Hong Kong.
What a great place!
The climate is so pleasant.
This wasn’t Tang Xin’s first time here, and she had shared plenty of insights and precautions along the way.
Upon arrival, they were greeted by their local partner company.
It wasn’t just Cao Cheng and Tang Xin who came—they were part of a team that included specialized financial lawyers and professionals well-versed in the financial regulations of mainland China, Hong Kong, and the U.S.
There was a lot to do.
But Cao Cheng didn’t need to handle everything personally. He just had to delegate tasks and let the team negotiate.
Things like currency exchange, opening bank accounts.
Most importantly, leveraging the futures market to buy RMB-USD futures contracts…
What did that mean?
Well, knowing there would be exchange rate fluctuations next year and that the RMB would appreciate, it was only natural to position themselves early.
Otherwise, after shorting the U.S. market and returning, they might find that the profits from the short were partially wiped out by exchange rate volatility. That would be a huge loss.
Truth be told,
this time, Young Master Cao was relying entirely on himself.
His memories didn’t include any news reports about exchange rates—unless there were drastic rises or falls, normal annual fluctuations rarely made headlines.
So,
Young Master Cao didn’t know the exact details of next year’s exchange rates.
But he had studied enough finance to work backward. Once he confirmed a major crisis was looming in the U.S., he deduced that the RMB would appreciate.
He didn’t know by how much.
But that was enough.
So, he secured some futures contracts, added options for hedging, and arranged currency swap agreements with local financial institutions…
Using RMB as collateral, they borrowed USD from banks, with contracts stipulating repayment in RMB a year later.
In simple terms, money borrowed at 7.5 now could be repaid at 6.5 later.
Doing nothing, they’d make a 13% profit in a year.
All it cost was a small amount of interest.
And they didn’t have to worry about exchange rate fluctuations.
A guaranteed win.
That was the gist of it.
However,
all of this required negotiation.
With plenty of cash on hand, Cao Cheng had leverage in every discussion.
Finance is ever-changing.
Even if something didn’t exist yet, as long as there was profit to be made, capital would inevitably find its way in.
……
Two weeks later.
The team was exhausted.
But Cao Cheng and Tang Xin were living leisurely.
For the first time, Tang Xin experienced the sheer bliss of doing nothing.
No worries at all.
Especially with Cao Cheng around—it felt like nothing could bother them.
Shopping, strolling, occasionally checking the domestic stock market.
The two looked every bit like a young couple, drawing endless envy and resentment wherever they went.
The fact that they even had bodyguards only added to the “disdain”—clearly, they came from extraordinary backgrounds.
By the end of those two weeks,
the domestic market had been stuck in a sideways trend.
It seemed like bulls and bears were locked in a fierce battle—from around 5,300 points on January 2nd to roughly 5,500 points by January 14th.
A slow, volatile climb.
Signs of a market recovery, with the bulls gaining the upper hand.
Was it going to keep rising?
But professionals knew better. The daily trading volume was sky-high, with massive sell-offs and buy-ins.
Who was selling? Who was buying? It was obvious!
It wasn’t just retail investors jumping in—foreign capital was involved too.
After all, the bursting of this bubble had… certain influences behind it. Deliberately triggered. It wasn’t hard to imagine how many international hedge funds were sitting on paper losses.
They were getting trapped too.
……
That evening.
Tang Xin rested her legs on Cao Cheng’s lap—she was tired after a whole day out.
Cao Cheng was massaging them for her.
Tang Xin scrolled through messages on a laptop.
She was browsing domestic forums, logged into Cao Cheng’s account.
His inbox was flooded with hate.
She was reading through the insults.
At first, it had annoyed her, but after two weeks with Cao Cheng, his attitude had rubbed off on her. Now, instead of getting angry, she burst into laughter from time to time.
“This guy’s insults are filthy.”
“And this one—full of rhymes, mocking you and your fans in doggerel! ‘White dog bloated, followers brain-dead!’ Hahahaha…”
“…” Cao Cheng was speechless.
Tang Xin glanced at him, eyes glinting playfully. “This guy’s roasting you with solid arguments. Hard to refute.”
Cao Cheng kept massaging.
Focused on kneading her muscles, he asked casually, “What’s he saying?”
Tang Xin grinned. “He says, ‘Don’t be such a stock god wannabe.’ Hah, that’s actually funny…”
Cao Cheng shot her a look. What did she know?
A decade later, that line wouldn’t even qualify as a meme.
Tang Xin kept laughing. “He claims you cost him hundreds of thousands. He liquidated his positions in December after reading your post—back when the market bottomed at 4,800. He panicked, saw your analysis, and trusted you. Hahaha…”
“…” Cao Cheng pinched her leg hard.
Tang Xin yelped, glaring. “Ow! Why take it out on me? He’s the one complaining! The market rebounded to 5,500 this month. He could’ve kept profiting, but now he’s down over 500K…”
“Overall, he’s still up, but he blames you for his sleepless nights and lost appetite!”
Cao Cheng scoffed. “Ungrateful bastard. I saved his life, and he’s still whining. Hand me the laptop—let me shut him up.”
“Tell me what to type, I’ll do it.” Tang Xin smirked.
Cao Cheng didn’t refuse. “Tell him: If he’s so smart, he shouldn’t read my posts. A crash is coming—no one can stop it. If he doesn’t believe me, go all in. Don’t let me look down on him.”
Tang Xin typed while giggling, relaying Cao Cheng’s words.
Lately, she’d gotten into the habit of helping him clap back.
Not only had she discovered the joy of doing nothing, but she also found that trolling could be cathartic.
As long as she stayed unbothered, others would be the ones seething.
“Haha, he replied.”
“What’d he say?”
“Calls you trash. Says he’s going all in tomorrow—Tuesday. Any dip, and he’s buying. Never trusting a ‘stock god’ like you again.”
Cao Cheng nodded. “Spine of steel. I respect that. What’s his username?”
“Stock Market Hunter.”
“Great name!”
Cao Cheng chuckled. “Follow him. Remind him daily. Push him to keep adding positions—until he’s maxed out.”
There were plenty like him.
Inbox full of curses.
People regretting ever listening to Cao Cheng.
Some had been grateful—back at 4,800, those who followed his advice avoided losses and even gloated over others’ misfortune. They felt smart for picking Cao Cheng’s analysis out of the noise.
That counted as skill, right?
Their own achievement.
But then,
when the market bounced to 5,500, gratitude turned to vitriol. Now they blamed him for missing out.
Such was human nature.
……
Yet,
the next two weeks showed everyone what it meant to catch a falling knife.
The global situation took a nosedive…
True devastation everywhere!
No one was spared.
It finally stopped after dropping from 5500 to 4200!
At that moment,
Cao Cheng said to Tang Xin, "This is just the beginning. It’ll probably go back to where it came from!"
Those words sent a chill down Tang Xin’s spine—back below 1600?
Her admiration for Cao Cheng instantly soared to its peak.
And…
Everything fell perfectly into place.
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.”
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
saw a female celebrity tied up and stuffed in the trunk! Little did he know, countless cameras were aimed at him at this moment - this was a new type of reality show. The first randomly selected passerby was caught in less than an hour. But when Xu Moru was selected, things started to take an unexpected turn. "Damn, this isn't how the script goes. This Xu Moru is too bold, he's not following the rules at all." "Crap, is this guy taking it seriously?" "The female celebrity has been scared to tears!"
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?"
