narrowed his eyes slightly, and the smile on his lips gradually widened, transforming into a confidence that absolutely crushed his opponent on an intellectual level.

He parted his thin lips slightly and uttered three words.

"It's very simple."