Let the bullet fly a little longer

After his assets surpassed 100 million, Cao Cheng stopped publicly sharing screenshots of his earnings.

There were various considerations behind this decision.

But ultimately, it boiled down to the fact that even if he didn’t reveal it, someone else eventually would. Money can’t be hidden, and neither can fame.

At this point, there was no need for him to force a show-off—that would just come off as tacky.

Big-name influencers would naturally defend him anyway!

Before, given Cao Cheng’s technical skills, the average person couldn’t doxx him.

But now, with his capital pool growing explosively, even the regulators in his hometown had taken notice.

You could call him a retail investor, but it depended on what kind of retail investor.

If you invest 50 million, you’re undeniably a whale.

And when you turn 5 million into 100 million… even the local pension fund will cast a concerned glance your way.

Banks and securities firms would also reach out.

These past few days had been particularly troublesome for Cao Cheng. After injecting another 100 million, both banks and securities firms called him.

Their tone carried 30% flattery, 30% sycophancy, 30% bootlicking, and a full 91% groveling!

Mostly, they were pitching margin trading services.

Transaction fees were lowered, and he was assigned a senior broker—or rather, an investment advisor.

This person existed to cater to high-net-worth clients like Cao Cheng, handling anything they desired.

Whether it was providing the latest market insights, in-depth analysis, customized investment strategies, or even global financial trends… hell, they’d even run errands to buy lunch.

If Cao Cheng needed something, one call was all it took—even if it meant the advisor had to crawl out of bed at 3 AM to get it done.

And he wouldn’t even have to pay the guy’s salary.

In short:

Money makes you king. A whole crowd would line up to serve you.

The only question was whether you’d give them the chance.

……

In the past,

Cao Cheng avoided leverage because his capital was limited, and his understanding of the market was shallow. One wrong move could wipe him out.

But now, he had the qualifications.

Not only was his capital pool massive, but he’d also mastered about 70-80% of the theory.

Plus, the market was on an upswing, and the trend was irreversible.

As long as he allocated his assets wisely—blue-chip stocks, micro-caps, meme stocks—there was no risk of a margin call.

In fact, when the crisis hit next year, some heavyweight stocks would even serve as hedges. The dividends alone would outperform bank deposits.

The essence of money was simple: with enough assets, your flexibility and resilience became unmatched.

That’s why,

whenever a major crisis struck and global assets were wiped out, the middle class always suffered the most.

Because they had money.

But not enough.

It was like gambling—if you had deep pockets, you could keep doubling down until you won.

But if you were broke… you wouldn’t even get to see the final card before being kicked off the table, losing everything you’d put in.

Money was brutally straightforward.

……

A café.

Cao Cheng had arranged to meet his broker here.

In Zhonghai, coffee meetings were standard etiquette.

His investment advisor turned out to be… a man.

Goddammit…

Where was the protagonist’s luck?

Shouldn’t the broker have been a fresh graduate with long legs and black stockings?

What was this middle-aged dude with a receding hairline doing here?

But…

Credit where it was due—the guy was professional. He came loaded with internal reports, the kind only experts had access to.

The market analyses covered both domestic and international trends, with a heavy emphasis on the latter.

Seemed like they were trying to lure Cao Cheng into playing overseas, since the domestic market was too small.

Cao Cheng skimmed the documents, absorbing pages at a glance.

The content was extensive.

Naturally, there were details about U.S. housing loans and mortgages.

But…

No one had predicted next year’s crisis.

Still, the reports hinted at the high risks lurking in instruments like MBS and CDS—credit default swaps.

Even if the big three U.S. rating agencies stamped them with AAA ratings.

Risk was risk.

Everyone knew it, but faced with profits, greed took over.

And where there was greed, human nature’s worst traits emerged.

Rationality went out the window.

So,

the entire financial world was gripped by a colossal misjudgment.

They all saw the risks but assumed they were manageable.

This included U.S. investment firms, the Treasury Secretary, even the Fed.

Even some domestic institutions had poured money into these instruments—and not small amounts, either.

When the bomb went off next year…

The biggest losers, aside from the U.S., would be these Chinese financial players.

(Note: We’ll gloss over this. Those who get it, get it. For those who don’t, explaining it would take chapters.)

……

……

A few days later,

the paperwork was done.

Bank loans and institutional leverage turned his 200 million into 800 million, with fees and commissions negotiated to a bare minimum.

He also agreed to certain terms, like parking future funds with the lending bank.

After all, the bank had practically given him an interest-free loan this time.

Only the securities margin carried a nominal rate.

But it was negligible.

Even a modest uptick in the market would render those costs meaningless.

Of course,

with more capital to deploy, Cao Cheng hired professional traders to execute his orders.

Contrary to novel tropes, none of them argued with him or dismissed him as clueless.

They were just there for the commission.

Why piss off the boss?

They got paid whether the trades won or lost.

With help handling the workload, Young Master Cao had time to kill—mostly shitposting on forums.

Mid-March.

The index was still stuck at 3000 points.

The traders executed smoothly, accumulating positions without causing unnatural spikes.

Then,

Cao Cheng dropped a post titled: "Liftoff!"

Content: "Short-term target: 4000 points. Not even Jesus can stop it. My words."

Haters replied: "Shut the hell up."

Cao Cheng fired back: "Screw your mom…"

This was forum culture—where men of refined temperament exchanged heartfelt greetings involving each other’s ancestors.

……

Two months flew by.

Late May.

Three meme stocks had delivered insane gains.

Meanwhile, the emotional feedback from his followers was off the charts, while his four "sisters" at home were slipping in the rankings.

Turns out, money players had mood swings wilder than Cao Cheng ever imagined.

Sometimes, he’d wake up to find a diamond-tier treasure chest waiting—without lifting a finger.

Since mid-March, his "Liftoff!" post had been pinned to the top.

Because every single week, the market surged.

Even the worst week saw a 2% gain.

By late May, when it smashed past 4100 points…

The post achieved god-tier status.

A "HOT" badge glowed beside the pin.

Hundreds of thousands of replies.

A rare sight.

The haters dwindled, replaced by regretful whiners.

Regret for missing the boat.

Regret for not believing sooner—so much regret they were shitting themselves in frustration.

Some even blamed "Stock God Ao Tian" for being too arrogant, which made them rebel and cash out in March. Now they were stuck watching the rally from the sidelines, feeling like utter morons.

These people churned out endless streams of salt—daily, weekly, monthly, every waking moment.

It seems that just the thought of being out of the market, or seeing others rake in huge profits, fills them with endless negativity—emotions that only grow heavier by the minute.

Poor them.

But a windfall for Mr. Cao!

...

There was another incident during these two months.

April 2nd.

New Century Financial Corporation in the U.S. declared bankruptcy, drowning in $8.2 billion of debt!

This marked the opening act of the crisis.

But reality has a twisted sense of humor. A decade from now, everyone will recognize what New Century's collapse truly meant.

Yet, in the moment? No one batted an eye.

Or rather,

everyone believed it could still be salvaged!

Especially Bear Stearns, charging ahead as the leader, frantically buying up those bonds and driving the index up over 20% in no time.

The crisis seemed to vanish into thin air.

And so, the world carried on—sipping red wine, cutting into steaks, singing along.

Let the bullets fly a little longer!!!