1982 Started from Hong Kong

Chapter 529 Opening Ceremony (Part 2)
13 Negrinnaya Street, Moscow.

Zhai Yuan, wearing a trench coat and with his hands in his pockets, stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Far Eastern Bank's boardroom, overlooking the bustling streets below.

There is still half an hour until the Far Eastern Bank officially opens.

A continuous stream of people had already lined up at the bank entrance, the queue stretching for several blocks, a sea of ​​heads stretching for kilometers.

Even through the thick bulletproof glass, a dense cacophony of noise still managed to penetrate my ears.

"I remember the last time Moscow was this lively was during the opening of McDonald's in Pushkin Square."

Mayor Popov walked to the window, took off his felt hat, and said with a hint of sarcasm, "Mr. Zhai, your bank is busier than our city hall. Citizens would rather queue up here than listen to our reform plans in Red Square."

Fifty-four-year-old Gavril Kharitonovich Popov was slightly overweight, with broad shoulders and a large belly, a typical middle-aged Russian physique. He had a square face, sparse brown-gray hair combed back neatly, high cheekbones, and slightly downturned lips.

Unlike the rough-around-the-edges Orlov, Popov, who was a scholar, spoke fluent London English.

“Mr. Mayor.” Zhai Yuan took the cigar box from Li Zhi, took out a cigar and handed it to Popov, correcting him with a smile, “It’s our bank’s.”

Popov smiled knowingly, took the cigar, and turned to another middle-aged man sitting at the desk, saying, "Edward, perhaps your Ministry of Foreign Affairs should consider awarding Mr. Zhai an Economic Relations Contribution Award in recognition of his contributions, so that he can hang it in the bank lobby tomorrow."

Foreign Minister Edward Shevardnadze raised his eyelids and smiled matter-of-factly, "Of course, if Mr. Zhai needs it."

The three men burst into laughter in the meeting room.

“Although everything seems so wonderful, I must remind you, Mr. Zhai Yuan.”

The one who spoke again was Viktor Halansky, the head of the central bank headquarters who had remained silent throughout.
Compared to Popov's enthusiasm and Shevardnadze's eloquence, this fifty-something financial bureaucrat appeared more professional. He took a sip of the black coffee on the table and slowly said, "The economic situation of the Central Bank, or rather the entire Soviet Union, is not optimistic. No state-owned bank has any liquidity to support it. What we can provide to the Far Eastern Bank next is to tacitly approve it to the greatest extent possible in terms of supervision. As for loans, I'm afraid it will be difficult to provide support."

The atmosphere in the room froze for a moment.
Mayor Popov lit a cigar and looked out the window at the crowds.
Minister Edward stared intently at an oil painting directly in front of him, seemingly trying to decipher its beauty.

After listening to Li Zhi's translation, Zhai Yuan's smile remained unchanged: "Of course, President Victor. The national treasury is empty and there are no loans available. Isn't that precisely the purpose of the Far Eastern Bank? Falsely reporting loans to steal national treasury reserves is something only Citibank and HSBC would do. Our Far Eastern Bank would never voluntarily take a single penny of loan from the Central Bank."

“One sentence to the end!” Zhai Yuan put his arm around Li Zhi’s slender waist and kissed her cheek without restraint. He said with his wealth and arrogance, “Whether it’s five, ten, or twenty years from now, I hope that the Far East will be the best partner in the Soviet Union’s financial sector. My capital is real money to contribute to the Soviet Union’s economic reforms. Then I will take a small portion of the service fee and put it into the pockets of our bank’s shareholders. That’s all.”

Popov and Edward exchanged knowing smiles, and Viktor's brow relaxed as well.

Everyone left room for maneuver in their words, yet each made promises in the current context.

As for how long this commitment can last, it depends on the future direction of the country.

As long as the Far Eastern Bank can stand in Moscow, Zhai Yuan is not hesitant to make any guarantees. When the Far Eastern Bank demonstrates its value, perhaps someone will come and tear up today's promises tomorrow. When the Soviet officials who earn 400 rubles a month suddenly taste the sweetness of power, they will soon spontaneously form an interest group, with the Far Eastern Bank as the center, to create a huge protective umbrella and establish a small circle order.

History has repeatedly shown that what truly unites people is only mutual benefit.
Once a chain of interests is formed, it is more solid than any slogan and lasts longer than any ideology.

"You all really have a lot of leisure time."

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the door, and the burly Orlov pushed the door open and entered. He saw four people, including Zhai Yuan, in the conference room, some standing and some sitting, and grinned, making a half-joking remark.

"Mayor, Minister, Bank President, Orlov from the 4th Tank Division reporting for duty."

Orlov looked around at the three officers in the room, then smiled and nodded at Zhai Yuan: "My men have already escorted the first batch of supplies into the bank. Considering that there are at least 2 citizens gathered at the bank today, we have put in a lot of effort in terms of supplies allocation."

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the street was a dense, dark mass of people.
A dozen military vehicles led the way, and soldiers from the 4th Tank Division, rifles in hand, erected barricades to block the crowd, carrying boxes into the bank for counting.

Orlov pulled a gold watch from his pocket and jingled it: "I'm here specifically to remind you comrades that the citizens are eagerly awaiting the opening ceremony, so don't forget the ribbon-cutting time."

"Of course, we'll go down now."

Zhai Yuan glanced at the three superiors, smiled and said something, then put his arm around Li Zhi and took the lead out of the conference room.

Popov, Edward, and Viktor behind him exchanged a glance.

Popov, puffing on a cigar, said with a smile, "I prefer this sensible young man from Hong Kong to the American financial tycoon, even though they are essentially no different."

“Yes, he knows how to strike a balance.” Edward nodded slightly and stood up from his chair. “American capitalists act like saviors, but he knows when to smile, when to show weakness, and when to stuff money into everyone’s pockets.”

Victor raised an eyebrow: "I must admit, he understands the unspoken rules of local politics better than financial tycoons from Europe and America. Even the Ministry of Culture's propaganda is speaking out for the Far Eastern Bank... But such a person is also very dangerous."

"The edifice of the empire is teetering on the brink of collapse, and perhaps it needs such dangerous people to prop it up. History has repeatedly proven that those who dare to break with convention are often the ones who truly drive change."

Popov exhaled a puff of smoke, glanced at the other two, and said in a low voice, "Apart from Marshal Yazov and the KGB conservative forces, the First Secretary and the First Chairman are committed to promoting the reform of the Soviet economic system. The Far Eastern Bank, like many foreign banks, is an experiment for the country's first attempt... As for whether it will become a victim, I can reveal some information to you in advance: the reformists and radicals will soon join forces to carry out a radical plan to accelerate the transition to a market economy, aiming to link up with the world economic system."

After hearing this, Edward and Victor both showed expressions of being moved.

Orlov, standing to the side, widened his eyes, as if he had heard some incredible news.

"The only problem is that he doesn't belong to any faction, he has no roots in the Soviet Union, and he's not bound by any blood ties."

Popov stepped forward, placed his cigar in the ashtray, and gave a meaningful smile: "Although the trust and convenience we currently give to the Far Eastern Bank may be reassessed at any time in the future, it is clearly not now. So, dear shareholders of the Far Eastern Bank, before the situation worsens, come downstairs for the opening ceremony. The Far Eastern Bank needs our support, and we also need to show the First Secretary and the Chairman our active support for economic reforms..."

...June 20, 1990 (Gregorian calendar)
A red ribbon was hung in front of the Far Eastern Bank, located at No. 13 Negrinaya Street.
In the era of capitalist invasion, ribbon-cutting was no stranger to Soviet officials. As the camera shutter clicked, Zhai Yuan and the Far East Bank shareholders smiled and cut the ribbons in their hands, while fireworks exploded around them.

"In this era of change, opportunities and challenges coexist. Far East is not just a bank, but also a window to the world economy."

Zhai Yuan stood at the bank entrance, microphone in hand, reciting his prepared remarks in his still somewhat broken Russian, giving the Soviet people ample face: "Whether you are an entrepreneur or an ordinary citizen, the Far Eastern Bank hopes to become your reliable partner in the future. This bank is not only for you, but also for the future of Moscow..."

The brief speech ended with a "thank you," followed by applause from the crowd led by Mayor Popov.

As the bank's two glass doors slowly opened...

The Far Eastern Bank of Moscow officially announced the commencement of its business operations.

In an instant, citizens, waving their rubles, surged into the hall like a tidal wave.

This former site of the Moscow Opera House, which could originally accommodate 1700 audience members, was packed to capacity within minutes. Long queues formed at every window, and the rest area was full. A dozen or so White Russian women were specially assigned to maintain order, but they were quickly overwhelmed by the crowd.

"3000 rubles. I don't need black coffee. Please exchange it for bread."

"How much milk powder can I get for 10000 rubles? I need it now."

"I own a tailor shop in Balashiha. Can you offer me a loan?"

Behind the bulletproof glass, Belarusian saleswomen in neat uniforms were extremely busy.
Opening passbooks, registering accounts, verifying ID documents, the sounds of photocopiers and pens scratching paper are incessant. Stacks of rubles are stuffed into the counter window, quickly replaced by deposit slips and exchange vouchers that are withdrawn through the window.

A separate supplies area was set up in the hall, and soldiers of the 4th Tank Division stood ready.
The depositors had barely left the counter window when they hurriedly raised their exchange coupons and squeezed through the crowd to collect their food rations.

Soviet citizens had plenty of money, but not having money to spend and not having consumer goods were two different things. Saving 500 rubles could get you a loaf of black bread. Compared to depositing money in the state bank with low interest rates and zero benefits, everyone knew which choice to make.

"In just one day yesterday."

Viktor looked at the citizens frantically pouring into the banks and said in a complicated tone, "The reserves of major state banks in Moscow have decreased by an average of 7%. Citizens are withdrawing all their money to prepare for depositing it in the Far Eastern Bank in exchange for supplies."

Zhai Yuan was unconvinced by these somewhat resentful remarks.

If your head office can manage the supply chain and benefit the citizens, why would you allow foreign capital to come in and plunder?

However, he still wore a warm smile: "Governor Viktor, the rubles won't leave Moscow. They won't go from the National Bank's vault to the Far Eastern Bank's vault; they'll just be stored in a different place..."

For the next few hours, the noise throughout the bank lobby never stopped.

This lively scene continued until evening, when Orlov mobilized two more batches of supplies to be delivered, but the citizens' enthusiasm still did not subside.

As the Moscow sky gradually turned orange, thousands of depositors still lingered outside the Far Eastern Bank.

But the bank's iron gates had already been slammed shut without mercy, and the staff had hung up a sign announcing that they were off work.

The only minor friction that occurred during the entire work session was when the extremely proud Soviet people reprimanded and questioned the Belarusian saleswomen's smiling service.

The Soviet people couldn't understand why the saleswoman was smiling at them, and therefore thought she was mocking them.

But this was just a minor incident.

"Seventy-three million rubles, I'm rich!"

Inside the bank building, Li Zhi and her team of accountants had already calculated today's business data and quickly compiled it into a spreadsheet, which they then sent to Zhai Yuan.

She excitedly reported to Zhai Yuan, "This is only the preliminary data we have compiled so far; we have not yet verified all the material exchange information."

Zhai Yuan looked at the strings of cold numbers on the form and let out a soft breath.

Immediately afterwards, stacks of rubles were counted and packed into boxes.
Armed soldiers escorted the armored trucks into the rented inner vault of the central bank.

The steel walls on the basement level are half a meter thick, with heavy steel doors, bulletproof walls, and soldiers on duty in shifts. The multiple military-grade door locks have also been replaced with passwords set by Zhai Yuan.

"The security is sufficient, but if someone turns against you, there is still a risk that the vault could be searched and confiscated... Although the probability is very small, we still need to be prepared."

Zhai Yuan watched the armored truck leave through the glass window, clutching the sales bill, thinking to himself, "I need to spend this money as soon as possible."

Far Eastern Bank opened for business on June 20.
On that day, they achieved an impressive record of 73 million rubles in savings, equivalent to over 110 million US dollars or over 920 million Hong Kong dollars.

However, this is just the official exchange rate.

"But then again, being in the Soviet Union, of course we had to anchor the exchange rate to the official rate!"

The staff in the lobby were still continuing their inventory work.
Zhai Yuan strode up to the VIP lounge, casually instructing his secretary, Li, "After serving the retail clients, please invite all the high-net-worth clients who have applied for loans in. State-owned enterprises, oilfields, or land development companies—anyone facing operational difficulties can apply for a loan for working capital. Rubles or US dollars are fine. However, according to market-based lending principles, if they default in the future, Far East Bank has sufficient legitimacy to initiate bankruptcy liquidation against their companies..."

The real harvest has only just begun.

(End of this chapter)