Who the hell taught you this Aren't you ashamed of yourself

Young Master Cao is truly ruthless.

Listing out the production costs like that...

These days, resentment toward the wealthy runs deep. Even Young Master Cao isn’t spared, constantly bombarded with snide remarks and demands to disclose his donations.

Let alone someone like Pao’er.

Being ugly is practically a sin—it’s hard to even make a decent first impression.

So,

when people saw the production costs and realized the movie had already recouped its budget before even hitting theaters, they were instantly furious.

How is this fair?

The film’s reputation is terrible, getting torn apart by critics, and yet we’re supposed to line your pockets for no reason?

No way.

Absolutely not watching.

Only idiots would watch Pao’er’s movies.

Cao Cheng dropped another golden phrase: "Big sucker!"

The term itself isn’t new—it’s commonly used in northern regions.

But this was the first time it went viral online.

So...

Once Young Master Cao coined the phrase, he capped it off with: "Watch If You Are the One 2, become a big sucker!"

Those words instantly burned into everyone’s memory.

Anyone with a shred of dignity would be too embarrassed to admit they’d seen If You Are the One 2—because watching it meant you were a big sucker.

A brutally savage remark!

...

Pao’er finally reached his limit.

He’d never met a young man as vicious as Cao Cheng.

Pao’er fired back: "Some people only know how to manipulate public opinion with sly remarks, misleading the uninformed masses. Their intentions are malicious. What’s more, certain individuals control theater chains, using capital to manipulate screenings and suppress competitors."

"The entertainment industry will be ruined by people like this sooner or later."

Just two sentences.

But they were enough to slap a label on Young Master Cao.

Some things shouldn’t be said carelessly—words like "manipulate public opinion" risk crossing red lines with the authorities.

And "suppress competitors" was clearly an attempt to rally the industry against Cao Cheng.

Pao’er’s words were brief, but just as cutting.

He even tagged Young Master Cao in the post.

Cao Cheng replied instantly: "‘Some people’? Pao’er, this isn’t like you. Weren’t you always the one hurling insults? Now you’re cowering? Showing your true colors. If you’ve got the guts, name names—like me. I’ll say it outright: Pao’er, you’re ugly, your movies are ugly, and all you do is trick clueless audiences into being big suckers. Behind closed doors, you even trash them for having no taste, don’t you?"

Pao’er shot back: "Nonsense."

Cao Cheng: "Dare to do it but not own up? What a coward."

"..."

Pao’er was too furious to respond.

Cao Cheng posted again: "Let the Bullets Fly is about to surpass Aftershock at the box office. When are you planning to run? Give me a date—I’ll invite the global press to watch."

Damn.

That’s too much.

Pao’er was livid.

Invite the global press?

Does he think I, Pao’er, have no shame?

Pao’er has international fame—aside from those small-time directors obsessed with rural themes, he’s one of the few big names in the domestic scene.

Pao’er grumbled in response: "You’re rigging the screenings. Your own theaters didn’t give If You Are the One 2 any slots."

Cao Cheng couldn’t be bothered to argue: "Fine, back out if you want. I won’t actually force you to run."

Pao’er snapped: "I said you’re rigging screenings!"

Cao Cheng repeated: "Fine, back out if you want. I won’t actually force you to run."

Pao’er: "..."

Cao Cheng: "Fine, back out if you want—"

"Are you a damn broken record?"

"Fine, back out if you want—"

"Ugh!"

...

The spectators ate it up.

They could practically feel Pao’er’s frustration.

Running into someone as ruthless as Young Master Cao? Pao’er was cursed with the worst luck.

The feud raged on, but Cao Cheng soon lost interest in the box office battle.

These days, movies routinely extend their theatrical runs—like Pao’er’s Aftershock, which stayed in cinemas for at least two months.

Let the Bullets Fly was no exception.

But the peak earnings window for films is usually around twenty days.

That’s when 80% of the revenue rolls in, unless some external event gives it a second wind.

Either way... Let the Bullets Fly was unstoppable—it would dominate the year’s box office.

Young Master Cao had already done what he set out to do. The only thing left was to see how much profit the film would rake in.

...

In any case,

Young Master Cao’s mind was already elsewhere.

Lately, he’d been investing in countless companies.

He had a particular habit: casting a wide net but never bothering to nurture.

He’d throw money in, then step back. No micromanaging.

With so many investments, if he had to personally oversee each one—dealing with equity disputes, sending representatives, sitting through endless reports—he’d have no time for anything else.

Just this year alone,

Young Master Cao had poured funds into newly established Xiaomi, Meituan, and iQiyi.

This wasn’t even the early stages anymore—his so-called "internet ecosystem" was nearly complete.

His influence spanned half the online world.

For these companies, securing investment from someone like Cao Cheng was a dream come true.

Especially since he was famous in the industry for being "loaded," "hands-off," and "never power-hungry."

No investor could top that.

...

By year’s end,

Young Master Cao was busier than ever—genuinely swamped.

He spent days visiting his major investments, attending closed-door shareholder meetings.

Meanwhile,

his own company, Miracle Group, had nearly completed its new campus. Final touches were underway for next year’s move-in.

And the "Miracle Trio"—Miracle Media, Miracle Cosmetics, and Miracle Capital—required his personal attention for year-end bonuses.

The companies were no longer startups. If others had perks, his team would too.

A 14-month salary was the baseline.

Top performers got cars worth 150,000 RMB.

This could’ve been kept low-key.

But who was Young Master Cao?

He couldn’t care less about others’ opinions. And for the sake of stirring reactions, he made sure the news blew up.

Resentment? Envy? All just emotional fuel for him.

So,

in January,

amid freezing temperatures,

Young Master Cao’s Weibo was on fire.

He posted an image—video wasn’t an option yet, or it would’ve gone even wilder.

The long graphic showed rows of sleek black cars and stacks of crimson cash.

The vehicles were imposing, exuding power.

The money was intoxicating, a siren call to greed.

At the bottom was a list of winners:

"Miracle Media Talent Agent [Name]—rewarded one car (150,000 RMB), year-end bonus 50,000!"

"Miracle Cosmetics R&D [Name]—rewarded one car (150,000 RMB), year-end bonus 50,000!"

"Miracle Capital Finance [Name]—rewarded one apartment (300,000 RMB), year-end bonus..."

The total payout exceeded 20 million RMB.

Fans were stunned.

The public flocked to the spectacle.

"Seeing how generous your company is, I’m not actually jealous. I’m happy for you making money—after all, we’re all just working stiffs, and life’s tough. But… damn, you guys are making way too much! (sobbing)" Likes: 201K

"What’s the definition of a pleasant surprise? What the hell counts as a pleasant surprise? What the hell is this so-called pleasant surprise?" Likes: 190K

"Today, I took my wife out of the city, enjoying hot pot and singing, when suddenly you had to flaunt your success in my face. My good mood vanished instantly—worse than getting robbed by bandits. Now the whole year’s ruined. Screw it, I’m done!" Likes: 180K

"I’d love to earn money with dignity, but when I look down, I’m still on my knees. Can’t even stand up. Someone give me a hand, damn it." Likes: 170K

"Big bro, you know me—I prefer to stay passive. So, when’s my boss gonna take the initiative and hand out bonuses? Can someone ask him for me? Did he forget? Or is he dead?" Likes skyrocketing…

The internet never runs short of people riffing on memes.

Even if fewer are doing it now, that’s exactly why the likes are pouring in like crazy.

Beyond these highly-liked comments, most are asking about the qualifications needed to join Miracle Company—education, experience, physique? Do they need to wear clothes? (Asking for a friend, I’m a girl.)

In short,

the Miracle Trio has suddenly become the idealized dream for many.

Nothing invites comparison like this.

Once people start comparing, most begin seeing their own companies as slaughterhouses.

The boss is the butcher, and they’re the pigs—exploited for their skin, meat, organs, even their trotters turned into a delicious braised dish. Nothing goes to waste.

This wave of emotions comes from the working class.

Mostly negative.

Plenty of bosses are also seething with resentment.

"This is how you hand out year-end bonuses?

Who the hell taught you that?

You’re just evil, aren’t you?"

Truth is,

people haven’t been fully exposed to the internet’s influence yet. Even the coal tycoons aren’t making waves like this—it’s only the beginning.

So, when Cao Cheng pulled this move, it genuinely broke a lot of people.

Is 20 million a lot?

Absolutely.

But many companies could afford it.

Affording it and actually giving it away are two different things. Wouldn’t the executives rather split 20 million among themselves? Why give it to regular employees?

Especially when cash, cars, and houses are the holy trinity of this era.

With those three, you’ll never lack female attention.

Anyway,

long story short, Cao Cheng’s stunt stirred up countless people—including Eldest Sister.

Fuming, her face icy, she stood stiffly in front of Young Master Cao.

Cao Cheng, basking in the warm sunlight, opened his eyes to see Eldest Sister’s frosty expression.

She really had changed.

Commanding and coldly elegant.

Cao Cheng rose from his lounge chair and poured tea. "Eldest Sister, have some tea."

"Could you at least consider the repercussions when handing out company rewards? Now the family conglomerate is buzzing, expecting me to match your bonuses." Her voice was bitter.

Cao Cheng chuckled. "Then just give it to them. Money’s meant to be spent."

"I don’t have that kind of money!" she snapped.

The family’s wealth wasn’t limitless—or rather, it wasn’t like the future internet boom’s profits.

At its core, it was a brick-and-mortar business. How much cash flow could hotels, jewelry, or real estate really generate?

Whatever money they had went into hoarding land, restocking inventory, and other capital-heavy moves.

Besides,

the Ren Group’s employee count dwarfed the Miracle Trio’s.

Miracle Capital had barely a dozen people.

Miracle Cosmetics had slightly more, but not by much—few physical stores.

Only Miracle Media had a sizable workforce, mostly freelancers. But Miracle Media was raking it in—two variety shows in two years, over a billion in revenue.

The Ren Group couldn’t compete.

Cao Cheng smiled, pulling Eldest Sister down to sit.

She had been standing arms crossed, and his sudden tug caught her off-balance, sending her tumbling onto his lap.

Her expression shifted.

But Cao Cheng just said, "I’ve got a solution for you. Minimal cost, great reputation, happy employees, thrilled bosses. Wanna hear it?"

Eldest Sister paused, not bothering to get up. "What is it?"