Uncle Shazhu, a simple-minded man in a courtyard house, persuades people with reason.

For a whole month, He Ping'an didn't cause George any further trouble, except for a few small gifts. All the talk of psychological warfare and a fatal blow was just an excuse. His real purpose was very straightforward…

They delayed until Liu Rusi gave birth and finished her postpartum confinement.

He Ping'an lived a leisurely life here, accompanied by beautiful women. George, on the other hand, was miserable, going from initial mixed feelings of joy and worry to later anticipation. But a month passed, and no one came looking for him.

George's biggest fear now is not receiving any bombs at home, which would mean the Indians have completely abandoned his supply line. Ha... what a scoundrel!

A month passed, and Liu Rusi was five months pregnant. He Ping'an calculated the time and approached George.

That evening, George and his wife Emma had just returned home from a cocktail party. Slightly tipsy, the couple were completely unaware of the unusual quietness in the villa. Just as their bodyguards were about to raise a warning, a dark figure flashed by, and five bodyguards fell to the ground almost simultaneously.

"Thirty armed veterans—it seems Mr. George isn't planning on returning our million!"

He Ping'an's ghostly voice rang out, startling George and his wife. However, George's eyes revealed a hint of surprise and ambition.

The rest is much simpler... He Ping'an proved that he had the ability to kill the two of them at any time, so the Georges would naturally have to accept the $100 million debt!

"Sir, I'm willing to pay for my nephew's shamelessness, but I can't come up with a million US dollars!" Seeing He Ping'an frown, George quickly added:

"Sir, could you tell me why you went to such great lengths to find my nephew? Of course, if it's convenient..."

He Ping'an looked at George with a half-smile, a hint of murderous intent flickering in his eyes:

"Isn't it enough that little Anderson lied to me? Mr. George wants to do it again?"

"Oh, no, no, no..." George wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and hurriedly explained:

"Sir, that's not what I meant. What I meant was that my good-for-nothing nephew has been living off my protection all along. Perhaps you could try to trust me and let me give it a shot! After all, things can't get any worse than this, can they?"

George spoke kindly, but his heart was bleeding. He genuinely intended to squeeze another sum out of him. His good-for-nothing nephew could get a million; how much would he get? Too bad…

Thinking of the 30-plus bodyguards, George dared not provoke this menacing figure. He even suspected that the man before him could break into the Rockefeller family's security detail!

He Ping'an lowered his head, pretending to think, and after a while, he nodded helplessly:

"Well, it's undeniable that Mr. George is indeed an excellent politician; you've convinced me... there really couldn't be a worse outcome!"

After speaking, He Ping'an took a list from his attendant and slapped it in front of George. He chuckled softly.

"To be honest, we came here specifically for Mr. George, and that million was Mr. George's reward. But that guy Anderson said that he usually takes that kind of money."

"We checked and it's true, so we entrusted the money to him without worry!" He Ping'an clicked his tongue twice. "Didn't expect that? Heh... Mr. George's hired white glove really isn't any good!"

George's face darkened; he hadn't expected such a twist. But then he thought about it again—why would someone as useless as Anderson give him a million dollars?

"That damn Anderson, I was too lenient with him!" George said through gritted teeth, but his expression suddenly tightened when he saw the list. "Sir, these...this..."

Although George stammered, the joy hidden in his eyes didn't escape He Ping'an's notice. He Ping'an initially thought the guy was trying to raise the price, and magnanimously waved his hand.

"As long as the items on the list are successfully loaded onto the ship, I am still willing to pay you the reward that is rightfully yours... one million US dollars!"

George's eyes lit up with even more joy, but his face remained sorrowful. He dusted off the list and continued to play the victim: "But these things are too important; they can even guarantee the rise of a nation."

He Ping'an shook his head noncommittally. He knew the contents of the list better than anyone, and its importance was self-evident. But to say it could make a country rise was pure nonsense.

"Steel, machinery, coal, cement, chemicals, and some small gadgets like rocket launchers—Mr. George, you've overdone it!"

If the "five small industries" could make the country rise, then what would have happened to the century of humiliation and the 14-year War of Resistance?

"But..." George still wanted to play the victim!

He Ping'an looked impatient. "Mr. George, Jesus warned you to be careful and to avoid all greed; for a person's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions!"

"Amen!" George responded with a prayer gesture.

He Ping'an smiled and shook his head. He really wanted to tell the scumbag in front of him that Jesus was illegal in 21st-century America!

"Mr. George, we've already found buyers for this equipment and weapons. All you need to do is ensure our ships sail smoothly out of New Jersey. What do you say, my friend? You won't let me down, will you?"

Faced with the threat, George, though shocked by He Ping'an's power, readily nodded, "Of course, my friend!!"

"Thank you!" He Ping'an nodded in satisfaction. "I hope you can hurry; my time is quite tight!"

"No problem! After all, our country was also colonized!"

George's almost blatant suggestion made He Ping'an's eyes flicker slightly; he seemed to have discovered something significant.

He Ping'an gave a light snort, neither refuting nor admitting anything. The rest, presumably, George, being a clever man, would conjure up a whole drama in his mind.

"Mr. George, it's getting late, so we'll take our leave now! I'm sorry to disturb your and your wife's rest!" He Ping'an gave a gentlemanly bow and led the group away, his steps slightly hurried.

"George, are you sure they're Indian? Don't forget, this guy hired help from Chinatown, and his woman is Chinese too!" Emma reminded him as she watched He Ping'an leave.

George forced a smile and calmly made himself a cup of coffee.

"Yes, aside from what you said, this person speaks and looks very much like a Chinese person. But that is precisely their biggest flaw... The Kuomintang has always believed that it is better to buy than to make these things, especially now that the Kuomintang has lost most of China."

Taking a sip of coffee, George continued, "As for the Communists, they do have that need. But do they have the money? I've studied the Chinese Communists; two million US dollars, not including the cost of equipment. They couldn't afford it even if they sold themselves!"

"Ah...darling, I was overthinking it!"

Born into the Rockefeller family, Emma was quite knowledgeable. She had long heard of the Chinese Communist Party and even found her own worries laughable!