This is what a truly relaxed life feels like.

As expected.

Just as predicted.

The moment Lingling's exclusive interview went live the next day, her fans went wild.

Fans watched Cao Cheng and Lingling perform a mesmerizing four-handed piano duet—their gazes, movements, and chemistry…

They looked absolutely perfect together.

Even the usual jealous backlash was minimal.

Such is the leniency people show toward genuine talent.

Honestly.

It’s the same with some celebrities. If they’re truly gifted and capable, fans are willing to overlook minor missteps.

Even if some stars end up banned for certain controversies—as long as they don’t cross the line—fans still feel it’s a shame, keeping their support alive in the shadows.

That’s the power of talent.

And Cao Cheng isn’t just talented—he’s also loaded. This time, not even his own fans roasted him.

Everyone knows Cao Cheng loves trading barbs with his fans, even joking that his fanbase is his biggest group of haters.

And his fans play along, proudly declaring themselves his "anti-fans."

They’ll criticize him for anything.

Especially when he’s showing off or surrounded by beautiful women—it drives them up the wall.

But this time…

Not a single insult was thrown his way.

Yet the emotional reactions were off the charts—shock, awe, curiosity—all flooding in at once.

Some music enthusiasts could vaguely grasp the depth of his skill.

Though they couldn’t fully dissect it, they recognized Cao Cheng’s piano prowess was no joke, easily on par with Lingling’s.

A few attention-seeking piano professors even jumped on the bandwagon, reposting the interview and claiming Cao Cheng had wasted his potential in business—he should’ve been a pianist.

That left fans speechless.

"Wasted in business?"

Are you even listening to yourself?

The man’s a billionaire! If he’d pursued piano, at best he’d be slightly more famous than Lingling!

Seriously.

It dawned on many just then—this Cao guy seemed to excel at anything he touched.

Which only made them angrier.

Why?

Why does everything good land in his lap?

Damn it.

What’s a businessman doing playing piano this well?

Compared to him, the rest of us look like utter failures.

Forget piano—I bought a guitar for a few hundred bucks and still can’t even manage basic finger placement, let alone chords.

In a fit of rage.

Might as well smash the damn thing.

What’s the point of even trying?

…

Unexpectedly, the interview brought Cao Cheng a tidal wave of emotional engagement.

May.

During the holiday, Cao Cheng posted a casual update.

A photo from a family trip.

The shot captured a breathtaking bird’s-eye view from a mountain peak, though crowded with tourists.

Cao Cheng would’ve preferred avoiding holidays—too many people, too much traffic.

But with most of the family tied up with work, this was the only time everyone could gather.

Even then, his second sister had to pull a shift.

So they went early, but the crowds were already swelling.

The photo showcased the summit’s beauty.

The caption was brief but layered.

It read: "Made it to the top, but it’s packed. Everyone, stay safe. If you’re here while it’s still manageable, enjoy the view and start heading down. No one wants to be stuck up here when it’s standing-room-only. Nights this month? Bitterly cold. Bone-chillingly cold!"

"…"

"Feels like there’s a hidden message here?"

"Same. It makes sense on the surface—holiday crowds ruin the scenery—but there’s gotta be more."

"'Sell high'?"

"Wow, that subtle?"

"I get it… But didn’t he say 'sell high' last month too? Plenty of people made bank this month."

"And you trust him? He just wants your shares—to scare you into selling so he can buy in. No one’s falling for that."

"…"

Some believed him.

Others didn’t.

Money clouds judgment.

Once you’ve tasted profits, it’s hard to let go.

…

The following month, post-holiday, the market plummeted, sending a wave of panic sellers scrambling.

Then, a sudden reversal.

By month’s end, it surged—nearly hitting 5,000—before crashing back down to 4,600 in under a week.

June arrived.

Children’s Day.

Cao Cheng celebrated with Little Cao and his sixth sibling, posting another photo.

This one featured his sixth sibling, face lightly blurred, playfully causing mischief.

The caption read: "Happy Children’s Day! Our sixth is having a blast stirring up trouble—real troublemaker, this one. Just got on my nerves, but hey, kids will be kids. Can’t scold or spank, so I’ll let it slide this time. But remember: three strikes. Three strikes! Got it?"

On the surface, it was about parenting.

But fans—especially the market-savvy ones—could read between the lines.

They dissected every ambiguous word like seasoned analysts.

This one?

Context was key.

Someone shouted: "Time to bail. Three strikes is the limit."

"Since April, Cao’s been saying 'sell high.' May was the second warning. Now it’s June—third and final call?"

"Damn it, I don't believe it... But this guy has been yapping for three months straight, and after last month’s crashes at both the beginning and the end, I’m genuinely scared."

"I can’t deal with this sneaky bastard. I was holding steady, but he’s pulled this same stunt at the start of the last three months—I’m done!"

"Feels like it’s peaked now, right? Time to cash out."

"At least 6,000 points. Where are we now? Barely 5,000."

"Exactly. There’s gotta be another 1,000 or 2,000 points left in this."

"Expert XX said it’s definitely hitting 10,000 this time."

"..."

...

After years of building his reputation,

many speculators kept a close eye on Cao Cheng.

Whether they believed him or not, they were watching.

Whether you followed his advice or bet against it, every word from Cao Cheng sent ripples through the market.

Meanwhile,

in the shadows, the Village Management Committee was holding an emergency meeting.

Just as Cao Cheng had predicted during his earlier discussions with them in the capital, the market trends and underlying conditions matched his warnings to the letter.

The committee’s leaders looked grim.

Five trillion in leverage.

Are they out of their minds?

Sure, Cao Cheng had warned them about the broad strokes, but seeing it unfold now left the committee furious.

The deeper they dug, the worse it got.

If Cao Cheng hadn’t spoken up, they might never have noticed—after all, with external enemies and internal traitors working together,

regulators stood little chance of uncovering the scheme before disaster struck.

Thankfully, Young Master Cao had tipped them off.

Still,

back then, he hadn’t spelled everything out. He’d only sketched out how foreign speculators might strike, based on his understanding of finance.

And this was just the beginning.

As Cao Cheng put it, this was only the first shot.

More schemes were coming, all aimed at undermining the renminbi.

If that happened...

The consequences would be unthinkable.

The committee didn’t dare hesitate. They rushed to escalate their findings, reporting up the chain again and again.

By mid-June, the storm had arrived.

From that day on,

the emotional energy Young Master Cao harvested grew exponentially with each passing day.

This was the most devastating chain of collapses in 25 years.

From mid-June to the end of the month, half a month of thousands of stocks hitting limit-downs daily...

Countless leveraged institutions were wiped out.

Margin calls exploded everywhere, especially for those with over 70% collateral—the domino effect was nothing short of apocalyptic.

At the same time,

capital is bloodthirsty.

Smelling the carnage, speculators swooped in, using Hong Kong and Singapore as bases to short the market with high leverage, even deploying high-frequency trading algorithms.

But thanks to Cao Cheng’s warnings,

within a week, the perpetrators behind these quant systems were exposed, and the moles were caught.

The war was on.

...

...

Elsewhere,

Gong Changheng of the Eternal Life Society sent word.

He asked for guidance—how should they handle this?

Because of the Society’s influence, some foreign speculators had stayed on the sidelines despite the temptation, wary of crossing the Eternal Life Society.

They didn’t want to risk offending the Society during their probationary period.

After all, expulsion was always an option.

And let’s be honest—

while shorting could make them a fortune, for families of their stature, a few billion here or there wasn’t make-or-break.

Losing out on 1-2 billion to stay in the Society’s good graces? A fair trade.

So,

when Gong Changheng reached out to Young Master Cao, the message was clear: they were cashing in favors.

Who said foreigners didn’t understand guanxi?

They played the game just fine.

But not everyone was so diplomatic. Many families had internal factions, infighting both within and between clans.

And with sprawling corporate empires under their banners, some financial moves never even reached the higher-ups.

Naturally, once the battle began, some underlings from these families jumped in, eager to join the fight.

...

Cao Cheng told Gong Changheng not to interfere—let them do as they pleased.

The Eternal Life Society was an open club.

It wouldn’t force members to act against their own interests unless it was part of a negotiated exchange.

This was Cao Cheng setting the tone.

He wanted them to know the Society wasn’t about coercion.

But in reality...

Cao Cheng had spent years preparing, laying traps since as far back as 2008.

If these players didn’t join the game, how could he bleed them dry?

Besides,

the Society didn’t need harmony. Internal strife was part of the design.

These foreign elites were already at each other’s throats.

When profits were on the line, they turned on each other faster than anyone.

That was exactly what Cao Cheng wanted.

The art of rulership.

If your underlings got along too well, who would they unite against? You, of course.

So even if they played nice, Cao Cheng would stir the pot.

No peace allowed.

However, the club has just been established and lacks real cohesion at the moment—that won’t do.

They need to genuinely recognize the existence of the Eternal Life Society, even take pride in joining it and working for its cause.

Cao Cheng sent Gong Changheng a message, setting a time for them to gather again.

This time, Cao Cheng planned to unveil some ‘cutting-edge tech’—something to blow their minds.

While harvesting their awe, he’d also reap a wave of loyalty.

Once their devotion to the Eternal Life Society grew strong enough, he could sit back and watch them tear each other apart like dogs.

Toss them the occasional bone and enjoy the spectacle of their scrambling.

Now that’s what you call living the easy life!

Great for cultivation, too.