Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The water in Victoria Harbour was murky, carrying a strong smell of diesel fuel and fish, but this smell was much more pleasant to Shen Jinghong than the perfume-scented air in New York.

"call--"

He leaned on the railing, took a deep breath of the moist air, and looked at the layered Western-style buildings on Victoria Peak and the dense wooden houses at the foot of the mountain. A long-lost sense of relaxation flashed in his eyes.

"The air at home is still the best for you. Even though the Union Jack is still flying over this place, the warmth and life here will never change."

Lin Qinghan stood beside him, tightly clutching the leather suitcase that she never let go of, but her expression was not so relaxed.

She frowned slightly as she looked at the group of foreign police superintendents in dark green uniforms, carrying batons, and the rows of plainclothes officers whose eyes darted around like wolves.

"Don't get too excited. Look down there, those are marine police and special police officers from the Hong Kong British government. They've been watching this ship for a long time."

Following her gaze, a checkpoint had been set up at the exit of the dock.

Every Chinese person who disembarked had their luggage roughly searched. Books were thrown on the ground and trampled on, and anything of slightly value was stolen. Anyone who resisted was struck with a police baton.

"These British bastards, do they think this is their backyard?"

Shen Jinghong sneered, straightened the trench coat he had worn on the ship for several days, and adjusted his signature gold-rimmed glasses. "Let's go, Miss Lin. Now that we're on someone else's turf, we should at least meet these watchdogs."

The two followed the flow of people down the gangway.

The moment they landed, before they could even savor the feeling of their feet firmly on the ground, two burly Indian policemen with menacing faces blocked their path, brandishing rattan canes.

"Stop! Open the box!"

Following behind was a British police superintendent, a pipe dangling from his mouth, who glanced contemptuously at the suitcase in Lin Qinghan's arms, his greedy gaze like that of someone looking at a fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered.

"Don't you understand the rules here? To prevent contraband from entering, all large luggage must be impounded and inspected. Come back in three days to collect it!"

three days?

Three days later, the F-86 blueprints in that box would probably have already flown to London.

Lin Qinghan subconsciously took half a step back, and her body instantly bristled with thorns.

Shen Jinghong stepped in front of her, a cryptic smile on his face, and said in fluent London accent:

"Sir, you need a search warrant to seize our luggage, right? We are law-abiding citizens, protected by international law."

"international law?"

The British police superintendent, as if he'd heard a joke, walked over and blew a smoke ring in Shen Jinghong's face. "Here, I am the law! Leave the suitcase here, and get out!"

As he spoke, he reached out to snatch Lin Qinghan's suitcase.

Plainclothes officers surrounded them, their hands on their sidearms, and the atmosphere instantly became tense.

Just as Shen Jinghong narrowed his eyes, preparing to use the Thompson submachine gun in his system space to teach these robbers a lesson.

"drop--!!!"

A sudden, piercing car horn blared, startling the British police superintendent so much that he nearly dropped his pipe.

Everyone turned to look.

As the crowd outside the dock parted like a tide, a convoy of three black cars, like a black blade, rudely pierced into the chaotic dock.

Leading the way was a Rolls-Royce with a prominent license plate, its sterling silver "Spirit of Ecstasy" hood gleaming in the sunlight, highlighting the owner's unshakeable status in this colony.

The car door opened.

A middle-aged man in a long robe, looking vigorous, stepped down. He held a string of Buddhist prayer beads in his hand, his face refined, but his eyes exuded an imposing and authoritative aura.

Behind him followed a dozen or so muscular and capable bodyguards dressed in black short-sleeved shirts, clearly trained in martial arts.

"Mr. Huo...?"

The arrogant British police superintendent's face instantly changed, as if he had swallowed a fly. His once straight back slumped. "You...you came to the docks in person?"

Mr. Huo didn't even glance at him.

He walked straight up to Shen Jinghong, looked him up and down, then gave him a gentle and friendly smile, his voice loud enough for everyone around to hear:

"My dear nephew Jinghong! I'm so sorry to have startled you! Your grandmother has been talking about you for days. Why did it take you so long to arrive?"

Nephew?

Lin Qinghan was taken aback for a moment, then turned to look at Shen Jinghong. When did this guy become a relative of the Huo family?

Shen Jinghong reacted quickly, her face instantly beaming with the joy of seeing a relative, and she seized the opportunity:

"Uncle Huo! I miss you too! We were delayed by some storms on the way."

Mr. Huo laughed heartily, then turned and gave the British police superintendent a cold glance:

"Superintendent Smith, this is my own nephew. What, are you going to confiscate even a relative of the Huo family?"

"It's a misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding!"

Superintendent Smith was sweating profusely. In Hong Kong, the Fok family not only controlled the shipping industry but was also a powerful tycoon with influence in both the legitimate and underworld circles. Offending the Fok family for the sake of two international students was clearly not a worthwhile trade-off.

"Since they're Mr. Huo's people, of course they're exempt from inspection! Exempt from inspection!"

Smith wiped his sweat and waved for his men to let him through, looking as obsequious as could be.

"Thank you very much."

Mr. Huo said something indifferently, and with a wave of his hand, the bodyguards immediately stepped forward, took the box from Lin Qinghan's hand (Lin Qinghan held on tightly until Shen Jinghong gave her a look), and escorted the two into the car.

Amidst the envious and awe-inspiring gazes of the crowd, the convoy sped away, leaving behind a pile of dusty police officers.

Inside the car, the noise outside was kept at bay.

Mr. Huo's smile faded slightly, replaced by an expression of appreciation and respect for the younger generation.

"Mr. Shen, Mr. Qian said in his previous telegram that you were a genius. Meeting you today, I can confirm that you are indeed exceptionally courageous."

"You flatter me, Mr. Huo."

Shen Jinghong dropped the pretense and regained his composure. "I must thank Elder Huo for saving me this time. Otherwise, I might have really caused quite a stir at the docks."

"It's what I should do for the country."

Mr. Huo waved his hand. "I've already arranged the absolutely secure warehouse you wanted. It's a private warehouse at Kwai Chung Wharf, and no one knows about it except my trusted confidants."

Thank you.

Shen Jinghong nodded. He needed that warehouse not to store things, but to "unload" some of the mountain of supplies piled up in his system space as a gift to the country and as capital for cooperating with the Huo family.

Half an hour later, the convoy drove into a secluded warehouse area.

The massive iron gate slowly closed, completely cutting off any outside prying eyes.

The warehouse was empty, with only a few dim yellow chandeliers.

"Mr. Huo, could you give me half an hour?"

Shen Jinghong glanced at the empty space. "I have some 'special' goods that need some time to be transported through special channels."

Although Mr. Huo was puzzled, he was a smart man and knew that there were some things he shouldn't ask.

"Okay, I'll wait for you outside."

Mr. Huo and his bodyguards withdrew.

However, as he turned around, his brows furrowed slightly, and he muttered a complaint to his assistant beside him: "Is there still no progress on that shipment of penicillin destined for the mainland? The shipping schedule is too chaotic; no matter how I calculate it, it doesn't match up."

Lin Qinghan, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke.

"Mr. Huo, if you don't mind, could you show me the shipping timetable?"

She adjusted her glasses and glanced at the documents in Mr. Huo's hand. "If I heard correctly, you're calculating the optimal loading path? This is actually a typical linear programming problem."

Mr. Huo was taken aback and subconsciously handed over the document.

Lin Qinghan took the pen and, without using any scratch paper, quickly wrote a few lines of equations on the back of the document. Less than a minute later, she handed the document back.

"According to this plan, we will first take Route B and then transfer the cargo in international waters. Although it will take ten nautical miles around, it will avoid the patrol team and increase efficiency by 20%."

Mr. Huo stared at the brilliant calculation result, his eyes widening, until finally he slapped his thigh:

"Amazing! Miss Lin solved this problem that had been bothering us for three days with just a few strokes of her pen?"

His gaze towards Shen Jinghong intensified: "Mr. Shen, your female companion is also a national treasure!"

Shen Jinghong smiled but did not explain. He simply turned and walked into the depths of the empty warehouse.

"System, wake up, get to work!"

He mentally shouted.

As thoughts surged, the system space gate opened wide.

The air in the once empty warehouse began to distort.

[Beep! Supplies being released...]

Boxes of US dollars, gold bars, canned goods, medicines, and even several brand-new machine tools smuggled from the US military warehouse appeared out of thin air as if by magic, instantly filling half the warehouse.

Looking at the mountain of wealth, Shen Jinghong clapped his hands in satisfaction.

This is just the tip of the iceberg.

But that was enough to make the Huo family wholeheartedly help him get the rest done.

Twenty minutes later, Shen Jinghong walked out of the warehouse.

"Old Huo, I have accomplished my mission; everything is inside."

Mr. Huo peeked inside, and even though he was used to seeing all sorts of things, he couldn't help but gasp in shock.

These aren't just international students; they're practically walking gods of wealth!

Just as everyone was preparing to leave.

Suddenly, a piercing roar of a motorcycle came from the alleyway outside the warehouse.

Seven or eight heavy motorcycles blocked the way in the middle of the road. A group of thugs with tattooed arms, carrying iron bars and machetes, jumped off the motorcycles and surrounded them menacingly.

The leader was a foreigner with long blond hair and wearing a leather jacket.

He was chewing gum and toying with a butterfly knife in his hand. His emerald green eyes revealed a greedy and cruel look as he stared intently at Shen Jinghong, who had just come out, past the crowd.

"Hey, that yellow-skinned monkey who does magic tricks."

The foreigner, speaking broken Cantonese, pointed the knife at Shen Jinghong's nose, his face contorted in a sinister grin.

"I heard you won quite a few things from my cousin Rose on the ship? Let me introduce myself, my name is George."

"Shall we go all out today?"