The banquet was held at the estate of a local tycoon, said to be the boss of James, a mysterious old man.
Zhu Wencong paid the carriage fare and saw James at the entrance; he did not have an invitation and needed someone to bring him in.
James gave Zhu Wencong a bear hug, the morning's conversation vivid in his mind—Zhu Wencong was undoubtedly talented.
"Tonight, you just stick with me, and later I will introduce you to a few big shots to meet,
the boss is speaking with the Southern Faction, while we will talk discreetly with the Northern Faction.
After all, I'm working for the boss now; it's not possible to openly go against his wishes and mix with the Northern Faction.
I also have some banker friends that you should be very interested in meeting!" James said straightforwardly.
Zhu Wencong smiled, needing only to enter the upper-class circles to access a wealth of networking resources.
The key to success also lay in these connections—as long as one had enough friends, success was not an issue.
Parties in Europe and America were no different from buffets, with more energy and time spent on chatting.
In the East, people sat down to drink and talk business; in the West, they stood to do the same—there wasn't much difference.
"Westwood Bank, Ibair, the bureaucrat Fiora, they are my old friends!
He is my assistant, Zhu, a very, very smart person!" James introduced Zhu Wencong to the people approaching.
Zhu Wencong shook hands with Ibair and Fiora one by one; they must be from the Northern Faction.
Ibair and Fiora looked at the extremely young Easterner, recalling that Easterners were not usually seen as very smart.
They often wore braids, had vacant looks, and were meek and submissive, hiding away at the first sign of trouble.
Zhu Wencong displayed a confident and proud demeanor, not at all like someone from the East.
"Fiora, you are a federal official, aren't you?" Zhu Wencong asked directly.
Fiora's face showed surprise, and he looked at James, but he shrugged, indicating he hadn't told Zhu Wencong anything.
Ibair looked at Zhu Wencong with admiration; it seemed he knew quite a lot.
"I hear you are very optimistic about us? But looking at the current situation, we don't have much of a chance.
You see, the center of attention is on the Southern Faction; our side is too quiet," Fiora shook his head.
"Most people are just a rabble without their own opinions or thoughts.
On the surface of the battlefield, you indeed seem to be at a disadvantage, with the opponent's military might being too strong.
From an economic standpoint, the Southern Faction has too many disadvantages; they simply can't sustain this war.
Take munitions, for instance, the Southern Faction can only buy them, while the Northern Faction can quickly produce them," Zhu Wencong explained, industry was overpowering agriculture.
Fiora smiled, finally meeting someone wise, unaffected by public opinion.
"We plan to launch a counteroffensive next year, aiming to end this damned war completely by '64.
But machinery needs a huge amount of capital to operate, unlike farm owners, who have many slaves to sacrifice.
The federal government has entrusted us to find investors to raise the funds needed for this war.
We won't let you down, either; the returns on these bonds will be much higher than the market price," Fiora said straightforwardly.
James passed everyone a glass of Lafite; the purpose of the evening's banquet was also to gather sufficient funds for the war.
Issuing so many bonds could not be the responsibility of just the original thirteen states of North America; the states that joined later had to share the debt.
As the saying goes, many hands make light work; by now, America had completed land expansion, population growth, and a steep rise in GDP.
However, the real situation was that wealth was hidden among the people, and the federal government was impoverished; agricultural production values paled in comparison to those of industry.
In 1861, to raise funds for the Civil War, Congress legislated to authorize the Treasury Department to issue 450 million dollars (without coin or gold backing) of non-redeemable "Demand Notes".
From 1862 to 1864, the National Banking Acts allowed banks designated by the states to issue paper money backed by America's public debt, known as National Bank Notes.
"That's the situation! The federal government is poor, the South is also poor, and everyone is actively raising funds.
I hope you can persuade your boss, your friends, to exert effort for our North, after all, we are all capitalists.
Since the foundation of the country, the South has significantly hindered America's development; we've been stagnating all along.
If we want to continue moving forward, to surpass the Anglo-French, we must fully industrialize, but with the South governing, they will not agree!" Ibair explained.
Zhu Wencong quietly sipped on Lafite, while those farm owners, clinging to their few acres, were driving the bankers who lent money around the world to desperation.
As long as the Southern Faction exists, America's railways and bridges simply cannot be built; there isn't the financing environment for it.
James, wearing a helpless expression, saw his boss waving from afar and had no choice but to trot over.
Fiora and Ibair, finding themselves alone with Zhu Wencong, noticed that he did not make any move toward the opposite side.
"I can take on all of your bonds, but I just need a bit of time!
If you can provide help, I can shorten this time and meet your targets.
One is the federal seal, the other is the bank's seal; these things can do many things.
If you have no problem with it, I can definitely help you win this war!" Zhu Wencong said confidently.
The two wore skeptical expressions; Zhu Wencong was so young, yet his confidence was remarkably cunning.
It was inconceivable where Zhu Wencong's confidence came from; this simply wasn't a trait of ordinary people.
"How much do you understand about this war?
James has told me about you, but I want to know more, to understand you more deeply.
Analyze this war for me; based on your analysis, I will provide corresponding help.
The Northern Army is not without a chance of winning, and the Southern Army is not completely useless; we are all anxious."
Zhu Wencong put down his wine glass: "I think your problems are not external, but internal; you are unable to unite as one.
When the Southern Army comes knocking at your door, do you band together? No!
The good news is, the Southern Faction is also not united; their internal disagreements are no fewer than yours.
To win this war, the first step is unity, followed by more unity, and then even more unity.
You just said it—we are all capitalists. When our capital is united, it can destroy anything in this world!
Those farm owners are no match for us; what can their little bit of money do? Nothing at all!"
"Bravo, bravo!" Fiora and Ibair were quite excited; the power of capital was indeed terrifying!
In America, waging war was all about the level of money spent; the government provided the funds, while the civilians gave their lives, so each war had to yield significant profit.
This was a tradition inherited from their English father; in England, every war would have colonies paying the bill.
As for those righteous slogans, Americans did not believe them themselves; after all, they knew what sort of people they were.
If you can win, you fight; if not, you surrender. Work is work, but your life is always your own; you have to be responsible to yourself.
To put it plainly, Europe and America lacked an Eastern Sun Wu; they still adhered to the war etiquette of the Spring and Autumn Period.
Later, when a great demon of the world took the stage, Europe and America finally dropped all pretenses, stopping at nothing for victory.