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

A breeze from the river blew in through the wooden lattice window, causing the few remaining tea leaves on the table to swirl around.

After Lin Qi finished saying the words "Northern Expedition to the Central Plains," no one in the private room responded for a long time.

Sister Song was the first to regain her senses.

She sat very steadily, her hands resting on the hem of her cheongsam, straightening the gold thread trim that had been ruffled by the wind, and straightening it again.

When I looked up, the jawline had loosened.

"Ziwen".

She turned to look at her younger brother.

Song Ziwen's glasses were crooked on his nose. He straightened the lenses and nodded emphatically to his older sister.

"Mr. Lin, I believe you."

Sister Song picked up the brass bell on the table and rang it three times.

The steward outside immediately responded, but kept the door half-closed and didn't dare to come in.

"Go and invite Attorney Zhao here. He should be here within half an hour."

The manager withdrew, and the wooden door closed very gently. Only then did Sister Song turn her gaze back to Lin Qi's face.

"I agree to a 50/50 split, and the contract will be revised according to the terms Mr. Lin mentioned today."

She paused for a moment.

"There's one more thing, which I'll add myself."

Interlace your fingers and place them on the edge of the table.

"We've opened up all our connections in Europe and America for Mr. Lin. Boeing, Curtiss, Newport—we've got every single one we can get our hands on. We've also opened up every route for you, from Hong Kong and Haiphong to Macau."

This statement was a significant concession, even more so than Lin Qi had initially anticipated.

Song Ziwen took the pen from the side, unscrewed the ink bottle, and prepared to sign the contract.

He didn't look up, and mumbled something half-truthfully.

"Big sister, this deal is enough to feed our family for generations."

Sister Song smiled, and it was a genuine smile.

"Whether you can finish it or not, put your bet on it first."

She reached out to take the pen her younger brother offered.

Lin Qi stood up.

He walked around the round table and went to Sister Song's side.

Sister Song thought he had come to pick up the contract in person, so she handed him the pen, but before she could even turn her wrist over.

Lin Qi did not take the pen.

He picked up the contract from in front of Sister Song and flipped it over.

"hiss……"

Sister Song's hand, which was handing over the pen, froze in mid-air.

"hiss……"

Another one.

Lin Qi tore the thick contract, which was more than ten pages long, in half, folded it once, and then tore it again.

The paper scraps fell softly, some drifting into the blue-and-white porcelain teacup, some hanging on the rim of the bronze stove, and some sticking to Sister Song's cheongsam knees.

The fountain pen in Song Ziwen's hand fell to the ground with a "thud," the nib poking into a crack in the nanmu wood, the ink spreading into a small black blot.

"Mr. Lin..."

Sister Song opened her mouth, her throat tightened, and she couldn't hold her tongue properly at the end.

Lin Qi walked back to his seat.

Without sitting down, he reached out and took the cup of Pu'er tea that Sister Song had just poured, drank it all in one gulp, and put it back.

boom.

The porcelain base brittle when tapped against the mahogany.

"Madame Kong".

Lin Qi clapped his hands, and scraps of paper fell from his sleeves.

"You and I are both sensible people."

Sister Song sat upright, her face neither red nor white, but her jawline was taut.

"This piece of paper..."

Lin Qi pointed to the mess on the table: "Who do you think this can restrain?"

Sister Song didn't respond.

Lin Qi didn't wait for her to answer.

"This year is the thirteenth year of the Republic of China. The Zhili clique, Fengtian clique, and Anhui clique have changed presidents every six months. Last year, Cao Kun bribed his way into office, and the person above him took the seat. What about next year and the year after? Duan Qirui said he was not allowed to make a comeback. And after that, who knows, the old marshal from Fengtian might even come to live in Zhongnanhai."

He looked at Sister Song and spoke one sentence at a time, without trying to interrupt her.

"That Provisional Constitution—in all your years in business, has anyone ever truly taken it seriously?"

Sister Song's facial muscles twitched slightly.

"In Shanghai, the stack of foreign firm contracts signed by Lu Yongxiang and his son were all nullified the day after Qi Xieyuan entered the city. The non-aggression pact signed between Yan Xishan and Feng Huanzhang in the spring turned into bloodshed in the autumn. Not to mention these big shots, last year in Tianjin, the Ruixing Bank in the concession signed a comprador contract for tea and silk with the Dehua Foreign Firm. The seal had barely dried when the Anhui clique's soldiers confiscated the contract, burned the account books, and used the contract as foot binding cloth."

Lin Qi paused, letting each word settle in Sister Song's mind.

"These days, contracts are for outsiders to see; what truly binds people is something else."

Song Ziwen sat up straight in the chair.

He studied international commercial law at Harvard, and he was more knowledgeable about contract theory than anyone else.

He couldn't find a single fault with Lin Qi's words.

What enabled the Kong Family Shanxi Bank to survive for decades?

It's not a government stamp, but a hard rule in the industry that "once you pay off a debt, you're in debt for life."

"Mr. Lin means..."

Sister Song finally spoke, her voice calm: "The contract is invalid?"

"To be counted."

Lin Qi shook his head: "It's not a matter of whether it counts or not, it's a matter of whether it counts on paper or in practice."

He stepped forward and raised his index finger.

The movement was minor and not particularly rude.

But the fingertip landed only two inches from Sister Song's nose. No one in the Kong and Song families had ever dared to point at her like that before.

Song Ziwen's breathing slowed down slightly.

"We've agreed on a 50/50 split, and that's settled verbally. For me, it's a done deal."

Lin Qi's fingertips did not catch it.

"You can change your mind a year from now."

Slow down your speech.

"Now, with the support of the Kong and Song families, plus the influence of Wang and Hu, they might still have some confidence in controlling me."

"One year later..."

Lin Qi stared at Sister Song: "My fighter jets landed on the Pearl River, and over four hundred 'wolf cubs' from the first phase of the Huangpu Military Academy were armed with new Shijing rifles, their 60mm cannons firing day and night. Now you want to sit down and reason with me, Madam Kong? Tell me, at that time, who held more weight in the concept of reason—you or me?"

The words weren't harsh, but each one struck Sister Song squarely in the chest.