Then go complain about me to the United Nations.

Recently, many people have wanted to interview Young Master Cao.

There are also plenty of eyes watching him closely.

Paparazzi spotted Young Master Cao and his elder sister driving away from the eco-park, and the news quickly spread.

They tailed him all the way to the hospital.

Though private hospitals appear strictly managed, the paparazzi and reporters proved resourceful, contacting insiders and learning that Young Master Cao was in the maternity ward.

That single piece of information sparked endless speculation.

……

By noon,

Cao Cheng finally left the hospital—there were too many people around, and his presence wasn’t necessary.

Mainly, he had received a call from Wang Haodong, informing him that reporters had swarmed the hospital, forcing Young Master Cao to step in and handle the situation.

"He’s out, he’s out!"

"Who’s out?"

"Stop stuffing your face and grab the camera!" A seasoned paparazzo smacked the lunchbox out of a rookie’s hands, signaling it was time to work.

Reporters and paparazzi surged forward…

"Young Master Cao! Young Master Cao!"

"General Manager Cao!"

"General Manager Cao, may we ask—"

"Mr. Cao, I’m from XX Media!"

"Cao—"

Cao Cheng was taken aback.

Despite his long-standing fame and encounters with the press,

he had rarely seen such a chaotic, frenzied scramble like today.

A closer look revealed an intense hunger for answers in the eyes of every reporter and paparazzo.

The desperation was palpable—

almost scorching in its intensity.

Bystanders wondered, Which celebrity is this?

Some younger onlookers recognized Young Master Cao, gasping before pulling out their latest smartphones, handheld DVs, or calling friends to spread the word.

……

Before long,

the crowd only grew thicker.

The hospital, clever as ever, dispatched security to maintain order.

Let’s just say—

if word got out that a tycoon like Young Master Cao was receiving treatment at their private hospital, their reputation would skyrocket.

No one would pass up that kind of publicity.

Under the hospital administration’s arrangement, a conference room was provided for an impromptu press session—

with Young Master Cao’s consent, of course.

Reporters set up their equipment while paparazzi crammed into the back rows.

The hundred-seat room filled up instantly.

Twenty minutes later,

Cao Cheng sat at the head of the table, observing the scene.

What was meant to be a quick Q&A had turned into a full-blown press conference—something even Young Master Cao hadn’t anticipated.

"Let’s begin, everyone."

"Seeing those eager, investigative expressions, I know today won’t end peacefully. Fine—let’s make it mutual."

"But a warning: if your questions cross the line, don’t blame me for my bluntness."

"We’ll go in order, starting from my left… Wait, no—second row, sixth seat. That lovely lady, you first."

"……"

"……"

The reporters exchanged exasperated glances.

This is what he calls ‘order’?

Everyone turned to look—and sure enough, the woman was stunning.

Classic Young Master Cao, flaunting his own rules without a care.

The young woman, flustered, stood up. "General Manager Cao, hello."

"Hello to you too. What’s your name?"

"Lan Tian."

"Beautiful name. Had lunch yet?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"Perfect timing—neither have I. Care to join me later?"

"Absolutely!"

"……"

"……"

The room collectively groaned.

Have you no shame?

Or do you just not care if this gets out?

Well…

He really didn’t.

Young Master Cao was publicly single, no longer young, and for a billionaire of his stature, such antics carried no consequences.

After all, he wasn’t some idolized heartthrob.

Many male reporters sighed, lamenting their lack of feminine charm.

"What did you want to ask?" Cao Cheng smiled, his tone warm.

The reporter replied, "General Manager Cao, rumors suggest you were in the maternity ward today. Some claim you fathered a secret child. Is there any truth to this?"

Really?

No interest in global affairs, just gossip?

Cao Cheng raised an eyebrow. "That’s beyond absurd. Today’s not about me—it’s my old man who’s just welcomed a baby girl into the family."

"Huh?"

"……"

He waved a hand. "Let’s skip the family matters. I trust everyone here understands the sensitivity around newborns?"

"So, when reporting this, keep it brief."

"Of course, if anyone’s reckless enough to sensationalize it… consider yourselves warned."

His gaze swept the room—sharp as a blade.

Several reporters stiffened, their opportunistic thoughts evaporating under that chilling stare.

They didn’t realize it was the weight of his aura.

Young Master Cao’s recent victories—outmaneuvering international rivals—had cemented his reputation as a strategic, untouchable titan. Only a fool would dare provoke him now.

"Next." Cao Cheng’s smile returned, instantly lightening the mood.

……

"General Manager Cao." A male reporter stood. "What’s your take on the Betten family’s internal strife and the alleged matricide?"

"How else would I take it? Seated, of course."

"……"

"Pfft—"

"But!"

Cao Cheng let out a sigh and said, "After reading about it, I feel deeply regretful. This was a century-old family. Although Old Betten was surrounded by negative controversies—living an extravagant life, evading taxes, even being reported by his own daughter who claimed he had mental issues and had bribed high-ranking officials..."

"But death extinguishes all grievances, so I won’t say much more. In any case, the grand unification that Oulai failed to achieve, I will accomplish it. Consider it my tribute to the old master."

Wow.

He really dares to say that.

A reporter pressed further, "Mr. Cao, aren’t you worried these remarks might provoke a joint boycott from domestic and international competitors?"

Cao Cheng chuckled, "If they could boycott me, wouldn’t they have done it already? Oh, now that you mention it, I almost forgot—they did try. So? What were the consequences? Well, actually, there was one consequence: it pushed us to develop our own X serum. So, once again, I’d like to thank them."

"Besides, it’s not that I look down on our international peers. Playing fair, they’re no match for us. Playing dirty? I’m the godfather of that game!"

The reporters were thrilled.

They scribbled furiously in their notebooks—this was exactly the kind of material they wanted.

Why were these so-called "uncrowned kings" of journalism always so polite to Young Master Cao?

Aside from his wealth and influence, wasn’t it because they never left an interview with him empty-handed?

They didn’t even need to twist his words or fabricate conflicts—Young Master Cao created the drama himself, complete with evidence.

As Young Master Cao let loose, the atmosphere at the press conference grew even more heated.

The topics kept expanding—from cosmetics to the upcoming third season of The Voice, which was about to premiere but still hadn’t secured a title sponsor.

When asked whether the sponsorship delay was part of Young Master Cao’s scheme, he naturally denied it—at least on the surface. But the smirk on his face made it clear there was more to it, his grin practically oozing mischief.

Finally, a reporter from a financial newspaper asked a serious question.

"Mr. Cao, everyone knows you as the 'Eastern Stock God' with unique insights into finance. What’s your take on the recent hype around cryptocurrencies?"

Cao Cheng pointed at the reporter and said, "Now that’s a good question. First, you butter me up, then try to fish for insider info? You want to know if there’s money to be made, right?"

The reporter smiled and nodded.

The surrounding journalists laughed good-naturedly. The mood was relaxed now, no longer confrontational.

A few who didn’t understand cryptocurrencies whispered to their colleagues or acquaintances, asking what this was all about.

Cao Cheng said, "Well, let me be honest. In the secondary market, plenty of people lose money during bull runs, and plenty make money during bear markets. So whether you lose or gain isn’t about the market—it’s about the individual."

"As for cryptocurrencies, I’ve done some research."

"How should I put this? I don’t consider it a currency. At best, it’s a commodity—an encrypted algorithmic commodity."

"Right now, most countries don’t enforce strict regulations because not many people understand it."

"But here’s what I’ll say: this thing can make you rich, or it can bankrupt you. Play if you want, but be careful!"

Cao Cheng didn’t spell it out too plainly.

He knew all too well the chaos these currencies would bring in the future and how many lives would be ruined.

But he couldn’t say it.

From the dreams of his past life, Cao Cheng—though no expert—had lived a hundred years as a "time traveler." He knew too much.

Before, he might not have fully grasped the implications.

But after years of growth and study, he could now connect the dots between events and their future consequences, reverse-engineering the schemes hidden beneath the surface.

These schemes couldn’t be spoken of.

Nor should they be touched!

They were part of a larger game.

In short,

You have to ask—who created this thing?

On the surface, it looks like the work of some Japanese-sounding name, but that’s not the truth.

This person published the whitepaper during the 2008 financial crisis—a timing that’s highly significant.

After that, they vanished. Even now, no one knows who they are. Not in twenty years, not in thirty.

Countless hackers and intelligence agencies worldwide have failed to uncover their real identity.

Doesn’t that tell you something?

This wasn’t the work of one person or even a small team.

This was part of the game.

Just a game with a very, very long timeline.

...

The interview wrapped up in less than half an hour.

The reporters left satisfied, and so did Cao Cheng—he’d harvested plenty of emotional energy.

Once the interview details went public, that energy would multiply.

Sure enough, as snippets of the interview spread, the gossip about his alleged illegitimate child quickly died down.

A handful of comments praised "Old Cao" for his vigor, with some even asking Young Master Cao to share his father’s health secrets.

But most people were focused on the title sponsorship for The Voice Season 3.

Especially since Young Master Cao had previously outmaneuvered Oulai, a move that still drew laughs whenever it came up.

One couldn’t help but admire Young Master Cao’s cunning.

This guy… is downright ruthless.

As for his habit of clashing with peers, Young Master Cao’s fans eat it up.

The majority of his fanbase consists of female admirers drawn to his looks.

The rest are male fans who relish watching him engage in verbal battles—pure chaos enthusiasts.

So,

when the interview clip surfaced, these male fans flooded the comment sections of major cosmetic brands’ websites or even called customer service directly, eagerly stirring the pot on Young Master Cao’s behalf.

It pissed off quite a few people.

Vincent even spoke up, ranting to the media with a lengthy statement, later translated as: "Mr. Vincent says Cao Cheng is a small man drunk on success and advises him not to get too arrogant."

Cao Cheng fired back: "Shouldn’t you be rushing back for your queen’s funeral before she rots? Hurry up, or the princess will kick the bucket soon too."

"Also, a heads-up to domestic cosmetic manufacturers: if you’ve got the strength, the ambition, and global aspirations… send someone to discuss the X-serum collaboration with General Manager Xu. International brands, sit tight for now—supply’s limited. Get in line and wait for me to feel generous enough to pick you."

"This is discrimination—racial discrimination!" Vincent shouted at the press.

"Then go complain to the UN," Cao Cheng shot back.

"…"