The wind from Victoria Harbour blew into the skyscrapers of Central with a salty smell.
The neon lights are dazzling.
The top floor of Jardine Matheson's headquarters was brightly lit.
Like a giant beehive.
Buzzing.
Newbigin stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window.
Looking at the endless stream of car lights below.
Those points of light merged into a river.
Flowing coldly.
He seemed to be standing on the edge of a cliff.
There is an abyss under my feet and the wind is so strong that it makes my back cold.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
His voice was a little dry. Behind him, his right-hand man James was quickly sorting through the documents.
The suit was wrinkled.
His face showed signs of fatigue.
“Released.
Tomorrow's headlines in Hong Kong newspapers.
Hong Kong Land Group distributes dividends at the end of the year.
The stock is worth 10%.
James paused and added: "All the major newspapers have been arranged.
Before the market opens tomorrow.
This news is sure to stimulate the market.
To hedge against those... those rumors."
Hopefully this thing is fragile.
Like bubbles.
This thought flashed through James' mind.
He shook it off immediately.
Can't think about these things.
He had to take action.
"Where's the money?" Newbigin turned around.
The hawk-like eyes stared at him.
“How much did you raise?”
This is the key.
The market opens tomorrow.
The share price of Hutchison Whampoa will inevitably experience a period of bloody fluctuations.
Those unfavorable rumors seemed to have legs.
It spread to every corner of the market overnight.
There is not enough real money to support the market.
Even the best news can't outweigh panic.
James's Adam's apple rolled up and down.
The sound is lower.
"It's in progress. President. I'll go there myself."
He grabbed his coat from the back of the chair.
He hurried out of the CEO's office. The door closed behind him. Newbigin sat back down at his large mahogany desk.
His fingers tapped unconsciously on the smooth tabletop.
Make a tapping sound.
Especially clear in an overly quiet room.
The dividend news is a shot in the arm.
How long can it last?
He doesn't know.
There is a string in my heart that is stretched to its limit.
It may break at any time.
The curtain of night has completely fallen.
The city fell into a strange silence.
Neon is the only noise.
James' figure shuttled between Central, Tsim Sha Tsui and Admiralty.
One after another gorgeous office buildings.
Magnificent bank headquarters.
He held certificates issued by Jardine Matheson, which used top-notch properties and subsidiary shares as collateral.
Find those "old friends" with whom you usually drink and chat and treat each other as brothers.
Those stable partners.
"Repos?" In the office of Hutchison Whampoa's Chief Financial Officer.
The light was pale.
The other person's face was blurred in the smoke. "James. It's not that I don't want to help you.
You know.
The market is not very good now.
Money is tight for everyone.”
He picked up the whiskey on the table and took a sip.
Eyes evasive.
He didn't even look at the mortgage list James handed over. "Besides... the rumors out there are a bit fierce."
James's face gradually darkened.
Of course he knew what was going on outside.
While he was running around.
There is a turbulent undercurrent.
A stronger wave hit.
The market is like a hungry sponge.
Quickly absorbing the new "explosive news". "Hey? Did you hear?
Jardine Matheson speculated in silver futures in London. It lost $200 million!
US dollars!"
A gathering place for retail investors in the stock market.
Someone announced mysteriously based on the news he had just received.
This caused a suppressed exclamation.
“More than just London!
Mining in that damn place in Australia.
Invested 300 million US dollars!
It's all in vain!
Now the mine is tied up in a pile of endless lawsuits.
Pure money burning! "
Another voice added.
Seriously.
"Hey! The latest and greatest!
Do you know why it suddenly became so miserable?
Inside information!
Jardine Matheson's head office can no longer hold on.
The following are the chickens that lay the most golden eggs - Jardine Matheson!
Dairy Farm International! Wharf Holdings! Drained!
In the name of borrowing.
All the cash was withdrawn and used for blood transfusion!
Now these companies look good on the surface.
It’s already empty!”
The news was like a bomb.
Everyone was stunned by the explosion.
Panic spread silently in the night.
Like a plague.
Devouring every bit of trust.
“The current Jardine Matheson.
It's just an empty shell!
From the outside, it still looked like a skyscraper. Then the wind blew. Crack!
It will collapse!"
The last sentence is a summary.
Like a death knell.
These vicious rumors.
Precise and ruthless.
Every point hits the most vital place.
Ferment quickly.
Weaving into a huge web.
The net firmly trapped James who was seeking help late at night.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
The shirt of the vest was soaked.
It's against my skin. It's cold. Every time I lift the phone.
Every time I walk into a new office.
He felt that the net had tightened a little more.
The other person's gaze was no longer as warm as usual.
Instead, it became a scrutiny.
With suspicion.
With caution.
Even, with a hint of gloating pity.
“James.
It's not that I don't remember the old times.
At this point... the risk is too great."
A department head at Jardine Matheson sighed.
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