Flint Red

For Chen Cheng, thirty means interest—the interest rate.
From 3,000, to 100,000, to a million, to ten million, and then to over a hundred million...
An ever-increasing amount of principal, an endless stream of interest.
With money generating money, compounded interest calculations made Chen Cheng exclaim:
This money can't be spent! Absolutely can't be spent! For a lifetime, I can't finish spending it!

Maximize Interest, My Money Grows Infinitely

"Master, just pull over by the side of the road," said Chen Cheng from the back seat to the designated driver.


After getting out of the car, he noticed that Xiao Meier, who usually waited at the door, had not appeared.


The rolling shutter door of the noodle shop was half-closed, revealing only half of the door face, yet a warm, yellow light still shone from inside.


"Asleep?" Chen Cheng locked the car and stooped to go inside.


He looked up towards the staircase and saw that the light on the second floor was still on: "Meier, are you there?"


"Xiao Cheng, you're back?" Xiao Meier's voice came from upstairs, followed by the sound of her walking with a heavy step followed by a light one.


Chen Cheng walked upstairs and said: "I thought you were resting."


Xiao Meier appeared at the top of the stairs, her face devoid of makeup and still rosy from a shower, her wet eyes inexplicably moving.


Chapter 33 My Feet Don't Stink