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.
ts me of treason?" "Correct. The host must return to the capital and gradually build up influence." "Wait—I have half a million soldiers, and you want me to go back to the capital to 'build influence'?" "Host, you are currently the Northern Garrison General, loyal to the Great Xia Dynasty." "Of course I am loyal to Great Xia! Absolutely loyal!" "But you keep referring to yourself as 'We'..." "Never mind the details! Summon all the regional commanders and military officers! We suspect treacherous officials are manipulating the court! They shall march with Us to the capital and purge the corrupt!" "......"
g Yu was preparing for retirement when her organization decided to eliminate her. She transmigrated to a zombie apocalypse world. However, a tiny unexpected situation occurred: She somehow transformed into an adorable little girl?!
reezy rom-com) Good news: Jiang Liu is quite the ladies' man. Bad news: He’s lost his memory. Lying in a hospital bed, Jiang Liu listens to a parade of goddesses spouting "absurd claims," feeling like the world is one giant game of Werewolf. "Jiang Liu, I’m your first love." "Jiang Liu, you’re my boyfriend—she’s your ex." "Jiang Liu, we’re close friends who’ve shared a bed, remember?" "Jiang Liu, I want to have your baby." The now-lucid Jiang Liu is convinced this must be some elaborate scam... until someone drops the bombshell: "The day before you lost your memory, you confessed your feelings—and got into a relationship." Jiang Liu is utterly baffled. So... who the hell is his actual girlfriend?! ... Before recovering his memories, Jiang Liu must navigate this minefield of lies and sincerity, fighting to protect himself from these women’s schemes. But things spiral even further out of control as more people show up at his doorstep—each with increasingly unhinged antics. On the bright side, the memories he lost due to overwhelming trauma seem to be resurfacing. Great news, right? So why are they all panicking now?
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
