That afternoon, Lin Baicheng went to Standard Chartered Bank.
His first task was straightforward—transfer the funds he'd brought back from the U.S. into the corporate accounts of Galaxy Games and Baisheng Securities. Once that was done, he called Ho Yiu-wah, Standard Chartered's Hong Kong director, and invited him to have afternoon tea at The Peninsula Hotel.
Ho accepted the invitation without hesitation.
The Peninsula, located in the heart of Tsim Sha Tsui on the Kowloon Peninsula, was Hong Kong's oldest and most luxurious hotel, famous for its sweeping view of Victoria Harbour.
In both his lifetimes combined, this was actually Lin's first visit to such a lavish place. But now, as a billionaire, he felt no trace of nervousness.
The two men sat by the window, the best seats in the house, gazing out at the glittering bay as they chatted over tea.
"Mr. Lin," Ho began casually, "a few days ago, the Wharf stock saw massive trading volume. You must have noticed it."
He spoke with a hint of curiosity. The timing was suspicious—right after Lin had inquired about Standard Chartered's stance toward British-owned firms being acquired, Wharf's stock had exploded with activity. It was hard not to connect the dots.
Lin smiled lightly. "Of course I know. In fact, I was one of the participants."
He chuckled, half-truthfully. "I started buying Wharf shares early on. But once I realized someone else was also after it, I approached your bank for funding. Unfortunately, the other side's capital was too strong. In the end, they bought up most of the shares I held."
Ho laughed. "Even so, I'm sure you made quite a profit, didn't you?"
"Just a small gain," Lin said modestly. Neither man pressed further. In Hong Kong's business world, some things were better left unsaid—quiet profits were the best kind.
After a few more pleasantries, Lin leaned slightly forward. "Mr. Ho, I'd like to ask for a favor. Or rather, for Standard Chartered's assistance."
"Of course, Mr. Lin," Ho replied smoothly. He already regretted turning Lin down the last time. If he refused again, Standard Chartered risked losing such a lucrative client altogether.
Lin continued, "As you know, Hong Kong currently has three television stations—Rediffusion Television (Lai's TV), Commercial Television (CTV), and TVB. I want to acquire Rediffusion Television."
Ho raised his eyebrows slightly, intrigued.
"I understand that Rediffusion Television is a subsidiary of Rediffusion Sound, Ltd. in the U.K.," Lin went on. "I'd like to commission your bank to approach Rediffusion Sound and purchase their Hong Kong television subsidiary on my behalf."
Ho thought for a moment, then nodded. "That shouldn't be a problem. I'll have to check whether they're willing to sell, but as long as Rediffusion Sound is open to negotiations, it shouldn't be difficult to arrange."
Then, with bankerly caution, he added, "However, Mr. Lin, if they have no plans to divest, there's not much we can do."
That was acceptable to Lin. He smiled. "That's fine. Even if they're not looking to sell right now, please keep in contact with them. When they do consider it, I'd like to be notified immediately."
Lin remembered clearly from his past life that Rediffusion Sound sold Rediffusion Television in the early 1980s to an Australian consortium. That meant the company wasn't a sacred cow—it was always a potential sale, given the right price.
After all, a TV station wasn't irreplaceable. Everything was just a matter of numbers.
There were two reasons Lin wanted a media company. One, entertainment was hugely profitable. Two—and more importantly—media was power.
He wanted that influence in his hands.
Ho smiled approvingly. "That won't be an issue. We can handle that."
"Also," Lin added, "I'd appreciate it if you could evaluate Rediffusion Television's worth. I'm prepared to offer a reasonable premium to acquire their shares."
Ho nodded, pleased by Lin's directness. "If you're willing to pay a premium, I'm confident the deal will go much smoother. Rediffusion Sound is, after all, in it for profit."
It was true—sentiment rarely outweighed profit, especially for a British corporate board. With enough money on the table, everything was negotiable.
"Then I'll leave it in your hands, Mr. Ho." Lin raised his teacup politely in gratitude.
Ho returned the gesture with a smile. "You're too kind, Mr. Lin. Always a pleasure to work with you."
He meant it. Lin's growing wealth made him a client worth keeping close.
Two days passed.
Without Lin and Li Ka-shing's buying pressure, Wharf's stock had slumped. The price drifted downward while trading volume shrank dramatically. The frenzied activity of last week was gone—investors had moved on.
Lin only kept an eye on the situation. As long as no one else was accumulating shares, he wasn't concerned.
By the second day, there was still no update from Standard Chartered about Rediffusion. However, An Yuan brought him a detailed report on Hong Kong's gold trading market.
Hong Kong, it turned out, had carved out a unique role in global gold trading. Because of the time zone, it perfectly bridged the gap between the closing of the New York and Chicago markets and the opening of London's, creating a seamless 24-hour global cycle.
This geographical advantage had attracted heavy hitters—the five major London bullion dealers and three top Swiss banks had all set up branches in Hong Kong.
However, there was a catch. The city didn't yet have a gold futures market—only spot trading existed, divided between two systems:
The Hong Kong Gold and Silver Exchange, which priced in HK dollars per tael and operated through open outcry among mostly Chinese members;
And the Hong Kong-London Gold Market, a spot system created in 1974 when the government reopened gold trading. Transactions were settled in London and cleared in New York within two business days.
Both were spot markets, not the futures Lin wanted.
What Lin needed was leverage—the ability to control a large position with relatively little capital. Spot trading couldn't provide that.
So, upon hearing the report, Lin made up his mind immediately.
"If there's no gold futures trading here," he said, "then I'll go back to the U.S. to do it. I can use Goldman Sachs or Morgan Stanley to set up leveraged positions."
His eyes gleamed. The game was just beginning.