Siheyuan: tomb robbing? I am serious about hunting.

Chapter 942 Loss

This bank, which has experienced a century of wind and rain, is now like a huge ship swaying in the stormy waves, and he, who is only 1911 years old, is about to become the helmsman of this huge ship. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a stale air mixed with the scent of ink and sandalwood hits the face. The accountant, Mr. Zhou, came up with a hunched back, and his wrinkled face was full of worry: "Young Master, there is an urgent letter from the Tianjin branch saying that there is a problem with the redemption of silver bills from the Beiyang Mint, and several money houses are running for our bills." Chen Henian's palms were sweating, and his father's words before his death were still ringing in his ears: "Henian, guarding Rishengchang is to guard the soul of Shanxi merchants." Walking into his father's study, the plaque "Hui Tong Tian Xia" hanging on the wall has faded slightly. Chen Henian used a gilded key to open the carved sandalwood cabinet and took out a yellowed account book. Among the dense numbers, he discovered an astonishing secret - in recent years, the amount of money lent by the bank in Northeast China was unusually huge, and the borrower was the notorious warlord Zhang Zuolin. "Young Master, the Japanese are coming!" The apprentice Xiaoliu rushed in breathlessly. Chen Henian pushed open the window and saw a team of Japanese soldiers wearing helmets riding tall horses, marching through the streets of Pingyao in a show of force. The leading officer pulled the reins in front of the Rishengchang gate, his hawk-like eyes swept across the plaque, and a sneer appeared at the corner of his mouth. That night, a mysterious man knocked on the back door of the bank. The man was wearing a black cloak, and after taking off his hood, it turned out to be Suzuki Toshio, Chen Henian's classmate when he studied in Japan. "Mr. Henian," Suzuki said in fluent Chinese, "The Imperial Bank of Japan is willing to invest in Rishengchang, as long as you are willing to..." Before he finished speaking, Chen Henian slammed the table and stood up: "Don't even think about it! Rishengchang is a Chinese bank and will never cooperate with the Japanese!" However, the situation was more serious than Chen Henian had imagined. The corruption of the Beiyang government made the financial market turbulent, and the squeeze from foreign banks was even more like a mountain pressing down on one's head. Chen Henian decided to go to Shanghai in person to find a new way out. On the Bund by the Huangpu River, he met Shen Jingqiu, a financial talent who had returned from studying abroad. Shen Jingqiu wore pearl earrings, a well-tailored suit and skirt, and her eyes sparkled with wisdom. "Mr. Chen," Shen Jingqiu handed over a plan, "the modern banking system is the future of the bank. We can issue stocks, absorb private capital, and develop new businesses such as savings and credit." Chen Henian flipped through the plan and a glimmer of hope ignited in his heart. But when he proposed cooperation, Shen Jingqiu smiled bitterly: "My father is the leader of the Shanghai Green Gang, and he will not allow me to have anything to do with Shanxi merchants." Returning to Pingyao, Chen Henian discovered that there was a ghost in the ticket house. The account books were tampered with, and the information of important customers disappeared. After a series of investigations, he was shocked to find that it was Lao Zhou who accepted bribes from competitors in order to treat his son. Facing the tearful Lao Zhou, Chen Henian clenched his fists: "Uncle Zhou, you are confused! If Rishengchang falls, what will happen to the livelihoods of thousands of people?" In 1932, the sound of gunfire from the top of Wuchang City broke through the night sky. The wave of revolution quickly swept across the country, and Pingyao City fell into chaos. The Japanese and local warlords took the opportunity to put pressure on Rishengchang to provide them with financial support. Standing in the patio of the ticket house, Chen Henian looked at the flames of war flying all over the sky and made a difficult decision. He summoned all the employees and took out all the gold and silver treasures accumulated over the years: "Brothers, Rishengchang may not be saved, but we can't let this money fall into the hands of thieves. I plan to use this money to support the revolutionaries. Even if I die, I must die with dignity!" The employees knelt down and shouted in unison: "I am willing to follow the young master through fire and water!" On a dark and windy night, Chen Henian met with Shen Jingqiu secretly. Shen Jingqiu brought the Qing Gang's boats to help them transfer assets. Before leaving, Shen Jingqiu stuffed a jade ring into his hand: "This is what my mother left for me. It's our token of love. After the war, I'll wait for you to come back." In the days that followed, Chen Henian hid his identity and traveled to major cities, secretly providing financial support for the revolutionaries. His hair gradually turned gray, and the wrinkles on his face became deeper and deeper, but his belief in protecting the banknote exchange and revitalizing China never wavered. Many years later, when Chen Henian returned to Pingyao again, the door of Rishengchang had long been closed, and the plaque was covered with thick dust. He stroked the mottled brick wall, as if he could hear the sound of abacus in the banknote exchange. Suddenly, a familiar footstep came from behind. Shen Jingqiu stood in the sunset, smiled and stretched out her hand to him: "Henian, the new China has been founded, and our dream is finally going to come true." Chen Henian held her hand, tears streaming down his face. In the distance, a new bank building was rising from the ground, and the story of Rishengchang was forever left in the long river of history, becoming an immortal legend. On the Qingming Festival in , the drizzle was like silk, soaking the city of Suzhou into an ink painting. Su Mingyuan knelt under the wisteria trellis in the Humble Administrator's Garden, the plain white kite in her hand trembling slightly, and her father's name was written on the bamboo frame with cinnabar. Three months ago, her father died tragically under the whip of the gendarmerie for refusing to draw a map of the Jiangnan waterway for the Japanese. The unfinished "Gusu Prosperous Picture" is still hanging on the wall of the studio, and the ink has not dried yet. "Mingyuan!" A crisp shout broke the silence. The girl next door, Tao, ran over holding an oil-paper umbrella, her skirt stained with mud. "Oh no, the Japanese are checking the ferry again. I heard they are looking for some confidential drawings!" Su Mingyuan stood up suddenly, and the spool of the kite hurt her palm. Her father's words before his death were still ringing in her ears: "Yuan'er, guarding that picture is to guard the soul of Jiangnan." She stuffed the kite into the depths of the vines, lifted the hem of her skirt embroidered with lotus flowers, and ran towards her old house. Pushing open the carved wooden door, a half-cup of cold Biluochun was placed on the sandalwood table in the front hall. Su Mingyuan held her breath and walked lightly to her father's studio. The moonlight poured in through the window lattice, casting mottled shadows on "Gusu Prosperous Picture". The winding waterways and the rows of merchant ships in the painting seemed to tell the rise and fall of Jiangnan. Suddenly, there was a faint sound of footsteps behind her. Su Mingyuan picked up the paper cutter on the desk, but when she turned around, she met a pair of warm eyes. The man was wearing a navy blue gown, holding the kite she had left behind, with a faint smile on his face: "Ms. Su's craftsmanship is superb. The crane on the kite seems to be about to break through the rain and fly into the sky." "Who are you?" Su Mingyuan's blade trembled slightly, "Why did you break into a private house?" "Gu Yunzhou," the man handed over his business card, "a researcher at the Academia Sinica, I came to Suzhou this time to find the lost Jiangnan Water Conservancy Map." He glanced at the "Prosperous Map of Suzhou" on the wall, "Mr. Su's paintings must contain many secrets." Before he finished speaking, a dog barked outside the door. Gu Yunzhou's face changed, and he quickly pulled Su Mingyuan behind the screen.