Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The Hongqi sedan drove out of the red wall, headed west along Chang'an Avenue, and then turned into a familiar alley.

Nanluoguxiang.

The place remained as gray and drab as ever, with snow piled up at the base of the walls, blackened by coal smoke. A cold wind swirled withered leaves and trash through the narrow passageway.

Shen Jinghong did not specifically ask the driver to stop the car.

He simply leaned back in the warm, comfortable leather seat, looking through the one-way black glass like a superior passerby, giving one last look at the place that had imprisoned his soul for two lifetimes.

The car slowed down.

A crowd had gathered on the roadside ahead, watching the spectacle.

Beside that familiar garbage heap, a hunched figure was kneeling on the ground.

It was an old man with a full head of white hair and tattered clothes. He was holding an iron hook and struggling to eat from the pile of frozen coal ash. His hands, which he used to beat and scold his children, were now swollen and cracked like carrots.

It's Shen Dayong.

Not far from him, a disheveled, crazy woman was running around the street, waving her arms and legs wildly.

She was wearing a tattered floral cotton-padded jacket with holes in it, the cotton batting sticking out. Her face was streaked with black and white, making her look particularly eerie.

"I am a noblewoman! You all must kowtow to me!"

Liu Cuihua brandished a broken tree branch, screaming at passersby, her eyes glazed over with madness.

"My eldest son is a high-ranking official! He's a bureau chief! My second son went to the front lines and became a hero! When they come back, they'll arrest you all! They'll all be executed!"

"Pah! You crazy woman!"

An elderly woman with bound feet passing by spat in disgust, "A high-ranking official, huh? Everyone knows your second son is a convict! You've ruined your eldest son's family!"

"Exactly, that's karma! Serves him right!"

The neighbors pointed and whispered, their eyes filled with nothing but schadenfreude and glee, devoid of any sympathy.

Shen Jinghong watched this scene unfold.

Looking at my once arrogant and shrewd mother, now reduced to this despicable state; looking at my proud father, fighting with stray dogs for food over a few pieces of coal.

Surprisingly, I felt no emotion whatsoever.

Even the thrill of revenge had faded, leaving only a sense of indifference, like looking at roadside weeds.

This is the consequence of their desire for benevolence.

The car continued to glide forward, passing the main gate of courtyard number 95.

Yi Zhonghai was carrying a bag of cornmeal, walking back with his neck hunched.

When he saw the shiny black Hongqi sedan with its special license plate, he was stunned, frozen in place as if struck by lightning.

He recognized the car.

That night, it was this car that picked up Shen Jinghong, and it was also the guard company that came with this car that shattered his prestige as a senior citizen.

"It's...it's him..."

Yi Zhonghai's lips trembled, and the bag of cornmeal in his hand fell to the ground with a "thud," raising a cloud of white dust.

He instinctively wanted to kneel down, but his legs were as weak as noodles. The fear etched into his bones made him lack even the courage to look up at the car window.

It wasn't just him.

At the entrance of the courtyard, Liu Haizhong, who was emptying the chamber pot, and Yan Bugui, who was calculating the coal briquettes, both looked like mice seeing a cat when they saw the vehicle, wishing they could find a crack in the ground to crawl into immediately.

They're scared.

They were afraid that Shen Jinghong was still angry, and that the young bureau chief might suddenly roll down the car window and casually say, "Investigate them," which could bring them to ruin.

The entire alley fell into a deathly silence the moment the car passed by.

Only Liu Cuihua was still singing an unknown little tune in the distance, acting crazy.

inside the car.

Shen Jinghong withdrew her gaze.

That look in his eyes was indifferent and distant, as if he had just seen not his former neighbors and parents, but a group of ants who had nothing to do with him.

"Chief, should we...?"

Chen Weiguo turned around from the passenger seat, a hint of ruthlessness in his eyes, and made a cutting gesture.

"Need not."

Shen Jinghong shook her head and gently pressed the window up/down button.

"Buzz—"

The last remaining gap was also sealed tightly, completely isolating it from the cold and noise outside, as well as the nauseating stench of decay.

"They have already been punished."

Shen Jinghong's voice was calm, almost cold:

"To suffer while alive is worse than to die."

"and……"

He straightened his cuffs and turned his gaze to the wide road ahead:

"I'm very busy right now, busy building airplanes, busy developing missiles, busy wrestling with the Americans."

"These people are no longer worthy of my attention."

"Let's go, don't keep Qinghan waiting."

"yes!"

Chen Weiguo stepped on the gas.

The Hongqi sedan let out a deep roar and accelerated away from the alley filled with old memories, like a black blade severing the last ties between Shen Jinghong and the past.

From then on, the sky was high and the sea was wide.

Ten minutes later.

The car came to a smooth stop outside the south gate of Beihai Park.

This is the imperial garden of Beijing, with red walls and yellow tiles, and rippling blue waters. Even in winter, it exudes an air of elegance and grandeur.

sunset.

The golden afterglow spilled onto the frozen lake, refracting a dazzling light.

Under the big willow tree at the park entrance.

A figure wearing a beige cashmere coat stood there quietly.

The cold wind tousled her long hair, but it couldn't dispel her cool yet gentle aura. Her hands were in her coat pockets, and a bright red scarf was wrapped around her neck, as vibrant as a flame, illuminating the bleak winter day.

Lin Qinghan.

She seemed to have been waiting for a while; the tip of her nose was slightly red from the cold, but her eyes, hidden behind her glasses, remained fixed on the direction of the intersection.

When I saw that familiar Hongqi car appear.

Her eyes suddenly lit up, and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly, revealing a smile that could make the surrounding scenery pale in comparison.

"Squeak."

Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Shen Jinghong had already pushed open the car door and jumped out.

He strode over, his black trench coat billowing in the wind.

"Are you cold?"

Shen Jinghong walked up to her, and very naturally reached out to hold her somewhat cold hand, breathing warm air on it.

"It's not cold."

Lin Qinghan shook her head, then gripped his hand tightly in return, her smile both gentle and mischievous:

"I was thinking about a formula for ballistic correction, and I got so engrossed that I forgot I was cold."

"You..."

Shen Jinghong smiled helplessly and reached out to flick her nose:

"What a nerd. Thinking about formulas on a date?"

"So what are you thinking about?"

Lin Qinghan tilted her head to look at him. "Missed you?"

Shen Jinghong's heart skipped a beat.

Looking at the woman in front of him, who was highly intelligent but had low emotional intelligence, yet could always make his heart flutter with a single sentence, he felt that all the luck in his life had been used up in meeting her.

"Let's go."

Shen Jinghong put her hand into his coat pocket and pulled her towards the park:

"I don't want to think about formulas or missiles today."

"Today, let's only talk about romance."