Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The sky grew completely dark.

In the central courtyard of the siheyuan, the dim street lamp was stretched out long, like a cloudy eyeball, coldly watching the group of excited people.

A peeling octagonal table was placed in the center, resembling a courtroom from the old society.

Behind the table sat the three "retired emperors" of this courtyard.

An old man named Yi Zhonghai sat in the middle, holding an enamel teacup in his hand, with a sanctimonious expression on his face.

Uncle Liu Haizhong, with his potbelly, stood with his hands behind his back, exuding an air of officialdom.

Uncle Yan Bugui, the third uncle, adjusted his glasses, his shrewd little eyes darting around in the crowd, a small notebook in his hand, probably keeping some kind of account.

The area was surrounded by onlookers, with sunflower seed shells scattered all over the ground and the buzzing chatter sounding like a swarm of flies having a meeting.

The person being "judged"—Shen Jinghong—was sitting alone in the eye of the storm on a tattered bench that had been dragged from somewhere.

Yi Zhonghai cleared his throat, and that cough was like a starting gun, instantly silencing the noisy courtyard.

"Ahem! Everyone, please be quiet!"

He put down his teacup, his gaze sweeping across the room with an authoritative air, finally settling on Shen Jinghong. His tone was somber, carrying a hint of disappointment and frustration:

"Today's hospital-wide meeting is about the Shen family's affairs."

"Our institution has always been an advanced collective, emphasizing respect for the elderly and care for the young, as well as brotherly love and respect. But today, something disheartening has happened in our institution!"

Yi Zhonghai pointed to Shen Dayong and his wife, who were standing beside him with long faces, then pointed to Shen Jinghong, and his voice suddenly rose:

"Jinghong, you're a PhD who studied abroad; you should be more enlightened than us roughnecks. How could you do such an unfilial thing?"

"Your parents raised you with great difficulty and sent you to school. Was it easy for you? Now that you've become successful, you've grown up and returned to China as a cadre, and you're ignoring your poor relatives?"

The hat was worn on the head, and it was big and round.

The neighbors immediately began to whisper among themselves, their pointing and whispering gazes piercing Shen Jinghong like needles.

"Yeah, they're so heartless."

"I heard he's living the high life in America, and he didn't even leave a trace when he came back home."

"This kind of person has wasted all their education!"

Seeing that the time was right, Second Uncle Liu Haizhong, with his protruding belly, also spoke up, using an official tone:

"Um... I'd like to say a few words too."

"This young man, making mistakes isn't terrible, what's terrible is not correcting them! Comrade Jinghong, you need to recognize your mistakes. Your younger brother Yaozu is unemployed and wants to get married; they're a family in need. As the eldest brother, you're a beneficiary; you must have a broader perspective!"

"Giving up your cadre position is a test from the organization! It's also an opportunity for you to give back to your family! How can you keep making excuses?"

Not to be outdone, Uncle Yan Bugui, the third uncle, started calculating the accounts rapidly:

"Jinghong, this is how you should look at it. You gave up your job and your house; although you lost out a bit, your whole family survived! That's called 'suffering a loss is a blessing'! Besides, your little bit of US dollars will just depreciate if you keep it; you might as well take it out and give it to everyone... oh no, to help your brother buy some household items. That's called rational resource allocation!"

The three old men each had a role: one played the good cop, one played the bad cop, and one was in charge of keeping accounts.

The coordination was so seamless, and the logical loop was practically flawless.

In short: what's yours is your brother's, and if you don't give it to him, you're committing a heinous crime.

The Shen family members stood aside, listening with great interest.

Zhao Yanzi crossed her arms, chin held high, a smug look on her face saying, "Let's see if you die."

Shen Yaozu became even more arrogant, making a face at Shen Jinghong and mouthing, "Idiot."

Liu Cuihua was still wiping away her tears, sobbing as she complained, "I had no other hope but for the two brothers to get along. Who knew that the eldest brother would change his mind as soon as he came back, looking down on us for being poor..."

This performance of singing, recitation, acting, and martial arts stirred up the emotions of the entire troupe.

Those bystanders who were unaware of the truth were now filled with righteous indignation, wishing they could come up and point their fingers at Shen Jinghong and curse him.

"Shen Jinghong! Say something!"

"Don't play dumb! This old man is asking you a question!"

"Apologize to your parents right now! Hand over the house!"

The shouts grew louder and louder, almost drowning Shen Jinghong in their spittle.

However, Shen Jinghong, who was at the center of the storm, remained silent.

He didn't even lift his eyelids.

He crossed his legs, leaned back leisurely in his chair, and was slowly cracking open a handful of sunflower seeds he had just taken from Uncle San's table.

"Click."

The sunflower seed shells cracked open with a crisp sound.

"puff."

He casually spat the sunflower seed shells on the ground, which landed right next to Yi Zhonghai's pair of cloth shoes with multi-layered soles.

He was like an outsider watching a play, observing the group jumping around on stage, making a complete fool of themselves. His nonchalant attitude was the greatest insult to this so-called "all-college assembly."

Yi Zhonghai's face turned green.

He's been a big shot in this courtyard for so many years, when has he ever been ignored like this?

"Shen Jinghong!"

Yi Zhonghai slammed his hand on the table, making the teacup lid bounce around. "What kind of attitude is this?! We're talking about serious business! You're still eating sunflower seeds? Have you lost your conscience?"

"Exactly! This is outrageous!"

Liu Haizhong was trembling with anger. "Disrespectful to elders! Lawless! This kind of person should be sent to a labor camp!"

"Speak! Stop playing dead!"

Taking advantage of his superior numbers, Shen Yaozu picked up a clod of dirt and threw it at them, yelling, "What are you pretending to be, acting all high and mighty!"

The clod of earth missed its target and landed at Shen Jinghong's feet, shattering into pieces.

Shen Jinghong finally stopped eating sunflower seeds.

He patted the crumbs off his hands, slowly took out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his mouth, and then looked up.

Those eyes, which were originally calm and undisturbed, now resembled two unsheathed sharp blades, gleaming with a chilling light that sent shivers down one's spine.

His gaze slowly swept over Yi Zhonghai's face, which had turned a deep purplish-red, then over the trembling fat in his bangs, and over Yan Bugui's calculating little eyes.

Finally, the gaze fell upon the greedy, twisted faces of the Shen family.

The entire room fell silent for no apparent reason.

The few people who were shouting the loudest just now felt a chill run down their spines after being swept over by this gaze, and subconsciously shut their mouths.

The feeling was like having a sleeping tiger staring at your throat.

Shen Jinghong stood up.

He was very tall, and although he was thin, his upright posture, which came from his very bones, made him stand out from the crowd at that moment.

He straightened the hem of his trench coat, and a dazzling smile suddenly bloomed on his face, a smile that carried three parts mockery and seven parts murderous intent.

"Are you done talking?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly penetrated everyone's ears, like an undercurrent surging beneath a calm sea:

"Gentlemen, neighbors, you've been watching the show for ages, your voices must be hoarse from shouting, right?"

He took a step forward, forcing Zhao Yanzi in front of him to instinctively take a step back.

"Now that you've all finished your performances..."

Shen Jinghong glanced around, the smile in her eyes instantly freezing, her voice turning abruptly cold:

"Now, it's my turn to speak."