What Tang Xin saw was nothing but positive market signals.
This wasn’t just her personal opinion—it represented the views of many others as well.
Right now, everyone could only see the upside.
Or rather,
their subjective minds were only willing to accept good news.
The brain is a fascinating thing. Once a subjective bias takes hold, it automatically filters out anything unfavorable.
It’s only during hindsight that so many people regret their decisions.
Why were the warning signs right there, yet they ignored them at the time?
Young Master Cao is human too.
He has his own biases.
So when he predicted a downturn, aside from his dream-induced memories, his subjective mind was convinced it would fall—making every piece of news seem problematic.
……
However, Young Master Cao didn’t bother explaining these signals.
Instead, his tone carried a hint of authority.
"Listen to me!"
Tang Xin was usually domineering, but it depended on who she was dealing with.
Faced with this forceful man, she softened considerably.
"What choice do I have but to listen? We’ve already sold off everything, and some institutions know we’ve dumped our holdings—they’ve taken the bait…"
Tang Xin sighed faintly, "We’ve made a lot recently—a strong start, a first victory. Ao Tian has established itself in this industry. But if the market keeps rising, Ao Tian will become a laughingstock. Even financing might be affected."
"Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. If anyone dares laugh at us, I’ll personally… scold them," Cao Cheng reassured her.
Tang Xin rolled her eyes. "If the company goes under, will you support me? I’ve bet everything alongside you."
Cao Cheng suddenly felt the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He quickly shook his head. "I couldn’t afford that. You’d better keep working hard and earn enough to support me instead."
Tang Xin laughed in exasperation, pinching his ear. "Now I understand why The Fourth loves twisting your ear so much—you deserve it!"
Cao Cheng’s hands weren’t idle either.
But he couldn’t help but wonder—
How could stockings be this thin?
Truly the pinnacle of human technological achievement, sheer as cicada wings. Perhaps only lithography machines could rival them.
Whoever designed these was an absolute genius.
Too bad the inventor died too early—back in the 16th century.
If he were still alive, Young Master Cao wouldn’t have minded granting him immortality, just so he could spend eternity inventing women’s products.
That would’ve been a blessing for men worldwide… er, no, for women worldwide.
What a shame!
A real pity!
……
Her cheeks slightly flushed,
Tang Xin swatted his hand away and struggled to her feet.
She had to get up—
Things were getting… leaky.
Settling back into her chair across the desk, she took a sip of iced coffee.
The haze in her eyes gradually faded as she changed the subject. "How much of your capital have you offloaded?"
Cao Cheng shook his head. "I’m still bullish, so I haven’t sold."
"???"
Tang Xin’s brain short-circuited for three seconds.
What did I just hear?
Is my brain processing this correctly?
[Ding~ Negative emotions exploding]
Tang Xin panicked.
Cao Cheng burst out laughing. "Just kidding! I sold 70%. My position’s too big to exit quickly. Average sell-off was above 5600—lost a bit there!"
Young Master Cao wanted to squeeze out every last penny too.
But with his massive capital, waiting till the end would’ve buried him.
The remaining 30% wasn’t urgent.
There was still time next week. Even after the drop, it could rebound past 5700—plenty of room to maneuver.
So he’d keep unloading slowly.
Then pivot to shorting.
"Come on, lunch is on me. Treasure this—I rarely treat people."
"Big deal," Tang Xin scoffed, though her irritation couldn’t mask her upbeat mood as she stood and left with Cao Cheng.
……
The weekend passed in a blink.
Monday arrived—
And right out the gate, the market surged past 6000!
It held firmly above 6000.
Tuesday, the moment of truth—a charge toward the historic peak of 6124. It dipped slightly at close, settling at 6092, just shy of stabilizing at 6100.
Everything looked rosy and steady.
Record highs kept breaking.
For many retail traders, making tens of thousands daily became routine.
If you were only pocketing a few thousand, you’d be embarrassed to call yourself an investor.
Everyone shared their winning strategies.
At this moment, everyone was a stock god.
Everyone urged others to hurry and grab easy money—buy anything now, it’ll all go up. Don’t fear corrections, don’t fear red.
If it turns red? That’s just the market backing up to let you board.
The redder it gets, the more you should buy.
Right now, everyone’s praying for a dip—because only then will you get your chance to enter.
Scrounge up every legal cent you can. The more capital, the bigger the profits.
Trust me.
I’ve made a fortune.
I’m an expert.
I wouldn’t lie.
……
The streets overflowed with such talk.
Online, it was a carnival of backslapping optimism.
Only the "Green Post" faced relentless mockery.
Whether intentional or not, forum mods kept it pinned at the top—
A stock discussion site perpetually featuring a "green"-themed post at its peak? Conspicuous.
Most didn’t get it.
But Young Master Cao understood—the mods wanted traffic. Whether praised or cursed, the Green Post guaranteed floods of new users.
Hence,
no matter how much Young Master Cao ranted, not a single thread got deleted.
That’s clout.
……
Wednesday came.
A minor correction—from yesterday’s 6090 down to 6036!
"Correction! Quick, rush in!"
"Buy now or miss out!"
"Ugh, I’m tapped out—every penny’s already in. Borrowed to the max too. My lenders want their money back—they’re investing themselves! So annoying. Can’t they wait a few days? What’s their hurry over lousy 100K? Two days of gains would cover it all…"
"6200 tomorrow…"
"Yesterday some guru—a close buddy—whispered to me we’re hitting 7000 this month."
"The month’s half over? Two weeks left—charge! This dip’s a gift!"
"Wow, stock god Ao Tian was right—it did go green… by a hair. Hahaha!"
"Hahaha, the ‘god’ became a joke."
Pure bedlam.
Scrolling through posts and comments, Young Master Cao frowned.
He pondered a theological question.
In his dream, a mystic fortune-teller once told him: "Your success will be built on countless bones."
He hadn’t believed it then.
He thought life was about self-determination—wealth and status earned through one’s own hands.
But now… it seemed he’d need everyone else after all.
Yet…
He hesitated.
Young Master Cao had some conscience left. Otherwise, given his system’s nature, Cao Cheng would’ve gone on a killing spree long ago.
He could’ve farmed divine-tier loot boxes in minutes.
No joke.
But had Young Master Cao killed anyone?
Not just killing—
Even just committing… certain acts could’ve netted him half a divine loot box.
But in the end…
Young Master Cao still put in painstaking effort day after day, exhausting himself to the bone. At most, he’d curse a little or rough up some banana men and local thugs.
He considered himself quite benevolent already.
...
Young Master Cao truly believed he was kind.
He couldn’t even bear to watch.
Lighting a cigarette, he stepped aside.
With a helpless shrug of his hands,
he observed the market’s final frenzy and fireworks.
Tragic!
Tragic!
Tragic!
October 18th.
The crash may be late, but it never misses its appointment!
Have you ever seen a giant green pillar falling from the sky?
Well,
there it was, right before his eyes.
A massive green column came crashing down.
Though it only corrected by a little over 200 points, dropping to 5800—logically, that should’ve been enough to sober people up.
But fate sometimes works like this.
The clarity lasted all of three seconds.
A chorus erupted: “Finally, a big correction—time to buy the dip!”
“Buy the dip.”
“Buy the dip!”
“Buy the dip…”
With tears in his eyes, Young Master Cao ordered more selling, only for them to scoop up every last share.

ose... to cooperate with the protagonist! Shen Yuan: I have a system! Protagonist: What? System: Holy crap, you're just spilling it out like that? Shen Yuan: Let's team up, we'll split the system rewards! Protagonist: Fifty-fifty split? Shen Yuan: No way! Protagonist: What!? I'm the one getting beaten up, and I don't get half? Shen Yuan: Forty-sixty split, I get forty, you get sixty! Protagonist: Deal! Big brother, come on, hit me! As long as it doesn't kill me, beat me like you mean it! Shen Yuan: Don't worry... I will definitely protect all of you! No one but me can lay a finger on you! Guard our Heaven's Chosen Ones! I'm the only one allowed to bully them!

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia