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

First floor lobby coffee shop.

Chen Gfu, dressed in a simple Zhongshan suit, sat in the corner by the window.

The coffee in front of me had gone completely cold.

He's been under immense pressure lately, with telegrams from Guangzhou demanding payment coming in like snowflakes.

The gentleman placed the heavy responsibility of military supplies and logistics entirely on Zhang Renjie's shoulders, but the foreign firms and warlords in Shanghai colluded to impose a strict arms embargo on the South.

The sudden appearance of these German arms bills of lading on the black market was like a windfall.

Chen Gfu spent an entire day using all his connections and finally found that the source of the leak pointed to the presidential suite on the top floor of the Astor House Hotel.

He took a deep breath, stood up, and walked towards the mahogany reception desk.

"Excuse me. Is Mr. Lin from the penthouse suite in the room?"

Chen Guofu politely asked the British manager.

The British manager sized Chen Guofu up and down.

Although he was wearing a Zhongshan suit, the fabric was ordinary, and he didn't have the air of wealth that a big comprador would have.

The manager took a kraft paper envelope with sealing wax printed on it from the drawer and threw it directly onto the table.

"Mr. Lin has given the instructions."

Following instructions, the manager repeated in broken Chinese: "He's having afternoon tea; there are no errand runners or other idlers around. If you're from the South, take this to the person in charge."

Chen Guofu was stunned, and his face instantly turned bright red.

He was a key figure in the South, yet he was insulted by a complete stranger, an overseas Chinese, who called him a mere errand boy.

A sense of humiliation welled up inside me, and I instinctively wanted to lash out, but reason forcefully suppressed my anger.

The revolution is not yet complete; now is not the time to act out of spite.

Chen gritted his teeth, picked up the envelope. The envelope was thick, and the wax seal exuded the elegance of an old European aristocratic family.

Instead of opening it in the lobby, he quickly walked out of the hotel, got into a rickshaw, and headed straight for the French Concession.

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

The study was filled with the strong smell of Chinese medicine and sandalwood.

Zhang Renjie sits in a wheelchair; he suffers from severe gout and bone tuberculosis, and his legs have long been unable to walk.

Despite being plagued by illness, his eyes were extremely sharp, revealing a revolutionary will that was willing to sacrifice his family for the country and remain steadfast in his commitment.

The desk was covered with ledgers, and several finance staff were frowning as they checked the figures.

"My lord, we're really broke."

An accountant sighed: "The two million rubles promised by Soviet Russia have yet to arrive. Guangzhou is about to advertise for its first batch of students next month. Food, school uniforms, textbooks—everything costs money. Those French trading companies willing to smuggle arms are asking for exorbitant prices; we simply can't fill that hole with what we have."

Zhang Renjie pinched the bridge of his nose, his thin fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his wheelchair.

"I'll figure out the money. If all else fails, I'll sell all my rubber plantations in Southeast Asia."

Zhang Renjie's voice was hoarse, but it was resolute: "Military academies are our future. We'll sell everything we own to get them up and running."

Just then, the study door was pushed open.

Chen Guofu ran in, covered in sweat, his chest heaving violently from running so fast.

"Guofu, what's wrong? Why are you being so reckless?"

Zhang Renjie frowned.

"The outstanding man has been found."

Chen Gfu, panting heavily, strode to the desk and handed over the wax-sealed envelope with both hands: "The rumor on the black market is true. He's staying at the Astor House Hotel. He's extremely extravagant and doesn't respect me at all. This is something he had the hotel manager deliver."

Zhang Renjie took the envelope, and when he saw the exquisite sealing wax on it, he raised an eyebrow slightly.

Tear open the envelope, and two things fell out.

Several documents printed entirely in English, and a copy of a bank letter of credit.

Zhang Renjie picked up the copy first, and after just one glance, his fingers, which were tapping the armrest, suddenly stopped, and his pupils contracted sharply.

HSBC.

The recipient is Lin Tuozhi.

The amount was a total of 150,000 silver dollars.

A young overseas Chinese who had just returned to China could casually show off a cash flow of 150,000 silver dollars, enough to buy half a street in Shanghai.

But this was not enough to make Zhang Renjie, who was used to big occasions, lose his composure. The Zhang family was one of the Four Elephants of Nanxun, with a family fortune of tens of millions. He was just short of money at the moment.

What truly shocked him were those English documents.

The document's heading reads: "A Plan for Self-Sufficiency of Heavy Industry Base and Smokeless Gunpowder in South China".

The content is extremely professional and hardcore.

It not only details the dangers of the South's current extreme reliance on external aid, but also includes a simplified flowchart of ammonia synthesis production.

At the end of the document, the aging equipment problem at the Guangzhou Shijing Arsenal was pointed out without reservation, and a precise renovation budget was provided.

Between the lines, there is an extreme arrogance that regards all the heroes of the world as nothing.

But behind this arrogance lies a solid modern industrial vision and absolute confidence brought by the ocean.

Zhang Renjie's hands trembled slightly.

He suddenly realized that this was not an arms dealer at all.

This is a super tycoon who returned to China with a complete blueprint for a military-industrial complex and a huge amount of money to find a political proxy.

If the South could gain this person's support, let alone a military academy, there would be hope for building a self-sustaining modern army.

"Renjie Gong, is this true?"

Chen Gfu's English is good; after reading the document, he didn't even dare to breathe loudly.

Zhang Renjie closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and countless thoughts flashed through his mind.

The fraudsters could never understand such advanced chemical blueprints, let alone produce genuine HSBC bank documents.

They have the right to be arrogant. If the South cannot show enough sincerity, this dragon crossing the river may turn to the Zhili or Fengtian cliques at any time.

Zhang Renjie suddenly opened his eyes, a sharp light flashing in them like never before.

"Prepare the car."

Zhang Renjie gripped the armrests of the wheelchair tightly with both hands and gave a stern order to Chen Gfu.

"Where to?"

Chen was stunned for a moment.

Astor House Hotel.

Zhang Renjie carefully tucked the documents and receipts into his pocket, his tone leaving no room for argument: "Tell the people below to bring out that famous Song Dynasty painting from the mansion's storeroom. I will personally go to pay my respects at the temple."

Chen was stunned. What was the identity of Zi Renjie?

The elder among the elders, whom the gentleman called "the revolutionary saint" and "Second Brother".

He actually had to condescend to meet a young man of unknown background at a restaurant.

"Renjie Gong, your legs..."

"What do legs matter? As long as I can bring this God of Wealth to Guangzhou, I'll crawl into the Astor House Hotel."

Zhang Renjie's sharp shout echoed in the study.

At the same time, the penthouse suite at the Astor Hotel.

Lin Qi stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a coffee cup, overlooking the ships coming and going on the Huangpu River.

The fish must have taken the bait, and it must have swallowed it whole.

The curtain has officially risen on this power game of frantically embellishing itself and thoroughly consolidating its capital flowing south.

Next, let's see how this world-renowned "sage" gets completely confused by his own logic.