True liquidity is not about Uniswap/depth of order books, nor digital balances within wallets, but the ability to instantly and losslessly transfer purchasing power from point A to point B in the world without SWIFT system approval.
In the world of Web3, we are accustomed to discussing TPS and scaling solutions. But off-chain, in that gray area forgotten by the SWIFT system, the true “scaling” was completed a hundred years ago. This article peels back the glamorous algorithmic veneer of DeFi and turns our gaze to the real backbone supporting the global circulation of crypto assets—the final settlement layer composed of kinship, clans, and underground contracts.
This article will discuss how the ancient network known as “Qiaopi” parasitized, devoured, and ultimately formed the real Layer 0 of modern crypto finance.
Who would have thought that this shadow liquidity, spanning thousands of years, would embrace blockchain at this moment?
Chapter 1: Ghost in the Machine? Or in the Tea Money?
1.1 The Invisible Hand and Disappearing Counterparties
Modern crypto analysts love to talk about “liquidity,” as if it were a quantifiable DeFi metric like TVL. That’s naive. True liquidity is the ability to instantly transfer purchasing power from point A to point B without SWIFT system approval.
When you see USDT premiums suddenly spike on OTC markets, or at midnight find the seemingly bottomless buy walls suddenly retreat, it’s not market sentiment changing, but the “parents” of Shantou underground banks deciding to rest.
This is an anecdote about “shadow liquidity”—how the ancient network called “Qiaopi” parasitized, devoured, and ultimately dominated the modern crypto settlement layer.
We must understand: Shantou underground banks are not the rough bandits seen in police dramas carrying cash boxes. They are financial architects who solved the “Double Flower Problem” a thousand years before Nakamoto. They don’t need blockchain to establish consensus because they have “trust”—a social consensus mechanism more refined and tamper-proof than SHA-256.
1.2 The Signal of “Tea Money” in the Macro Fog
When you see a KOL on Twitter shouting “Bull Market is here,” it’s worth checking the current “tea money” in a teahouse in Luohu, Shenzhen.
In underground bank slang, “tea money” is not just a commission for intermediaries; it’s also the “pressure index” of global capital controls. When “tea money” rises from 0.3% to 2%, it indicates that underground channels are tightening, regulators’ hounds are closing in, or more likely—some super whale is draining liquidity through this channel.
Such micro signals often foreshadow market crashes a week before Bloomberg Terminal news. If you don’t understand how to interpret “tea money” fluctuations, you don’t deserve to talk about Alpha in crypto.
Chapter 2: The Source Code of Ancestors (Layer 0)
2.1 Qiaopi: The Earliest Decentralized Ledger
180 years before the Bitcoin white paper, the people of Chaoshan had already invented their Layer 0 protocol: Qiaopi.
To understand how a Chaoshan “stacked code” can transfer 50 million USDT from Macau to Las Vegas in the blink of an eye, we must first understand that yellowed paper. Qiaopi, literally “Overseas Chinese Letter,” was actually the most efficient “silver and letter” system in human history.
In 19th-century Nanyang, thousands of Chaoshan coolies needed to send money home. Official postal systems were slow and greedy. So, water carriers emerged. In crypto terms, these were the earliest “nodes.” They traveled between Singapore, Thailand, and Chaoshan clan villages, carrying not just letters and silver dollars but the livelihood of entire clans.
In this network, there was no centralized server—only “Piju”—the predecessor of today’s OTC desks. Piju handled remittances and information. They packaged hundreds of letters into a “general bundle,” similar to Ethereum’s Rollup, reducing transmission costs through batch processing.
2.2 The Credit Consensus Mechanism
Why can a water carrier, a stranger, carry millions of dollars across pirate-infested straits without fleeing with the money?
Western economists call it “Repeated Game,” but Chaoshan people call it “trust.” It’s more than commercial reputation; it’s a clan social contract. In Chaoshan villages, everyone’s identity is anchored in the ancestral hall’s genealogy. If a water carrier dares to swallow even a penny of Qiaopi, he might physically escape, but socially he faces “social death”—expulsion from the clan, exhumation of ancestors’ graves, and his descendants barred from marriage.
This is a more expensive consensus mechanism than PoW: Family Proof (Proof of Family). Your collateral isn’t 32 ETH but your entire family’s reputation spanning hundreds of years in Chaoshan plains. Thanks to this high cost of default, the Qiaopi network achieved an astonishing 99.99% uptime, never interrupted even during WWII.
2.3 The Alchemy of Flying Money
Over time, water carriers realized that running around with heavy silver dollars was foolish. They reinvented the Tang Dynasty’s “Flying Money” technology—modern banking’s “countertrade.”
The elegance of this mechanism lies in its “non-movement.”
Imagine:
Node A (Singapore): Boss Li wants to send 1,000 taels of silver to Chaoshan. He hands the silver to the Singapore Piju.
Node B (Chaoshan): The Singapore Piju writes a letter of credit to the Chaoshan counterpart.
Settlement: The Chaoshan Piju directly takes 1,000 taels from their vault and gives it to Boss Li’s family.
In this process, no silver crosses the South China Sea. The silver stays in Singapore, and the payment is made in Chaoshan. This not only avoids pirate risks but also separates physical fund movement from value transfer.
This is the underlying logic of all cross-border crypto payments today. When we say USDT transfer, the token on chain moves, but the underlying dollar collateral still rests in Tether’s custodial bank (or so we hope). Chaoshan underground banks mastered this game 150 years ago, and modern crypto finance is just putting a cyberpunk coat on this ancient mechanism.
Chapter 3: The Alchemy of Settlement
3.1 The Structure of the Mirror Network
Today’s Chaoshan underground bank network is a distributed system composed of thousands of loosely coupled nodes. It has no CEO, no headquarters, only countless mirror-image bookkeeping offices.
Suppose you are a private equity tycoon in Shanghai, wanting to convert 200 million RMB into USD to buy a house in Vancouver. You wouldn’t queue at Bank of China; you’d go to your “cousin.”
You transfer 200 million RMB in batches into dozens of domestic personal bank accounts provided by your “old buddy.” These accounts are called “front accounts,” usually controlled by a fleet—these are IDs bought from remote rural areas or bank info sold by naive college students for a few hundred yuan.
Once the RMB arrives, the Shanghai “old buddy” sends a signal via Telegram or Signal to his counterparty in Vancouver. The signal might be a code string or a torn half of a banknote photo.
The Vancouver counterparty, upon receiving the signal, transfers the equivalent USD (minus “tea money”) directly into your lawyer’s trust account in Canada, or more directly, hands you a gym bag full of cash.
In this process, funds do not cross borders. RMB stays in Shanghai, entering the underground bank’s fund pool; USD remains in Vancouver, flowing out from offshore fund pools.
3.2 The Art of Settlement and the Shadow of Fentanyl
Here’s a classic inventory problem: if Vancouver’s counterparty keeps paying in USD, and Shanghai’s “old buddy” keeps collecting RMB, eventually Vancouver’s USD will run out, and Shanghai’s RMB will accumulate. How to resolve this “inventory imbalance”?
Traditional SWIFT relies on central bank settlement. Underground banks use “goods” to settle—Trade-Based Money Laundering (TBML).
In the darkest corners, this settlement loop is tightly intertwined with the global drug trade.
Let’s introduce a third player: the Sinaloa Cartel.
The cartel in the US and Canada holds大量美元现金 (drug proceeds), but they need to launder and transfer this money back to Mexico or buy Chinese precursors to produce fentanyl.
Chinese tycoons hold RMB and want USD.
Underground banks act as intermediaries, executing the sinister “Sinaloa swap”:
Rich guy’s RMB goes to Chinese chemical factories, paying for cartel’s chemicals.
Cartel’s USD cash is handed over to the rich guy’s agents in North America.
Chemicals are shipped to Mexico, turned into drugs, sold in the US, generating new USD.
It’s a perfect closed loop. No funds cross borders, yet capital escapes, drugs are procured, and dirty money is laundered—all in one cycle. That’s why US DEA and Chinese police, even working together, find it hard to cut this network because it’s not a line but an ecosystem.
3.3 The Ununderstandable “Tea Money” of Algorithms
In this ecosystem, “tea money” (spread/exchange rate difference) is not just profit; it’s risk pricing. The core of this pricing—the difference between underground and official exchange rates—is the country’s real “Credit Default Swap” (CDS) price of its fiat currency.
If the official rate is 7.1, and underground banks’ rate is 7.4, the 300 basis points spread includes:
Regulatory risk premium: probability of account freeze (“freeze card”).
Liquidity premium: scarcity of offshore USD.
Trust premium: no KYC costs.
Before the “10.11” crash, sensitive underground banks sharply increased “tea money.” They sensed regulatory winds or that a huge buyer (perhaps a recently liquidated whale) had drained the offshore USD liquidity pool. When “tea money” surges, it indicates fiat channels are blocked, crypto buying power is exhausted, and a crash is imminent.
Chapter 4: Digital Variants
4.1 TRC-20: The Poor Man’s SWIFT
If Qiaopi is Layer 0, and underground countertrade is Layer 1, then USDT is the most successful DApp running on this system (especially USDT on Tron).
Ask any old hand in crypto why they prefer Tron over Ethereum for transfers, and they’ll say: cheap, fast. But ask a Chaoshan underground bank operator, and they’ll give you a deeper answer: Ethereum is too expensive, Bitcoin too slow, Base and BNB too centralized, Solana too easy to trace…
For the “fleet” handling thousands of small transfers daily, low Gas fees and chain-tracking obfuscation are key. More importantly, Asian exchanges (Huobi, Binance, OKX) all support TRC-20 liquidity. This makes USDT the actual settlement currency for underground banks.
Now, no need for complex trade disguises to balance accounts.
Vancouver counterparty needs USD? Shanghai “old buddy” directly transfers USDT on chain.
Need to settle with Mexicans? Send a QR code, USDT arrives instantly.
USDT’s emergence has compressed the original days or weeks of physical settlement (T+N) into seconds (T+0). This greatly increases capital turnover.
4.2 The Industrialization of “Fleet”
Under the shadow of crypto finance, a new profession has emerged: “Run the score.”
No longer the lone water carrier, but highly organized, industrialized “human API.” In some villages in Fujian and Guangdong, or Southeast Asian scam zones, thousands of phones are neatly arranged on racks, each logged into a bought bank app and a crypto wallet.
These phones are script-controlled, running nonstop “fiat-USDT-fiat” cycles.
Cleaning layer: dispersing funds via decentralized exchanges (DEX) or high-frequency trading.
Accumulation layer: finally converging into clean USDT, flowing into exchange cold wallets.
These “fleets” are the infrastructure of underground banks. They bear the greatest legal risks (freeze cards, arrests) for minimal “transaction fee.” They are the consumables of this vast machine. When a “fleet” is busted by police, it’s just a “node crash” in underground banks—replace IDs, restart servers.
4.3 The “Shadow Banking” in Exchanges
Many second- and third-tier exchanges’ OTC desks are essentially digital Piju. They know where their liquidity comes from. When regulators demand KYC data, they cooperate; but before that, they are the biggest allies of underground banks.
Some exchanges even directly participate in underground bank operations via internal market makers. They use user deposits to provide off-exchange liquidity support, earning high lending interest. This is “misappropriation.”
When markets are stable, it’s a lucrative business. But when the “10.11” black swan hits, and underground banks withdraw liquidity en masse due to regulatory pressure, exchange reserves can suffer huge gaps.
Chapter 5: The Dark Web of Liquidity Swaps
5.1 Vancouver Mode
Vancouver is the western capital of Chaoshan underground banks.
Here, you see another form of “flying money” system—perfect combination of real estate and casino money laundering. Wealthy Chinese entering casinos with suitcases of cash are often not gamblers but “mules” for underground banks.
Buy chips: purchase chips with illicit cash.
Hedge: at baccarat tables, use “banker-player” pairs (with some loss, but negligible compared to laundering costs) to pass chips around.
Cash out: exchange chips for casino-issued checks.
Property: use these “clean” checks to buy luxury homes in Vancouver’s West End.
This not only inflates local property prices but also hijacks the city’s economy into the underground bank’s chariot. Here, real estate becomes a store of value like Bitcoin, and underground banks are the miners.
5.2 North Korea’s “Alchemists”
The most ironic allies in this network are North Korea.
Lazarus Group, the world’s most prolific hacker collective, has stolen billions in crypto assets. But these assets are on blacklists, unconvertible on compliant exchanges. Who can help them? Only Chaoshan underground banks.
For underground banks, North Korea’s black coins are discounted USDT. They buy these tainted coins at 70% or less, then use countless “fleets” and mixers to wash them, finally selling to Chinese middle class eager to transfer assets abroad.
In this trade:
North Korea gets foreign exchange for missile manufacturing.
Underground banks earn huge spreads.
Chinese middle class get (though illicit) overseas assets that seem clean.
In this dark forest, there’s no ideology—only the exchange of liquidity.
5.3 Dubai: The New Safe Haven
As Vancouver and Singapore tighten regulations, Dubai is becoming a new node. Web3 gatherings, luxury property deals, USDT exchanges are openly happening here. Chaoshan “parents” are migrating their servers and core ledgers into the desert. This is the new “Piju,” a land of milk and honey for digital nomads and money launderers.
Chapter 6: The Future Ledger
Will underground banks disappear? Never. As long as capital controls exist, capital will escape. As long as greed persists, money laundering will continue. But their forms will evolve.
In this market, only liquidity is real; everything else is narrative. And the source of liquidity often hides in the darkest corners you least expect.
The story of Chaoshan underground banks is not about crime but about market efficiency. It’s about how a group of people, squeezed between empires, oceans, and algorithms, built their own financial story.
In this story, you and I are just supporting characters.
This page may contain third-party content, which is provided for information purposes only (not representations/warranties) and should not be considered as an endorsement of its views by Gate, nor as financial or professional advice. See Disclaimer for details.
Settlement and Shadow Liquidity: A Thousand Years of Cryptography in Chaoshan Underground Money Houses
Author: danny
True liquidity is not about Uniswap/depth of order books, nor digital balances within wallets, but the ability to instantly and losslessly transfer purchasing power from point A to point B in the world without SWIFT system approval.
In the world of Web3, we are accustomed to discussing TPS and scaling solutions. But off-chain, in that gray area forgotten by the SWIFT system, the true “scaling” was completed a hundred years ago. This article peels back the glamorous algorithmic veneer of DeFi and turns our gaze to the real backbone supporting the global circulation of crypto assets—the final settlement layer composed of kinship, clans, and underground contracts.
This article will discuss how the ancient network known as “Qiaopi” parasitized, devoured, and ultimately formed the real Layer 0 of modern crypto finance.
Who would have thought that this shadow liquidity, spanning thousands of years, would embrace blockchain at this moment?
Chapter 1: Ghost in the Machine? Or in the Tea Money?
1.1 The Invisible Hand and Disappearing Counterparties
Modern crypto analysts love to talk about “liquidity,” as if it were a quantifiable DeFi metric like TVL. That’s naive. True liquidity is the ability to instantly transfer purchasing power from point A to point B without SWIFT system approval.
When you see USDT premiums suddenly spike on OTC markets, or at midnight find the seemingly bottomless buy walls suddenly retreat, it’s not market sentiment changing, but the “parents” of Shantou underground banks deciding to rest.
This is an anecdote about “shadow liquidity”—how the ancient network called “Qiaopi” parasitized, devoured, and ultimately dominated the modern crypto settlement layer.
We must understand: Shantou underground banks are not the rough bandits seen in police dramas carrying cash boxes. They are financial architects who solved the “Double Flower Problem” a thousand years before Nakamoto. They don’t need blockchain to establish consensus because they have “trust”—a social consensus mechanism more refined and tamper-proof than SHA-256.
1.2 The Signal of “Tea Money” in the Macro Fog
When you see a KOL on Twitter shouting “Bull Market is here,” it’s worth checking the current “tea money” in a teahouse in Luohu, Shenzhen.
In underground bank slang, “tea money” is not just a commission for intermediaries; it’s also the “pressure index” of global capital controls. When “tea money” rises from 0.3% to 2%, it indicates that underground channels are tightening, regulators’ hounds are closing in, or more likely—some super whale is draining liquidity through this channel.
Such micro signals often foreshadow market crashes a week before Bloomberg Terminal news. If you don’t understand how to interpret “tea money” fluctuations, you don’t deserve to talk about Alpha in crypto.
Chapter 2: The Source Code of Ancestors (Layer 0)
2.1 Qiaopi: The Earliest Decentralized Ledger
180 years before the Bitcoin white paper, the people of Chaoshan had already invented their Layer 0 protocol: Qiaopi.
To understand how a Chaoshan “stacked code” can transfer 50 million USDT from Macau to Las Vegas in the blink of an eye, we must first understand that yellowed paper. Qiaopi, literally “Overseas Chinese Letter,” was actually the most efficient “silver and letter” system in human history.
In 19th-century Nanyang, thousands of Chaoshan coolies needed to send money home. Official postal systems were slow and greedy. So, water carriers emerged. In crypto terms, these were the earliest “nodes.” They traveled between Singapore, Thailand, and Chaoshan clan villages, carrying not just letters and silver dollars but the livelihood of entire clans.
In this network, there was no centralized server—only “Piju”—the predecessor of today’s OTC desks. Piju handled remittances and information. They packaged hundreds of letters into a “general bundle,” similar to Ethereum’s Rollup, reducing transmission costs through batch processing.
2.2 The Credit Consensus Mechanism
Why can a water carrier, a stranger, carry millions of dollars across pirate-infested straits without fleeing with the money?
Western economists call it “Repeated Game,” but Chaoshan people call it “trust.” It’s more than commercial reputation; it’s a clan social contract. In Chaoshan villages, everyone’s identity is anchored in the ancestral hall’s genealogy. If a water carrier dares to swallow even a penny of Qiaopi, he might physically escape, but socially he faces “social death”—expulsion from the clan, exhumation of ancestors’ graves, and his descendants barred from marriage.
This is a more expensive consensus mechanism than PoW: Family Proof (Proof of Family). Your collateral isn’t 32 ETH but your entire family’s reputation spanning hundreds of years in Chaoshan plains. Thanks to this high cost of default, the Qiaopi network achieved an astonishing 99.99% uptime, never interrupted even during WWII.
2.3 The Alchemy of Flying Money
Over time, water carriers realized that running around with heavy silver dollars was foolish. They reinvented the Tang Dynasty’s “Flying Money” technology—modern banking’s “countertrade.”
The elegance of this mechanism lies in its “non-movement.”
Imagine:
Node A (Singapore): Boss Li wants to send 1,000 taels of silver to Chaoshan. He hands the silver to the Singapore Piju.
Node B (Chaoshan): The Singapore Piju writes a letter of credit to the Chaoshan counterpart.
Settlement: The Chaoshan Piju directly takes 1,000 taels from their vault and gives it to Boss Li’s family.
In this process, no silver crosses the South China Sea. The silver stays in Singapore, and the payment is made in Chaoshan. This not only avoids pirate risks but also separates physical fund movement from value transfer.
This is the underlying logic of all cross-border crypto payments today. When we say USDT transfer, the token on chain moves, but the underlying dollar collateral still rests in Tether’s custodial bank (or so we hope). Chaoshan underground banks mastered this game 150 years ago, and modern crypto finance is just putting a cyberpunk coat on this ancient mechanism.
Chapter 3: The Alchemy of Settlement
3.1 The Structure of the Mirror Network
Today’s Chaoshan underground bank network is a distributed system composed of thousands of loosely coupled nodes. It has no CEO, no headquarters, only countless mirror-image bookkeeping offices.
Suppose you are a private equity tycoon in Shanghai, wanting to convert 200 million RMB into USD to buy a house in Vancouver. You wouldn’t queue at Bank of China; you’d go to your “cousin.”
In this process, funds do not cross borders. RMB stays in Shanghai, entering the underground bank’s fund pool; USD remains in Vancouver, flowing out from offshore fund pools.
3.2 The Art of Settlement and the Shadow of Fentanyl
Here’s a classic inventory problem: if Vancouver’s counterparty keeps paying in USD, and Shanghai’s “old buddy” keeps collecting RMB, eventually Vancouver’s USD will run out, and Shanghai’s RMB will accumulate. How to resolve this “inventory imbalance”?
Traditional SWIFT relies on central bank settlement. Underground banks use “goods” to settle—Trade-Based Money Laundering (TBML).
In the darkest corners, this settlement loop is tightly intertwined with the global drug trade.
Let’s introduce a third player: the Sinaloa Cartel.
The cartel in the US and Canada holds大量美元现金 (drug proceeds), but they need to launder and transfer this money back to Mexico or buy Chinese precursors to produce fentanyl.
Chinese tycoons hold RMB and want USD.
Underground banks act as intermediaries, executing the sinister “Sinaloa swap”:
Rich guy’s RMB goes to Chinese chemical factories, paying for cartel’s chemicals.
Cartel’s USD cash is handed over to the rich guy’s agents in North America.
Chemicals are shipped to Mexico, turned into drugs, sold in the US, generating new USD.
It’s a perfect closed loop. No funds cross borders, yet capital escapes, drugs are procured, and dirty money is laundered—all in one cycle. That’s why US DEA and Chinese police, even working together, find it hard to cut this network because it’s not a line but an ecosystem.
3.3 The Ununderstandable “Tea Money” of Algorithms
In this ecosystem, “tea money” (spread/exchange rate difference) is not just profit; it’s risk pricing. The core of this pricing—the difference between underground and official exchange rates—is the country’s real “Credit Default Swap” (CDS) price of its fiat currency.
If the official rate is 7.1, and underground banks’ rate is 7.4, the 300 basis points spread includes:
Regulatory risk premium: probability of account freeze (“freeze card”).
Liquidity premium: scarcity of offshore USD.
Trust premium: no KYC costs.
Before the “10.11” crash, sensitive underground banks sharply increased “tea money.” They sensed regulatory winds or that a huge buyer (perhaps a recently liquidated whale) had drained the offshore USD liquidity pool. When “tea money” surges, it indicates fiat channels are blocked, crypto buying power is exhausted, and a crash is imminent.
Chapter 4: Digital Variants
4.1 TRC-20: The Poor Man’s SWIFT
If Qiaopi is Layer 0, and underground countertrade is Layer 1, then USDT is the most successful DApp running on this system (especially USDT on Tron).
Ask any old hand in crypto why they prefer Tron over Ethereum for transfers, and they’ll say: cheap, fast. But ask a Chaoshan underground bank operator, and they’ll give you a deeper answer: Ethereum is too expensive, Bitcoin too slow, Base and BNB too centralized, Solana too easy to trace…
For the “fleet” handling thousands of small transfers daily, low Gas fees and chain-tracking obfuscation are key. More importantly, Asian exchanges (Huobi, Binance, OKX) all support TRC-20 liquidity. This makes USDT the actual settlement currency for underground banks.
Now, no need for complex trade disguises to balance accounts.
USDT’s emergence has compressed the original days or weeks of physical settlement (T+N) into seconds (T+0). This greatly increases capital turnover.
4.2 The Industrialization of “Fleet”
Under the shadow of crypto finance, a new profession has emerged: “Run the score.”
No longer the lone water carrier, but highly organized, industrialized “human API.” In some villages in Fujian and Guangdong, or Southeast Asian scam zones, thousands of phones are neatly arranged on racks, each logged into a bought bank app and a crypto wallet.
These phones are script-controlled, running nonstop “fiat-USDT-fiat” cycles.
These “fleets” are the infrastructure of underground banks. They bear the greatest legal risks (freeze cards, arrests) for minimal “transaction fee.” They are the consumables of this vast machine. When a “fleet” is busted by police, it’s just a “node crash” in underground banks—replace IDs, restart servers.
4.3 The “Shadow Banking” in Exchanges
Many second- and third-tier exchanges’ OTC desks are essentially digital Piju. They know where their liquidity comes from. When regulators demand KYC data, they cooperate; but before that, they are the biggest allies of underground banks.
Some exchanges even directly participate in underground bank operations via internal market makers. They use user deposits to provide off-exchange liquidity support, earning high lending interest. This is “misappropriation.”
When markets are stable, it’s a lucrative business. But when the “10.11” black swan hits, and underground banks withdraw liquidity en masse due to regulatory pressure, exchange reserves can suffer huge gaps.
Chapter 5: The Dark Web of Liquidity Swaps
5.1 Vancouver Mode
Vancouver is the western capital of Chaoshan underground banks.
Here, you see another form of “flying money” system—perfect combination of real estate and casino money laundering. Wealthy Chinese entering casinos with suitcases of cash are often not gamblers but “mules” for underground banks.
Buy chips: purchase chips with illicit cash.
Hedge: at baccarat tables, use “banker-player” pairs (with some loss, but negligible compared to laundering costs) to pass chips around.
Cash out: exchange chips for casino-issued checks.
Property: use these “clean” checks to buy luxury homes in Vancouver’s West End.
This not only inflates local property prices but also hijacks the city’s economy into the underground bank’s chariot. Here, real estate becomes a store of value like Bitcoin, and underground banks are the miners.
5.2 North Korea’s “Alchemists”
The most ironic allies in this network are North Korea.
Lazarus Group, the world’s most prolific hacker collective, has stolen billions in crypto assets. But these assets are on blacklists, unconvertible on compliant exchanges. Who can help them? Only Chaoshan underground banks.
For underground banks, North Korea’s black coins are discounted USDT. They buy these tainted coins at 70% or less, then use countless “fleets” and mixers to wash them, finally selling to Chinese middle class eager to transfer assets abroad.
In this trade:
North Korea gets foreign exchange for missile manufacturing.
Underground banks earn huge spreads.
Chinese middle class get (though illicit) overseas assets that seem clean.
In this dark forest, there’s no ideology—only the exchange of liquidity.
5.3 Dubai: The New Safe Haven
As Vancouver and Singapore tighten regulations, Dubai is becoming a new node. Web3 gatherings, luxury property deals, USDT exchanges are openly happening here. Chaoshan “parents” are migrating their servers and core ledgers into the desert. This is the new “Piju,” a land of milk and honey for digital nomads and money launderers.
Chapter 6: The Future Ledger
Will underground banks disappear? Never. As long as capital controls exist, capital will escape. As long as greed persists, money laundering will continue. But their forms will evolve.
In this market, only liquidity is real; everything else is narrative. And the source of liquidity often hides in the darkest corners you least expect.
The story of Chaoshan underground banks is not about crime but about market efficiency. It’s about how a group of people, squeezed between empires, oceans, and algorithms, built their own financial story.
In this story, you and I are just supporting characters.