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

Sister Song glanced at Yu Anfu, who was kneeling on the ground trembling like a leaf, and raised her hand, "Get out."

Yu Anfu didn't even dare to lift his head. He took two steps back, his knees scraping against the mahogany floor. He only dared to stand up when he reached the door, and he even held his breath as he closed the door.

Once the door closed, only the two sisters remained in the study.

The third young lady stood in front of the map, her finger still half-raised.

Sister Song walked over, pulled up a chair and sat down, then pointed to the sofa opposite her.

"Third Sister."

"sit."

The voice wasn't loud, even softer than the one spoken at the door earlier. But the third young lady bent her legs and sat down.

"Mr. Lin is a person..."

Sister Song picked up the lid of the teacup and blew away the jasmine petals floating on the surface: "You can't use the old methods anymore."

The third young lady tilted her head back:

"Big sister! You sent someone back without even saying goodbye, you just stopped it like that, you just transferred them like that..."

"Because he is now a business partner of the Song family."

Without looking up, Sister Song tapped the lid of her teacup against the rim of the cup.

"The most important partner."

The third young lady's anger vanished abruptly.

Partner.

These four words are commonly heard in the Grand Marshal's Mansion.

But the fact that it came from the eldest sister's mouth, and that she said it so confidently, meant something else entirely.

The third young lady has watched her eldest sister do business over the years, dealing with the Qiao and Chang families in money exchange, and is called a "client".

Dealing with those prominent figures in Shanghai is called "networking."

Even those influential figures in the government, such as Liao Zhaikai and Wang Shi, were only addressed as "comrade" or "senior" by the eldest sister.

She had never heard the word "partner" from her older sister even once.

"Eldest sister," the third young lady slowly moved to the edge of the sofa, "what kind of cooperation?"

Sister Song picked up the purple clay teapot from the red clay stove and poured a cup of tea for her younger sister.

"Last month, he spoke with me and Ziwen at the Guangzhou Restaurant."

"I proposed the marriage alliance."

He refused to my face.

The third young lady gripped the covered bowl tightly with her fingers.

"He didn't want power, nor did he want a marriage alliance."

Sister Song picked up her teacup and took a sip: "He wants money."

"They opened a betting platform for me, Wall Street, with a tenfold profit in a year."

The lid of the teacup in the third young lady's hand clattered against the rim of the cup.

"Ten times in a year?"

"Um."

"How much was the principal?"

Two million US dollars.

The third young lady gasped.

"How much will he pay?"

Sister Song put down her teacup, looked up at her, and had a bitter look on her face.

Not a single cent will be paid.

The third young lady was stunned.

"He only uses his brain."

Sister Song leaned back in her chair: "He wrote down on a piece of paper what to buy, at what price, and when to sell it."

"Profits split 50/50."

The third young lady sat up straight on the sofa.

"Fifty-fifty split?"

"He didn't pay a single cent?"

"Taking 50% based on a single piece of paper?"

"Um."

"Big sister!"

The third young lady raised her voice by half an octave: "All the wealth our family has accumulated over the years, you've just......"

Sister Song raised her hand to stop her younger sister from speaking: "That's what I thought too. I lost my temper with him and accused him of trying to get something for nothing."

"He listened."

Sister Song paused for a moment: "Tear up the contract in front of me."

The third young lady opened her mouth.

"I spent all night drafting that contract."

Sister Song chuckled, but the memory still stung: "He tore the paper into pieces in a few quick movements and scattered them on my cheongsam."

"After tearing it up, they told me that contracts are useless these days. What binds us are the soldiers trained at Whampoa Military Academy a year later, and the blast furnaces of the Shijing Factory that smoke day and night."

"He also said that if I dare to go back on my word a year from now, let me try."

The third young lady remained silent.

Sister Song picked up her teacup and took another sip; the tea had gone cold.

"I agree."

"A 50/50 split, verbally."

The third young lady remained silent for a long while before asking the most crucial question:

"So...did he keep his promise?"

Sister Song stood up, took out a stack of papers from her bag, a thick stack of coded telegrams bound with a red ribbon.

She untied the ribbon and pushed the entire stack of manuscripts in front of her younger sister, saying, "Read it yourself."

The third young lady picked up the top one.

The first letter that Kong Fanwei, Kong's uncle, photographed back from New York—

Astonishing. Profit 18% in 72 hours.

The second letter—General Motors' stock price soared to $83 overnight.

The third letter – US steel prices rose 12% in three days.

The fourth report – DuPont Chemicals turned positive intraday for four consecutive trading days.

The bottom sheet is a summary of the settlement statement compiled by Kong Fanwei:

Principal USD 2,300,000

First weekend unrealized profit of USD 470,000

The third young lady crumpled the paper into a crease.

She wasn't ignorant of numbers; she had taken an introductory economics course at Wellesley College, and after returning to China, she would often sit and listen as her elder brother discussed accounts with the family's managers.

Four hundred and seventy thousand dollars.

The Song family was not the incredibly wealthy Song family it would be decades later.

At this point in time, even if the Kong and Song families were to liquidate all their real estate, bank accounts, Shanghai properties, and overseas deposits and convert them into US dollars, they might not have this much.

The principal of 2.3 million was mostly borrowed from Shanxi banks, and interest had to be paid and favors had to be repaid.

The actual capital that belonged to the Kong and Song families was only a few hundred thousand US dollars at most.

Lin Qi simply spoke, and within a week, the wealth of the Kong and Song families doubled.

As my older sister just said, this is just an appetizer.

The third young lady put down the paper, her face flushing and cooling intermittently.

It wasn't for the money.

It's for that man who sits in his office on Cheung Chau Island, using a fountain pen with ink still wet, and treats Wall Street like an abacus.

She had seen countless men since childhood: the sons of warlords, the sons of compradors of foreign firms, elites who had returned from studying abroad, and pens in newspaper offices... each one was more eloquent and more adept at putting on airs than the last.

But no one can so easily treat the world like a sandbox.

The third young lady slowly clenched her fingers on her knees, and that feeling that rose from her very bones—not admiration, but a desire to conquer—burned up once again.

It burned brighter than ever before.

Sister Song sat opposite her, watching her younger sister's expression change several times, but she didn't say anything.

After a while, the third young lady raised her head herself:

"Big sister."

The voice was a bit lower than before.

"I like him."

"I know."

Sister Song sighed.

"Third Sister!"

She reached out and took her younger sister's hand. Usually, those hands, which were as cold as ice, were warm today.

"I understand why you insist on marrying him, eldest sister."