That evening, Lin Baicheng arrived at Baisheng Securities.
"Mr. Lin, today we managed to buy only 800,000 Hutchison Whampoa shares from the market. It cost nearly HKD 6 million," An Yuan reported.
Cheng Yufeng followed:
"Mr. Lin, Manager An said that this afternoon several other parties also started buying Hutchison Whampoa shares. They only bought—never sold—and the volume was significant. It's very likely a large-capital player."
Lin Baicheng nodded.
"What did Hutchison Whampoa close at today?"
"HKD 7.45," An Yuan answered."Up more than 4%. The other side didn't push the price too aggressively. Looks like they also want to accumulate slowly."
Lin Baicheng shook his head.
"I don't know who's buying, but if one person knows, there'll be a second. And once more people find out, the share price will shoot up. Slowly acquiring shares does me no good anymore."
He couldn't determine who leaked the information—his own side, Bao Yugang's side, or HSBC's side.Everyone involved in the deal had incentives to leak:
If someone learned ahead of time that Lin would soon launch a major acquisition, they could secretly stock up and wait for the takeover battle. When the price surged, they would make a fortune.
This kind of quick massive profit? Anyone would be tempted.
Which meant anyone could have leaked it.There was no way to trace it—no point trying.
What mattered was how to respond.
Cheng Yufeng said:
"Mr. Lin, I think it's time to execute the plan."
"Alright. Go ahead."
Lin Baicheng agreed without hesitation—they had anticipated this scenario even before negotiating with HSBC, and prepared a contingency plan.
"Yes, Mr. Lin."
Cheng Yufeng left to make the arrangements.
That night, during Asia Television (ATV)'s prime-time drama slot, the broadcast was suddenly interrupted for breaking news.
Lin Baicheng had purchased 90 million shares of Hutchison Whampoa from HSBC at HKD 7.15 per share, and acquired additional shares from the open market.He now held 102 million shares—25.5% ownership—making him the largest shareholder.
The broadcast continued:
Starting tomorrow, Lin Baicheng would buy up to 60 million more shares at HKD 9 per share.He would buy exactly 60 million—no more.
Because this aired during ATV's prime-time slot, the news spread instantly across Hong Kong.
Roderick Weir (韦理), Hutchison Whampoa's Deputy Chairman and Managing Director, only learned of the news after subordinates rushed to inform him—he didn't watch television.
The moment he heard that the company's largest shareholder had changed, his face turned dark.
HSBC had sold all its shares quietly, without informing Hutchison Whampoa's management.And management only found out from a news report on a TV station owned by their new largest shareholder.
Weir wanted to demand answers from HSBC's Shen Zhou, but the deal was already completed—it was too late.He immediately contacted London.
He reached out to the Keswick family, the long-time controllers of Hutchison before the crisis.Henry Keswick had been forced out of Hutchison International in 1975 and returned to London. His health began deteriorating last year, and all his children were now in London caring for him.
No Keswick family members remained in Hong Kong.
Fortunately, since Hong Kong was seven hours ahead of London, contacting them during Hong Kong's evening still meant catching them in the daytime.
However, although Weir made contact, the Keswick family did not provide an immediate response—they merely told him to wait.
Weir instantly understood:
"The Keswick family intends to give up control of Hutchison Whampoa."
He knew why:Henry Keswick's health was failing, and his sons were already fighting over inheritance.None of them wanted to pour massive capital into defending control of Hutchison Whampoa.
Weir exhaled slowly.
"I need to look out for myself as well."
He immediately called his staff and ordered a management meeting for the next morning.
Neither the public nor Hong Kong's elite families expected that Lin Baicheng had accumulated such a massive stake—enough to potentially take over a major British trading house.
This could become the first English-dominated Hong Kong conglomerate to fall under Chinese control.
By the next morning, every major newspaper reported the story.
However, aside from a few exceptions, most newspapers were pessimistic.They criticized Lin as too young—lucky enough to make big money, yes, but lacking the ability to manage a corporation worth HKD 3 billion.
Many predicted that HKD 9 per share might become Hutchison Whampoa's peak price, implying the company's future development under Lin would only worsen.
Only a handful of newspapers framed the acquisition as a "historic moment of Chinese capital challenging British firms."
But the dominant narrative remained doubt and disapproval.
That morning, Hong Kong's four major stock exchanges were packed.Hutchison Whampoa was the hottest topic in the city.
Baisheng Securities dispatched a large team.Their task: buy Hutchison Whampoa shares at HKD 9 per share.
A separate group was assigned to record the number of shares acquired every five minutes and publicly announce the count.
Back then, stock trading involved face-to-face human negotiation, not computer systems.If too many people tried to sell at once, chaos could erupt.
To avoid this, the four exchanges set aside a special area for Baisheng Securities and assigned dedicated traders to handle all Hutchison Whampoa transactions for the day.
This arrangement ensured faster settlement—and prevented disorder.