Quick to forget a beating after a good meal

Cao Cheng's theory was flawless.

That's just how it is when you have a good memory.

Well-versed in the classics of various schools, he could effortlessly quote authoritative sources at will.

Tang Xin frowned slightly.

Right now, she wasn’t in the mood to admire handsome men—after all, her money was tied up in this… along with the funds she managed.

It was an astronomical sum.

Clients paid hefty management fees every year precisely for the expertise of professionals like her.

Sure, the industry had its fair share of parasites.

But there was at least… one decent one.

Forget about making profits for now—her primary principle was ensuring investors didn’t lose their capital.

If the market correction turned severe, she’d have to act early.

If anyone else had warned her of a major downturn, she wouldn’t have believed them—she had her own judgment, after all.

But the man before her…

This was none other than the undefeated "Stock God Ao Tian."

Add to that her excellent first impression of Young Master Cao.

Both professionally and personally, emotionally and rationally, she leaned toward trusting Cao Cheng.

Tang Xin spoke gravely, "From what I’ve seen, around the 3900-point mark, there’s substantial capital forming a bottom, and many sectors are at their lowest levels. If the index breaks below 3900 and hits 3800, it’ll be a disaster, shaking investor confidence."

"Retail investors don’t think."

"Most of them, I mean. They just follow the herd, and they’re skittish. Once it drops below 3800, the market could collapse like an avalanche, completely destroying overall confidence and momentum."

"At that point, it won’t be institutions or big players selling off—it’ll be the small-time retail investors. The herd mentality will take over, and no rescue effort will work."

"Our market is dominated by retail investors, after all."

Tang Xin’s assessment wasn’t wrong.

But…

This year was different.

Foreign capital was in the mix.

Especially nowadays,

just a nudge of capital, paired with hype from overseas institutions, could lure retail investors back, driving the market up.

The worship of foreign trends was rampant these days.

……

Unfortunately, no matter what Tang Xin said,

Cao Cheng never revealed how deep the correction would ultimately go.

That was proprietary information.

And besides…

Tang Xin was smart enough not to ask for Cao Cheng’s target price. That would’ve crossed a line—they weren’t that close.

She could only brace herself and consider worse scenarios.

And that was only because she was giving "Stock God Ao Tian" face. Anyone else, and she wouldn’t have bothered.

3800?

3700?

3600 at most…

From 4170 down to 3600—what kind of drop was that? Unthinkable.

A plunge like that would shatter any remaining confidence.

Right now, Tang Xin wasn’t in the mood for romance. After chatting for a while—enough to consider them acquainted—she declined staying for dinner and left.

She needed a quiet space to think this through.

It was the weekend; she still had time to strategize.

Would the market shift when trading resumed next week?

She had to review her firm’s data and the analyses of industry heavyweights to corroborate Young Master Cao’s claims.

She was inclined to believe him.

But she needed verification to fully commit.

Otherwise, she’d trust the market—and herself—more.

If she didn’t even believe in herself, she wouldn’t have gotten this far.

……

After Tang Xin left,

Second Sister finally spoke up.

"What’s with the riddles? Why didn’t you tell her how much it’ll drop? Is that a secret?"

Second Sister was clueless.

Money didn’t faze her, and finance? She had zero understanding—nine out of ten holes unplugged, leaving just one still blocked!

"Is that a secret?" she repeated.

Know three days ahead, prosper for ten thousand years—ever heard of that?

And why should he tell her?

Did she pay him management fees?

Consultation fees?

She’s a competitor, for heaven’s sake!

The fact that he’d even shared what he did was only because she was pretty… no, because of Second Sister’s face.

Cao Cheng shot her an exasperated look. "If you don’t get it, just shut up."

Second Sister: "……"

Cao Cheng opened his mouth. "Ahhh~ honeydew."

Instinctively, Second Sister picked up a toothpick from the fruit platter, speared a piece of honeydew, and handed it to him.

Cao Cheng ate it in one bite—sweet and delicious.

But Second Sister froze.

Why had she automatically fed him?

Habit?

So annoying.

[Ding~ Negative emotions…]

Critical hit.

Second Sister flung the toothpick away, scowling. "I think you’ve trained before. Let’s spar?"

What a lunatic.

Cao Cheng gave her a sidelong glance.

Fighting her might earn him some negative emotion points,

but stringing her along yielded more—and the gains were infinite.

He shook his head. "I don’t fight."

"Your build says otherwise," Second Sister insisted.

Cao Cheng sighed. "Does training mean I have to fight?"

He continued lecturing her, "Martial arts is about external conditioning—strengthening the body."

"And internal cultivation—facing danger without fear!"

"It’s about attaining a state of mind, a refinement of character, a harmony with nature… not about brawling."

"I don’t know who taught you, but if your master is like you, I’d say he won’t live long."

"Throughout history, those who practiced true martial arts but sought violence all met untimely ends."

"Master Zhang lived to 218 precisely because he never fought."

"Second Sister."

"You."

"Need more training."

"In discipline!"

With the air of a seasoned sage, Cao Cheng stood, shook his head, sighed, and walked away.

Leaving Second Sister behind, her face twisted in frustration.

+100

+199

+299

+599

+1999…

……

Cao Cheng didn’t know the exact details of the secondary market’s movements.

His dreams hadn’t provided fine-grained events—just broad headlines.

Like how high the surge would go, how steep the correction would be, which speculative stocks would skyrocket, which small-caps would face maximum penalties, which blue-chips would…

That was all he knew.

But now, armed with theoretical knowledge, it was enough.

He knew the peak this time—4333 points!

Then the correction would bottom at… 3400!

A sheer, thousand-point freefall, like a raging flood or a cascading waterfall—utterly terrifying.

Major news outlets would cover it.

But it’d last only a day or two before rebounding, surging back within a week, then dropping again, then rising…

A relentless tug-of-war.

Scaring the amateurs out of the market—just before the bull run arrived.

Investors were so foolish…

No!

Investors were simple. When prices rose, they gained confidence; when they fell, they panicked.

Up and down, confidence came and went, until they grew numb and timid.

Yet these same people were profit-chasers.

In one word? They remembered the feast but forgot the beating.

When the bull market arrived, they’d forget past losses and crashes, rushing in with everything they had…

Hear that? Buy now or miss out! Hurry, get in fast, quick—!

And then they’d be left holding the bag at the peak.

By 2025, some still wouldn’t have broken even.

Now that’s what you call stock gods!

These folks were like Buffett—holding for decades without flinching. Steady as a rock!

……

So now, over the weekend, Cao Cheng called his investment advisor, instructing him to gather the traders for a meeting.

He ordered them to prepare for risk control next week.

Liquidate what should be liquidated.

And even what shouldn’t.

The index is only at 4170 now, still far from reaching the peak of 4333, but Cao Cheng has to exit—any later and he’d be buried.

Of course, he’d already liquidated part of his holdings earlier.

Right now, there’s still a few hundred million left in the market.

Besides, when the crash comes, he won’t buy at the absolute bottom either. With such a large capital pool, he’ll start buying in batches early, beginning at 3600 and continuing all the way down to 3400. Then, he’ll just wait for the surge to 6000…

That’s the plan, anyway.

Not like Young Master Cao has to lift a finger himself.

He pays his team those hefty salaries precisely so they can execute his orders flawlessly when it matters.