Chapter 436: A War of Words Without Gunpowder
"That's entirely possible," Yang Wendong nodded and said. "That's how business warfare works—stab someone in the back, then take the chance to buy them out."
When there's competition between peers, kicking someone while they're down is as normal as breathing. And for the big financial groups, if they want to acquire you and you refuse, then you can expect trouble.
But Yang Wendong didn't think that was inherently wrong. That's just business. If today's weak grow stronger tomorrow, they'll do the same to others. As long as it's within legal bounds, it's fair game.
One day, when the timing was right, Yang Wendong would go after some of the British-owned companies as well. Why? Because he had his eyes on their valuable assets—simple as that. The only reason he hadn't made a move yet was because the political timing wasn't right.
But that would soon change. In just a few years, relations between mainland China and the West would begin to thaw, and the status of Hong Kong's Chinese community would rise significantly. That would be the moment. Historically, figures like Bao Yugang and Li Ka-shing started challenging British interests in the 1970s—and Yang Wendong planned to be no different.
He Shanheng said, "Then what should we do next, Mr. Yang? If more rumors spread, and the withdrawals increase again, we'll be in real trouble. Right now we're barely hanging on."
"Don't worry. Most of Hong Kong's media is in my hands," Yang Wendong said with confidence. "Leave this to me. What we're about to face is a media war."
Finance and media—both were weapons. If you held the media line, you could protect your financial assets. If not, everything would collapse. If the bank run continued and Hang Seng couldn't maintain liquidity, then the same ending as the historical HSBC acquisition would likely repeat.
That said, Yang Wendong wasn't exactly nervous. Even if HSBC did end up acquiring Hang Seng, he'd still be the largest Chinese shareholder in the new joint company, and he'd certainly hold at least one board seat. But if he could help it, he'd rather keep Hang Seng independent.
For now, all parties involved—British banks like HSBC, Chinese banks like Hang Seng, and even Yang Wendong—were engaged in silent battles, operating in the shadows, following the rules of the game. Everyone knew what was happening, but no one would say it out loud. Even the colonial government couldn't blatantly seize Chinese-owned assets. That left room to maneuver.
"Very well," He Shanheng nodded. "Then I'll trouble you with this task, Mr. Yang. Once this ordeal is over, I'll be sure to thank you properly."
"No need to be so formal. I'm a shareholder now—of course I'll do what I can to help," Yang Wendong said with a smile.
The key to stopping a bank run was surviving about a week. If a bank could make it through those critical days, it would usually recover. This was a lesson learned from countless real-world banking crises in Yang Wendong's past life.
Back at Changxing Tower, Yang Wendong immediately summoned Qi Ruifan from TVB and Qin Zhiye from Changxing Media. "Use every available resource," he ordered. "Get all of our media partners on board—especially newspapers. The goal is simple: stop Hang Seng Bank depositors from withdrawing funds.
Also, send out a message—any Chinese media outlet that dares go against me on this will be dealt with after the crisis."
Freedom of the press was one thing—but he had the freedom to respond. And there were countless legal ways to destroy a small tabloid or minor company. This financial crisis was a showdown between Chinese and British capital. Any Chinese newspaper that took British money now would be branded a traitor. If they sided with the British during this media war, they'd likely oppose Changxing again during future confrontations with British interests.
"Understood. No problem," Qin Zhiye replied.
Yang Wendong continued, "Tell your teams they'll have to put in some overtime for the next few days. It won't be for long. And once this is over, I'll give everyone a big bonus."
He was always generous with small rewards when it mattered. Hang Seng Bank had huge potential. Now that he was an investor, helping it survive the crisis would only benefit him. Compared to that, red envelopes were a trivial cost.
"Thank you, Mr. Yang. It's our duty anyway," Qin Zhiye said with a smile.
Meanwhile, at the Peninsula Hotel in Central, Colonel Sanders sat on the balcony of the presidential suite, looking out over the bustling streets below and contemplating recent events.
"Sir," a blond young man walked over and said, "Most Chinese-owned media outlets in Hong Kong are now promoting the stability of Chinese banks at Yang Wendong's request. It looks like he really intends to save Hang Seng."
"Of course he does. He's a shareholder now—he has no choice," Sanders replied with a frown. "Do we have any media assets here that still answer to us?"
"There are a few, but most Chinese outlets don't want to oppose Yang Wendong," the young man said. "In recent years, Changxing Media has quietly invested in many newspaper companies. He doesn't have outright control, but his influence is significant.
With TVB and Commercial Radio under his umbrella, he controls most of the news channels Chinese citizens rely on. And he's already put out a warning—any newspaper that opposes him will face the consequences later."
"Dominant, isn't he?" Sanders sighed.
"It's very aggressive," the young man nodded. "Mr. Yang is known for his grace and humility in business circles. But this time, he's made a very clear statement, and many outlets are too scared to challenge him."
"The problem is," Sanders said slowly, "he can go public, but we can't. That puts us at a real disadvantage."
Hang Seng might not be in the same league as HSBC yet, but its rapid growth in recent years had definitely set off alarms. HSBC had started to see it as a threat. Normally, there wasn't much they could do—Hong Kong wasn't fully under British control anymore. Even the colonial government had to maintain some sense of balance and fairness toward Chinese business interests.
Finally, an opportunity had appeared. The crisis gave them a chance to move. But now, Yang Wendong had shown up—and with his help, Hang Seng just might survive.
The clash between British and Chinese financial powers wasn't new. This was the nature of a free market. If you won, no one could argue. But HSBC wasn't just a bank—it was practically a semi-official institution. If it openly interfered with the self-rescue efforts of a Chinese bank, the backlash would be massive. Even the colonial government might not be able to contain the political fallout.
The young man nodded. "Yes, Mr. Yang controls half the Chinese media. We still influence the English-language press, but those papers aren't read by Hang Seng's customers. Most British clients keep their money in HSBC or Standard Chartered. In this case, we're irrelevant."
"To think, the Chinese press we always looked down on is what's sabotaging us this time," Sanders muttered.
Even among Hong Kong's elite—many of whom were Chinese—English newspapers were the default source of information. Big decisions were often first published in the English-language press. That's why, despite higher circulation numbers, Chinese outlets were often ignored by British financiers.
But now that multiple Chinese banks were facing runs, this media war had become a critical battlefield for controlling the future of Hong Kong's financial system. British banks had underestimated the influence of local Chinese media—because the panicked masses didn't read English newspapers.
"I do have an idea," the blond man said. "We could take the opposite approach. Spread a rumor that Yang Wendong is secretly guaranteeing all Hang Seng deposits. Then we plant a few large depositors to rush in and withdraw funds…"
"Fifty million Hong Kong dollars may sound like a lot," the blond man said, "but in reality, it won't last long. If Yang Wendong is forced to clarify that he's not guaranteeing Hang Seng's deposits, and we spread just a bit more negative news, it will absolutely trigger another wave of withdrawals."
"That plan could work," Sanders nodded, "but what if Yang Wendong refuses to respond?"
"Then we send in a reporter to press him for comment," the blond man replied. "From what I understand, Yang Wendong won't admit to anything. And once he denies or avoids answering, we're free to shape the narrative however we want."
"Alright, let's try it," Sanders agreed. "But if we go through with this, that media outlet will suffer serious consequences later."
The blond man laughed. "That's not a problem. We can just give them some money and send them out of Hong Kong."
"Fine, let's do it. I'd like to see what happens next," Sanders said coolly.
Two days later, Qin Zhiye knocked on Yang Wendong's office door. "Mr. Yang," he said, "there's a rumor circulating right now—it's all over the streets. People are saying you've personally guaranteed all Hang Seng Bank deposits."
"Guaranteed?" Yang Wendong's brow furrowed. "I've never said anything like that. Can we trace where the rumor started?"
Qin Zhiye shook his head. "Not yet. Too many people are spreading it. It's clearly a fabricated story. Do you want us to issue a formal clarification?"
"No," Yang Wendong said immediately. "If we clarify, it'll only cause more panic. Our enemies might seize the opportunity to strike. As long as we don't publish anything in our own media, let the rumors spread. In fact, if they spread widely enough, it might even work in our favor."
As long as he didn't sign any official document or make any public statement, there would be no legal or financial responsibility for whatever the public believed.
"Understood," Qin Zhiye said. "But I think someone is intentionally pushing this story. The speed it's spreading isn't natural."
"That means someone wants to force my hand," Yang Wendong said, his eyes narrowing. "Someone out there wants Hang Seng Bank to collapse—and they want to drag me into the fallout.
If I clarify the rumor, they'll use that moment to push more negative news, and the panic will escalate. If I do publicly guarantee deposits, they'll use that as justification to attack the Changxing Group itself, hoping to pull us down together."
Qin Zhiye nodded. "Exactly. The Changxing Group holds a lot of valuable assets. Normally, our risk control is rock-solid, so competitors can't touch us. But if we're forced to bear the liability for Hang Seng's deposits, this could become a full-blown business war. Major consortia—even foreign ones—will see it as an opening to destroy both Hang Seng and us."
"Looks like I'll need to go dark for a while," Yang Wendong said with a calm smile. "No interviews, no appearances."
"That's wise, Mr. Yang," Qin Zhiye agreed. "But keep in mind—if the rumor continues unchecked and you stay silent, more people will start believing it's true. That could be dangerous too. If I were the enemy, I'd do everything possible to force you to respond. And no matter what you say, they'll twist it."
"You're right," Yang Wendong admitted. "So what do you suggest?"
"We fight fire with fire," Qin Zhiye said. "We need to release our own rumors—make them sound real. The more contradictory information out there, the more confused the public gets. That confusion is our best defense.
Whether they believe us or not doesn't matter. What matters is making sure they don't believe everything the other side says."
"What kind of rumors?" Yang Wendong asked.
"The core of the issue is whether Hang Seng can survive," Qin Zhiye explained. "So we need to spread stories that support that idea. For instance, we say that even bigger and more powerful investors are about to invest in Hang Seng."
"More powerful than us?" Yang Wendong raised an eyebrow. "Overseas capital?"
To the average Hongkonger, the only entities more powerful than Changxing Group were the big British financial houses. That was public perception—even though Yang Wendong knew the truth: not even Jardines scared him anymore.
But perception was everything now.
Qin Zhiye nodded. "Exactly. We still have good relations with Citibank. Just using their name would be enough. If we spread a rumor that Citibank plans to invest in Hang Seng, that'll calm things down.
The key is that Citibank must not deny it—just like you. As long as they stay silent, we win."
"That's actually a smart plan," Yang Wendong said, nodding. "If Citibank appears to be preparing to inject capital or offer loans, many in high society will believe Hang Seng is saved."
"Right. We don't need them to actually invest. Just cooperate with us—and stay quiet," Qin Zhiye said. "Leave the rest to me. I'll make sure the media pushes the story hard. If it stops the withdrawals, the crisis ends."
"Even for silence, Citibank won't agree easily," Yang Wendong mused. "Fine. I'll talk to Ross and see what he says."
Ross was Citibank's Hong Kong head and one of the few Americans Yang Wendong had a decent relationship with. He was also a known opportunist. If Yang Wendong could offer something worthwhile, Ross would likely agree.
"Good," Qin Zhiye said with a smile. "But until then, Mr. Yang, avoid the public eye. As long as you stay quiet, I can control the narrative and protect Hang Seng."
"Alright," Yang Wendong nodded.
This was a media war now. There were no bombs or gunfire, no massive financial transactions. But whoever won this battle would reap enormous rewards.
That afternoon, Yang Wendong met Ross in the presidential suite of the Four Seasons Hotel. On his own turf, everything could be kept confidential. No reporters would see him, let alone interview him.
After listening to Yang Wendong's pitch, Ross nodded. "I understand, Mr. Yang. But what if we change the game? Why not let Citibank actually acquire Hang Seng Bank?"
"Mr. Ross, that's not an option," Yang Wendong said, shaking his head. "If you want to acquire a bank in Hong Kong, you'll have to look elsewhere."
In truth, many American banks had been eyeing Hong Kong's banking sector for years. But British firms had developed their networks much earlier, and Americans had no chance of competing. And when it came to customer service and local adaptability, they were no match for top-tier Chinese banks either.
So acquisition became their best move. In the original timeline, both Chase Manhattan and other American institutions had fought HSBC for control of Hang Seng. Far East Bank, after the 1965 crisis, had to sell a large chunk of its shares to U.S. investors as well.
Ross smiled. "Then why would Citibank help Hang Seng?"
"It's simple," Yang Wendong said calmly. "If your bank helps now, I'll direct a portion of Changxing Group's international business through Citibank going forward. How's that?"
He was fully aware that helping Hang Seng meant interfering with HSBC's quiet plans to acquire it. And while HSBC couldn't say so openly, they were moving behind the scenes. So if he disrupted those plans, he needed a backup bank.
Standard Chartered was one option, but they lacked the scale. Citibank, on the other hand, was a serious player.
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