Republic of China: German-equipped divisions massacred as warlords guarded the nation's borders

May 26, 1925, Shanghai, the secret underground room of Chen Mansion.

This financial warfare room, specially designed by Chen Zijun for Mo Huixin, is located three meters below the Chen Mansion Garden in a concrete bunker. There are no windows, no sunlight, only six imported American incandescent bulbs overhead, illuminating the entire room as if it were daytime.

Mo Huixin sat behind a huge mahogany table in the very center of this secret room.

In front of her were twelve telephones, three telegraph machines, and a thick stack of neatly arranged bank drafts. The table was covered with price quotes and charts from various stock exchanges, the dense numbers crawling like ants across every sheet of paper.

On the wall behind her, several large words were written in white chalk on a blackboard:

Current battlefield funds balance: £5,120,000

"Opponent's remaining funds: approximately 30 million yen (≈3 million pounds sterling)"

Five million versus three million, the advantage is in my hands!

Judging from the numbers alone, Chen's army does indeed have the upper hand.

But Mo Huixin knew all too well that in the futures market, the short sellers had a natural advantage: as long as prices continued to fall, they could profit indefinitely. On the other hand, the long sellers needed to buy physical commodities with real money; every penny was a real expenditure.

In other words, if the Japanese were determined to drive the price down to zero, theoretically they could leverage a much larger amount with three million pounds.

But Mo Huixin wasn't flustered at all.

Because she holds a trump card that the Japanese could never even dream of.

That trump card is called "Unlimited Bullets".

Five million pounds gone? No problem. The young master still has at least a million in reserve. And even if the young master runs out, doesn't the master have his own secret stash?

Even if the Chen family is gone, surely there are still funds in the banks of Zhejiang Province and Shanghai. If necessary, the Chen family army can take full control.

Even if all of that is gone, with the business relationship with the Kurrag family, borrowing three to five million pounds shouldn't be a big problem. At worst, I'll just take a smaller share in the future.

She doesn't need to win; she just needs to hold on. As long as time is on her side, she will never lose.

The Japanese, once their 30 million yen is spent, it's gone. No one will extend their lives.

"Let's begin."

Mo Huixin picked up the receiver of the first telephone.

……

Meanwhile, within the International Settlement, stood the Japanese Consulate in Shanghai.

In the makeshift operations room on the second floor, Hideo Inoue and Shotaro Fujiba were sitting at a large table, with transaction reports that had just been sent back from London and New York laid out in front of them.

"Shotaro-kun, how is the situation?" Inoue Hideo asked, picking up his sake with a relaxed expression.

Fujiba Shotaro adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, a confident smile playing on his lips. "Inoue-kun, the 30 million yen is all in place. We've simultaneously established massive short positions in both the London and New York markets. At the current rate of decline, raw silk prices will completely fall below cost within three days at the latest. At that point, all the silk merchants in Jiangsu and Zhejiang will go bankrupt, and Chen Zijun's economic lifeline will be severed."

"What about that Mo Huixin?" Inoue Hideo asked. "Didn't she step in five million pounds to take over the deal?"

Fujiba Shotaro smiled dismissively: "Five million pounds. In the international market, that amount of money doesn't even make a ripple. Our Mitsui, together with Mitsubishi, Sumitomo, and Yasuda, the four major trading companies, have a short-selling leverage of over 60 million yen in London and New York. Her five million pounds will only last two days at most before we crush it."

"Cheers." Hideo Inoue raised his glass. "A toast to the empire's economic victory."

The two cups touched lightly in mid-air, producing a crisp sound.

However, they hadn't even had time to put their glasses down.

"Bang--!"

The door to the operations room was suddenly pushed open. A Japanese trader, covered in cold sweat, stumbled in, clutching a price quote that had just been torn from the telegraph machine, his face as white as a sheet.

"Fujiba branch manager! Something terrible has happened!"

Fujiba Shotaro's smile froze on his face: "What's wrong?"

"London! Raw silk futures on the London International Commodity Exchange!" The trader's voice trembled. "The price... the price has surged by forty percent in the past hour!"

"What?!"

Fujiba Shotaro suddenly stood up, smashing the sake cup in his hand onto the floor, shattering it into countless pieces.

"Impossible!" He snatched the price list, his eyes practically popping out of their sockets. "We invested 30 million yen short! How could they possibly move it?!"

"The other side...the other side is buying like crazy, regardless of cost!" the trader said in a trembling voice. "The London Stock Exchange reports that a huge amount of unexplained capital is devouring all the sell orders at an alarming rate! No matter how many short orders we place, they're all being bought up without batting an eye!"

"What about New York?!" Shotaro Fujiba grabbed the trader by the collar.

"New York is even more outrageous! There have been massive buy orders for physical delivery in New York, with people directly buying up goods in British pounds! The entire raw silk inventory at the New York Mercantile Exchange was sold out in just half an hour!"

Fujiba Shotaro's face went from pale to ashen, and then from ashen to deathly gray.

British pound cash? A complete sweep of the inventory?

What does this mean? It means that the other party has far more than five million pounds in funds!

"Damn it! Damn it!" Inoue Hideo kicked over the table in front of him, scattering sake and price lists all over the floor. "Where did they get their money from?!"

No one could answer him.

Because the answer to this question far exceeded the knowledge and imagination of everyone present.

……

The secret underground room of the Chen Mansion.

Mo Huixin put down the seventh phone in her hand, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"London rebounded by 40%, and New York spot markets were cleared out." She murmured to herself, her slender fingers lightly tracing the price list. "Next up is the Shanghai local market."

She picked up the eighth phone.

"Hello, Mr. Zhang? This is Mo Huixin. You should have received the young master's message. Now, in the Shanghai trading houses, you, on behalf of the Chen family army, will buy up all the stockpiled goods of the Chinese silk merchants who were pressured to accept lower prices by the Japanese. Yes, the original price. Not a penny less. Let those silk merchants know that the Chen family army doesn't profit from its own people."

After hanging up the phone, she picked up the next one.

"Hello, Hangzhou? Same instructions. Huzhou too. And the agents in Fujian and Jiangxi, get them all moving!"

Twelve telephones rang almost simultaneously. The telegraph machine in the secret room was also frantically spitting out paper tape.

Mo Huixin sat in the middle of this chaotic and noisy place, her face as calm as still water.

She is not waging a financial war.

She's using unlimited ammunition to crush a bunch of self-proclaimed smart fools.

……

Meanwhile, hundreds of kilometers away, at the temporary command post of the Ma'anshan Military Industrial Zone.

Chen Zijun was sitting in the carriage of the special train, watching the numbers jumping on the system panel.

Current available funds: £3,645,800

[Today's Expenditures: Additional funding for the raw silk sector (£260 million)]

[Estimated automatic repayment within 24 hours: £129,600]

More than two million pounds have already been spent, but the system's recovery rate is more than enough to sustain it. More importantly, the money spent has bought real raw silk and silk factories, which are assets in themselves, not just thrown away.

To put it bluntly, he wasn't losing money; he was using pounds that appeared out of thin air to buy up the most valuable industries in the entire Jiangsu and Zhejiang region at rock-bottom prices.

This is the most shameless, despicable, and unsolvable financial war in human history.

Because his opponent is fighting a perpetual money printing machine.

The special train sounded its whistle. Chen Zijun put down his teacup and glanced through the train window at the rapidly receding fields of Jiangnan.

He was completely at ease about Mo Huixin's affairs and didn't need to worry about them at all.

Now, he has something else on his mind.

"Shen Li."

Shen Li, who was sitting opposite him, immediately put down the documents in his hand and straightened his back.

"Young Marshal."

"Are you ready for things in Beiping?"

"Everything is ready." Shen Li's tone was as steady as iron. "A whole company of German-equipped guards will be refitted with MP18 submachine guns and MG34 general-purpose machine guns. The special train has been arranged and will depart first thing tomorrow morning."

"General Feng's people won't release him so easily." Chen Zijun squinted, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest. "After all, Mr. Cao is a former president. He's been under house arrest for more than half a year. If you just take him away like this, the Northwest Army will lose face. The Fengtian clique has now taken control of the central government. With a former president like this, they still have some prestige. If we just take him away like this, neither Marshal Zhang nor that young Marshal Zhang will be willing to accept it."

"Don't worry, young marshal." A cold, hard smile appeared on Shen Li's lips. "If they can't keep up, that's their problem. Our Chen family army's in-laws—anyone who dares to interfere will have to think twice before making a decision."

Chen Zijun didn't say anything more, he just nodded slightly.

The special train's wheels rolled over the rails, making a dull, rhythmic sound as it sped towards Shanghai.

Meanwhile, in the underground chamber in Shanghai, Mo Huixin had already picked up the eleventh telephone.

The Japanese people's 30 million yen is visibly draining away, drop by drop.