Chapter 54

On June 27th, at the New York Yacht Marina, Yang Cheng bid farewell to Miranda Kerr with a kiss and saw off the last wave of guests, taking a long breath.

The night before, they had set sail from New York and headed south. After a day of revelry in Miami, they returned overnight. While the guests left in high spirits, Yang Cheng wearily leaned against the Audi S8, requesting a cigarette from Allen to light.

"Aren't you not smoking?" Allen climbed up on the tires and settled on the engine cover of his Cavalier XV. The car's front end dipped as the hefty man found his perch, displaying surprising agility.

Hansen and Andrew automatically positioned themselves left and right, maintaining a distance of about 10 meters within Yangcheng's radius. The wharf provided a flat surface and a wide field of vision, enabling them to spot any unexpected situations at a glance.

Yang Cheng took a drag of the cigarette, savoring the smoke before exhaling with practiced ease. Despite smoking infrequently, his movements were smooth and unhurried.

"I learned it back in college, but I rarely indulge. This stuff is bad for your health, so don't pick up the habit." Yang Cheng took a couple more puffs, then tossed the cigarette on the ground, stomping it out.

Allen nodded, expressing his preference for cigars over cigarettes, appreciating their mellow aroma.

"Oil prices have continued to decline in the past two days, nearing the $70 mark. If this trend continues, $50 is just around the corner."

Yang Cheng grinned with delight. There's nothing better than making money to dispel fatigue. "Did you calculate it? If we close the position at the expected price, how much can we make?"

"I didn't calculate it precisely because we increased leverage later on. Based on the expected price of $55, if all positions are closed, the profit should be around $2 billion..."

"Only $2 billion?" Yang Cheng seemed a bit dissatisfied. Making just $2 billion after such a significant move in the market felt like a modest gain. This amount would barely cover his repayment to Yuanshan Capital for the Delta Air Lines shares and the funds needed for the acquisition of Forum Publishing Company. The money was spent before he even had it, and it stung a bit.

Allen, unaware of Yang Cheng's broader plans, was dumbfounded, as if he had encountered a mythical creature. "Damn, $2 billion isn't small at all! How much is too much? $200 billion?"

"You're a fool. I don't have that much money."

Yang Cheng found Allen's reaction annoying; who complains about having too much money?

"You're the fool. You give away $2 billion like you're asking for directions on the street. Isn't that a lot?" Allen hopped out of the car, defiant, causing the ground to tremble with his weight.

"Damn it, lose some weight already. Get so fat, and the FBI might detain you. You're practically a walking earthquake epicenter."

Yang Cheng and Allen bantered in the morning sea breeze, discussing various matters, before each got into their respective cars and headed home.

Allen can go home to sleep, but Yang Cheng can't. Johnny Utah, the owner of the video store renting the storefront from Yang Cheng, called late last night, and Yang Cheng, in the midst of exchanging body fluids with Miranda Kerr, agreed to discuss matters and asked him to come to the store.

Now, with a clearer head, Yang Cheng wonders if Johnny Utah hit the Powerball again. He contemplates his own luck, thinking about buying a few lottery tickets. After all, he's had his fair share of luck.

Half an hour later, the dark green Audi S8 stops in front of a Turkish restaurant on 46th Street. Andrew grabs breakfast for the three of them. Yang Cheng orders a box of kapsalon—a tasty combination of vegetable salad, French fries, and Turkish barbecue, recommended by Andrew's family. Yang Cheng takes a few bites in the car, instructs Andrew to park at the front, and walks with Hansen to the video store. After two days of being mostly sedentary, his muscles are feeling stiff and less flexible.

Walking slowly, Yang Cheng does some stretching exercises, hearing the friction sound between muscles and bones around his tired shoulders. He sighs inwardly, "I hope I'm not getting a frozen shoulder at a young age."

New York has a mild and humid climate due to its proximity to the Atlantic Ocean and the influence of the Gulf Stream. However, the approaching July means rising temperatures, increasing precipitation, and the onset of a hot and humid summer, intensified by the urban heat island effect.

After a few stretches, Yang Cheng feels the muscles loosening up. He exhales and turns to Hansen, asking, "Hansen, do you have any fitness methods suitable for civilians? Something effective but not too strenuous."

Hansen contemplates the request. It's a challenging combination. How can there be a fitness method that's both easy and effective? He realizes that inventing such a method would be highly profitable.

Military training aims to push soldiers to their limits, making them tired but not allowing them to give up. However, Yang Cheng, being the boss, has different requirements. Hansen recalls a set of warm-up exercises from an exchange forum, originally developed by an Israeli Mossad agent. These exercises, designed for small spaces and behind enemy lines, are meant to keep agents warm and aid recovery.

This set of exercises, gradually adopted by Mossad and special forces, serves as a foundation for various close combat skills. Hansen suggests this routine to Yang Cheng, emphasizing its simplicity and effectiveness. Yang Cheng finds the idea intriguing, as it seems less complicated than yoga. As long as each movement is executed correctly and sufficient time is invested, the benefits should rival an hour of sweating in the gym.

Deciding to learn this routine from Hansen, Yang Cheng reflects on his previous intentions to exercise and realizes it's time to take action.

Well, it's actually because of laziness and tiredness. It's better to hold a woman to exercise during that time. Anyway, it's all exercise. It's all sweating. What's different.

Turning the corner, is Johnny Utah's video store. Usually, it opens at 10 o'clock in the morning. It's useless to open early. No one loves music to the point of visiting the video store without going to work early in the morning.

There is a sign of suspension of business hanging on the glass door, but the mechanical anti-theft door has not been put down. Through the window, one can vaguely see people walking around inside.

Without hesitating, Yang Cheng pushed the door directly in.

"sorry, it's not business hours...oh, it's you jason, good morning"

Johnny Utah heard the sound of opening the door and thought it was a customer who hadn't seen the sign. As a result, Yang Cheng walked in in a shorts and shirt beach outfit.

"Good morning, Johnny, I just got off the boat and came here by the way. I thought you hadn't come yet." He casually explained the reason why he came early, and picked up a Beatles record and turned it over.

Perhaps the reason is that it is not yet open. There is no music in the store, and the empty lobby looks a bit quiet. Johnny's loud voice echoes every word he says.

"Do you like the Beatles?" Johnny took a rag, wiped his beloved record personally, and walked over and asked.

Yang Cheng seemed to have heard the news of the UFO's arrival, and leaned back exaggeratedly, spreading his hands, "comeon Johnny, who doesn't love the Beatles?"

"heyjude?"

"heyjude!"

"Haha..."

The two looked at each other and laughed, bumping their fists.

Johnny Utah let out a sigh of relief, and suddenly sighed, "Unexpectedly, there are still young people who like the Beatles now, and suddenly found that you are not that hateful, Jason, you are a great guy at this moment."

Yang Cheng can understand that 50 years ago, in the era when there was no mobile phone, no Internet, and TV was still not popular, how much joy the appearance of the Beatles brought to people, as well as the endless memories nowadays, these are not felt in the fast food era. The fun of chasing stars, I can't feel the kind of moving by the simplicity of creation.

put down the record and flicked his hand across the cover. . .

There are always people who compare Michael Jackson with the Beatles. Who is greater than the Beatles. In fact, it's not necessary. Michael Jackson gives people more sensory stimulation, screaming, arrogant twisting, subversive spacewalking, etc. Human adrenaline soars.

And beatles can bring people's spiritual resonance even more, writing simple lyrics into the soul and singing into the heart.

Just like at the opening ceremony of the 2012 London Olympics, Paul McCartney made his final appearance and drove 80,000 people to sing heyjude in unison. The shocking scene has stirred people's hearts today.

Maybe Paul McCartney, in his 70s, no longer has a clear and loud voice~www.mtlnovel.com~, but the touch that he brings to people has not been reduced by one point.

Putting away the memories, Yang Cheng looked at Johnny Utah. It seemed that compared to the last time we met, this guy is not so sharp. Although this Spartan-like figure can never be described implicitly, it may be taken away from him. Regarding the turban, I felt that there was no such strong contrast last time. Without the turban, the pirate aura on Johnny's body has been weakened a lot.

"Johnny, do you look like you are ready to go on?" He went straight to the subject without circumstance.

"Hey, Johnny baby, are you here?"

Johnny hadn't answered yet, but the sudden voice made Yang Cheng feel numb, and goose bumps surfaced.

buttoned his ears, no hallucinations, right?

Johnny Baby"?

WTF, who has such a heavy taste?

Then, a wave of vibration came from the soles of Yang Cheng's feet.

"咚咚咚...", from far to near.

A sense of sight of Allen rushing over.

Turning back with a trembling heart, a black woman with a visual inspection of 240 kg ran over from the other side of the shelf like a tiger. No way, the bear rushed out of the cage to Johnny Utah.

Have you seen the animal world? It's the same as the Alaskan brown bears waking up from hibernation, their fat burned out, and seeing trout jumping in the river drooling into the water to hunt.

MD, Yang Cheng's two thick abalone-like lips were entangled together, making strange noises from time to time, and the undigested breakfast in his appetite was tumbling.

Yang Cheng covered her eyes, as if she was frightened by watching a horror movie. No wonder Johnny was a little different.

After a long period of trouble, it's springing up.

But why does Yang Cheng think that black lady is more suitable for Allen?