Chapter 64

"Go, send someone to collect the black material on Anheuser-Busch InBev. I want everything that can affect their stock price, regardless of the price, understand?" Yang Cheng's grandfather, Liu Muqian, issued a directive upon returning to his residence in Pingdingshan.

"Master, how is the young master?" The assistant, who had been with Liu Muqian for two decades, inquired with concern. To him, Yang Cheng was like a nephew. He had heard about the situation during their journey home and was deeply concerned.

"Oh... Xiaoyun said that there's no life-threatening condition, but the injury is quite serious. She boarded the plane without treatment, and the plane hasn't landed yet. We can only confirm the specifics after a doctor's examination." Liu Muqian wore a pained expression, deeply worried about his grandson's injury.

"The young master is fortunate. As long as there's no life-threatening situation, modern medical technology can ensure his full recovery," the assistant offered comforting words, trying to alleviate the old man's concerns.

Liu Muqian waved his hand. "Don't worry about me. I've experienced many hardships in my time. Go make the arrangements. It's been quiet for too long. Some people seem to have forgotten their Chinese blood."

The assistant, determined to carry out his instructions, declared, "Yes, I'll make the necessary arrangements. Even if we can't eliminate the Lehman family this time, we'll make them pay dearly."

"Wait," Liu Muqian called back the assistant as he turned to leave.

"Master, what else do you need?"

"How's our funding situation?" Liu Muqian, feeling his age and the weight of his responsibilities, couldn't recall some crucial details.

"You can rest assured. All our offshore funds have been transferred to Huifeng Bank. Huifeng Holdings and East West Bank have pledged full support for our actions. The Royal Bank of Scotland has prepared a $1 billion ultra-low interest loan for you. The CEO personally extended his apologies to you."

"That's fine. Royal Bank has been struggling lately, but I've managed to squeeze out $1 billion. I can handle that," Liu Muqian assured.

"All the funds will be credited to our account before the U.S. stock market opens tomorrow morning. If there's nothing else, I'll have someone collect the information," the assistant said.

"Very well. You've done well. Let me rest for a while. If there's any news, wake me up immediately."

Liu Muqian pinched his brows, rubbed his temples with a cooling oil, and walked to his bedroom with his hands behind his back.

The assistant stood there, watching as the father retreated to the bedroom, before leaving the villa with a stern expression.

In Honolulu, the capital of Hawaii, Yang Yuanshan disembarked at Honolulu International Airport. He looked up at the seemingly touchable blue sky and white clouds, as if searching beyond the clouds for the Yuanshan cruise in the stratosphere.

"Lao Yang..." A booming voice brought Yang Yuanshan back to reality.

"Situ..." Yang Yuanshan recognized his old friend, an obstinate man beside a Mercedes-Benz, and greeted him warmly.

The man, Situ, wasn't tall, slightly portly, and smiled like a contented Buddha. His squinted eyes seemed to see through everything. His penetrating gaze swept over Yang Yuanshan before he broke into a long, heartfelt smile. "The old man is still in good health. Come on, let's get in the car. I heard about Xiao Orange. That kid has a charmed life; nothing will happen."

"Why don't you old boy use swords and guns for fortune-telling?" Yang Yuanshan teased his long-time friend, unable to resist a few playful jabs.

Situ bore the surname Situ, from the Hong family of Hong-men.

"What's the matter with fortune-telling? I prefer to call it ongoing learning. You stubborn man, you don't understand anything," Situ responded, appearing to have regained his youthful spirit when he and Yang Yuanshan tackled the world side by side.

Yang Yuanshan quickly grasped his old friend's intentions. The two exchanged pleasantries and launched into deep conversations in the study throughout the night, their conversations a mystery to outsiders.

The following day, Yang Yuanshan boarded a plane to New York. Among the passengers on flights from major U.S. cities to Rio, a considerable number were Chinese. The World Cup finals were taking place, and Rio had become a prime destination for a summer football holiday. However, a group of individuals, closely following developments, was keenly aware that a wave of Chinese figures, who had remained discreet for years, had surfaced. These figures had skirted the edges of darkness, appearing on numerous blacklists over the years. Now, they materialized simultaneously, all bearing the Hong surname – members of Hong-men.

At 270 Park Avenue in New York, a modern skyscraper towered above the city. Despite the late hour, the building's lights still illuminated the night. Passersby could observe employees in uniforms bustling about, clutching thick documents. This building housed one of the world's largest financial service institutions – the corporation's headquarters. Every day, the institution dispatched information with the potential to influence the global economic landscape.

Outside the building, Yang Sen stepped out of a Bentley Mulsanne, standing beside the car. His eyes fixed on the sign as he contemplated his next move. Yang Sen then led Elena and his bodyguards into the building.

Outside the CEO's top-level office, Yang Sen approached the secretary with a stern expression. "Is Jamie inside?"

"Um... Yes, do you have an appointment?" The secretary, somewhat nervous in the presence of this unannounced guest, inquired cautiously.

"Elena, wait here for me," Yang Sen directed his assistant and, bypassing the secretary, opened the office door and entered.

"Hey? Sir, sir, you can't enter without an appointment..." The secretary hurriedly followed Yang Sen, her voice trailing behind.

"Yang?"

CEO Jamie Dimon, hearing footsteps approaching his desk, looked up in surprise.

"Sorry, Jamie, broke in without an appointment." After entering, Yang Sen casually surveyed the office furnishings, which had remained unchanged for years.

Approaching the desk, he stood still and offered a sincere apology, though the stern expression on his face revealed the depth of his remorse.

Jamie Dimon, unwilling to blame him, had already caught wind of the Rio incident. He nodded at the secretary, signaling her to leave, and forced a smile. "It's okay, Yang. How can I assist you? Is it related to your affairs?"

"In fact, there is a small matter where your help could be invaluable."

Yang Sen, straightforward as ever, left Jamie Dimon little room for ambiguity. The latter, accustomed to the Chinese way of circumlocution, coughed slightly, conveying a hint that he'd assist within his means.

"Forum Publishing Company, our negotiations have stretched over half a month. Besides other conditions, the key issue for the owner is the debt burden. No beating around the bush—I propose $80 million plus our responsibility for all debts. Let's expedite the acquisition process," Yang Sen declared.

In need of a public opinion platform for his countermove against Lehman, Yang Sen raised the acquisition cost, believing it could be recouped in due time. The negative publicity against Lehman's companies would bring Forum Publishing Company's newspapers back into the limelight. With increased attention, advertisers would flock to cooperate.

However, Yang Sen recognized this as a temporary solution. The decline of traditional newspaper industries was inevitable. The real transformation lay in new media reforms, a task not for Yang Sen but for Yang Cheng.

Jamie Dimon, arms crossed, naturally sought to raise the price. Even the janitor in the Morgan Building, responsible for cleaning toilets, understood that Janssen needed Forum Publishing Company for a specific purpose. The negotiating initiative had completely shifted to Janssen's side.

However, Jamie Dimon dared not exploit Yang Sen's vulnerability or take advantage of the situation. This caution wasn't fueled by sentiment; it was a reflection of Wall Street dynamics. Despite the rhetoric of "Wall Street has a human affection," brokerages often shifted positions and worked hard to recover losses. This was a cycle of tragedy and renewal, akin to fallow rotations in agriculture.

Why couldn't Jamie Dimon raise the price for Yang Sen? Firstly, there was no room for a starting price. Forum Publishing Company couldn't be expected to sell for $10 billion, with the price later increased to $100 million to save face. It wasn't worth offending Janssen for a mere $20 million.

Secondly, Yuanshan Capital belonged to Wall Street's power structure, where unity to the outside world was an unspoken rule. The Lehman family, ultimately from Brazil, couldn't escape Wall Street's dynamics.

Finally, Lehman had violated the rules, taking the lead in killing another family heir. Regardless of the reasons, it made people uneasy. Would they target another family next time? Big families never lacked the vigilance to remain vigilant!