I Am Building an Intelligence Empire in the United States

Chinatown, San Francisco, 1888. The Chinese Exclusion Act is pending, and the Chinese are not even worthy of testifying. Chen Mo was reborn as a hunted Chinese laborer, penniless and hanging by a thread. But he remembered: at six o'clock tomorrow morning, Pacific Cruise Line will win the right to transport gold mines in Alaska, and the stock price will triple in two hours; the gold veins in the Klondike have not yet been exposed; the Morgan consortium is still laying out the railway... In this life, he will not work as a coolie or sign a contract of betrayal. Starting from the accounting room of a casino, he stirred up Wall Street with a telegram and leveraged the undercurrent of capital with a map. He weaves an intelligence network, creates a life-and-death situation, and quietly changes all the cards on the white man's card table. When enemies sneer: "The Chinese only deserve to live on their knees." He shot back: "Then you'd better not let me stand up." Years later, the New York Times published an obituary: "The mysterious financier Chen Mo passed away. He was not listed on the rich list, but he controlled transoceanic routes, banks and gold mines." The accompanying picture shows him standing in front of the ruins of Chinatown when he was young, holding a blood-stained copper coin in his hand. This is not a counterattack, this is a reckoning.