Let’s not even talk about whether putting letters on stockings would look good.
The real question is…
"Why are we even doing letters? We don’t have a stockings company," Eldest Sister wondered.
"Who says we don’t have a stockings company?"
Cao Cheng’s lips curled up slowly, revealing a sleazy—no, a gentle smile.
Eldest Sister was stunned. "You started another company?"
Cao Cheng shook his head. "Not exactly."
Eldest Sister rolled her eyes.
Cao Cheng quickly added, "But I acquired a few companies and merged them to create a luxury conglomerate."
"…"
Eldest Sister was speechless.
A luxury conglomerate?
Do you even understand what that means?
Just throwing it out there like that?
Cao Cheng continued, "You know my Supreme Gift Box is selling like crazy, priced at less than a million… dirt cheap, really."
Eldest Sister shot him a glare. Less than a million?
999,900…
That’s dirt cheap to you?
"This gift set isn’t just cosmetics—it’s a cultural statement, something worth collecting from the inside out."
"What even is luxury?"
"Some machine-made bag or clothing? That’s not luxury. That’s garbage."
"So, I’m building my own empire—jewelry, jade, fashion, footwear, cosmetics, perfumes, watches, cars… you name it."
"And luxury is inseparable from entertainment. I already have the entertainment industry, so that’s my platform."
"Plus, cosmetics have opened up the global market, putting Miracle on the world stage."
"So…"
"Eldest Sister, come be my CEO. Leave the family business to the managers."
Cao Cheng bared his fangs.
Eldest Sister finally snapped out of it and snapped back, "Not a chance. I’m already exhausted. You want me to take on your mess too? Trying to kill me?"
She knew better—Fifth Brother was the laziest of them all.
Cao Cheng’s eyes gleamed as he laid his cards on the table. "Fine, let’s merge. I’ll fold the entire group into Ren’s Group and pivot straight into luxury."
Eldest Sister scoffed. "You do realize our core business is real estate, right?"
Cao Cheng smirked. "Who says houses can’t be luxury?"
"???"
Eldest Sister was lost.
You could call real estate an investment, a consumer good, even a high-end product.
But luxury?
This…
She didn’t get it.
But Cao Cheng knew exactly where real estate was headed.
He knew when prices would rise—like in the next few years.
And when they’d fall—ten years later.
After this surge, international trade wars would pressure the market, causing a sudden drop.
But…
Whether you looked at Kondratiev cycles or other indices, the rebound was inevitable.
Commodities rise and fall—that’s just how it works.
It’s the same domestically and abroad.
And yet,
most people, swayed by influencers and insider trade wars, simplistically believe population dictates housing prices.
Is that wrong?
Not entirely.
But it’s not that one-dimensional. Housing prices depend on countless factors—population is just one variable, and not even the most critical.
The population argument? Just a way to fool the masses.
So,
every commodity has its cycle.
Cao Cheng’s plan was simple: ride this real estate boom, then prepare for the next upswing when the downturn hits.
It wouldn’t take too long—a few years to stabilize, a few more to fluctuate, then take off again.
And when it did, real estate wouldn’t be the same.
Right now, we’re still on third-generation housing.
No one’s even mentioned fourth-gen yet, let alone knows what it looks like.
Even the most visionary minds only have a vague concept.
Forget fifth-gen or sixth-gen housing.
That stuff looks straight out of sci-fi.
"You know what AI intelligence is?" Cao Cheng asked.
Eldest Sister had a vague idea but neither nodded nor shook her head.
She’d heard of it, sure.
Smart locks, for example—nothing groundbreaking.
"You know what smart integrated housing is?"
Eldest Sister thought for a moment, piecing together the meaning from the words, but shook her head.
"You know what fourth-gen housing is? Urban forest garden architecture!" Cao Cheng pressed.
Eldest Sister frowned. No, she’d never heard of that.
Not in China, not abroad.
If Cao Cheng could read minds, he’d laugh.
This concept wouldn’t emerge for another four years, and even then, few would know about it.
Only when short-video platforms exploded, obliterating information gaps, would the average person learn about these things.
Cao Cheng rambled on, dumping a flood of futuristic ideas into Eldest Sister’s head until she was completely overwhelmed.
At one point, she wondered—weren’t we just talking about letters on stockings?
How did we end up on real estate and corporate mergers?
Still,
though confused, she recognized that Cao Cheng had proposed revolutionary concepts—any one of which could elevate Ren’s Group to new heights.
Take fourth-gen housing, for instance.
Urban forest garden architecture?
Eldest Sister knew:
If Ren’s Group pioneered fourth-gen housing, the industry would never discuss it without mentioning their name.
She was actually excited.
Since her recovery, she’d been all business, rarely this visibly shaken.
She dragged Cao Cheng into hours of discussion.
But no matter how long they talked, it was all abstract.
Words could never match the clarity of visuals.
If Cao Cheng had sketches, she’d grasp it instantly.
But descriptions alone fell short.
…
Half an hour later.
The family trickled in one by one.
The Third and The Fourth sat quietly like students, listening to Cao Cheng’s lecture.
Ren’s mother appeared at some point too.
Cao Cheng waved his hands animatedly, laying out his vision.
Ren’s mother interjected occasionally, as did Eldest Sister.
By the time Second Sister returned, the discussion was winding down.
"So…"
Cao Cheng, parched, took a sip of warm tea handed by The Third and sighed in relief.
Then he declared, "So, who says houses can’t be luxury? I’m not just making luxury real estate—I’m taking this concept global and making the world pay for it."
"But,"
"this luxury isn’t just about new materials. It needs cutting-edge tech—AI, for example, because I’m going full smart integration. Even the smallest lightbulb will respond to voice commands."
"All wiring will be embedded in the walls."
"Also, there’s high-tech appliances. The ones we have now are pretty trash—fridges don’t even have Wi-Fi. My iPhone’s signal sucks, don’t you know?"
"??"
"??"
The whole room froze.
What did that even mean?
They couldn’t understand a word.
But it sounded kind of impressive.
Still…
Why would a fridge need Wi-Fi?
Does a fridge even need to be online?
No one could wrap their heads around it. After all, Wi-Fi had only become widespread in the last three years or so.
Cao Cheng didn’t bother explaining the details. In the future, what couldn’t be connected to the internet? If it wasn’t online, could it even be called a proper appliance?
The bottom line was simple:
If others don’t have it, I do. If others have it, mine’s better.
It might seem complicated, but it’s actually straightforward.
At Cao Cheng’s research institute, they could develop and share all the necessary tech with domestic companies—just charging a small patent fee.
Call it a service charge, right?
What’s going to be the most expensive thing in the future?
Cao Cheng could tell you: service fees.
And not the kind you pay to waiters at a restaurant—this was about patent licensing.
Otherwise, why would Cao Cheng hoard so many patents?
...
Long story short,
If Cao Cheng wanted to, he could roll out fourth-generation residential tech within a year.
"So, what do you think? Want to go in on this together?" Cao Cheng looked at Eldest Sister.
Eldest Sister instinctively glanced at Ren’s mother.
Ren’s mother smiled faintly. "The company’s in your hands now. You figure it out."
With that, she left, taking the little "gas tank" from Old Cao’s arms.
Eldest Sister hesitated.
Truthfully, she was tempted.
A lot of this was new to her, and she wasn’t entirely sure how it worked.
But it felt promising—a whole new direction.
If it worked out, the Ren Group could skyrocket.
But if they merged, would it still be the Ren Group?
Her biggest fear was losing the family business.
Not that Cao Cheng would push her out after a takeover, but if the name changed or the company restructured, how would she face her mother?
...
"I’ll think about it," Eldest Sister said, standing up.
She needed to talk to Ren’s mother.
Even though Ren’s mother had handed over control, Eldest Sister still believed the company was her mother’s lifeline.
The Ren family’s lifeline.
But in reality…
What lifeline did the Ren family even have left?
All daughters.
The "root" had long been gone.
In the end, everything would belong to the Cao family.
Like Ren’s mother’s current lifeline—the little "gas tank"—who was already a Cao.
(¬_¬) Meh.
...
The Second, The Third, and The Fourth were left baffled.
They’d arrived late and had no idea Cao Cheng and Eldest Sister were discussing a merger. They thought it was just about some new tech.
Only after Ren’s mother and Eldest Sister left did they catch on.
The Fourth narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you little brat. You’re trying to swallow up the Ren Group, take over the Ren family, and kick us all out?"
Cao Cheng laughed. "Nonsense. It’s a merger, not a takeover. The Ren Group stays the Ren Group—just with 'Miracle' added to the front."
"Officially: Ren’s Miracle Group!"
"Full name: In the East, There Exists a Group of Dreamers Who Believe That Under the Leadership of Cao Cheng and His Eldest Sister, They Will Create the Miracle of Life Co., Ltd.!"
"And even if I were kicking someone out, it’d just be you. I’d never let the others go."
With that,
Cao Cheng smugly slung an arm around The Second and The Third’s shoulders, grinning at The Fourth.
The Second scoffed.
The Third smiled faintly.
The Fourth bared her teeth. "You’re dead!"
"Prepare to die!!"

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.”

for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?

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?"

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.