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

The pre-dawn hours had not yet drawn the curtain on Beijing.


This city, it seems, has never truly had a night, just countless illuminated dawns.


The Da Lao moved steadily through the streets, light and shadow interchanging, the only sounds beside the faint tire noise were the gentle breeze from the vents.


Chen Donghai, who was driving, reported candidly to Chen Cheng seated in the back:


Chen Cheng, who was focused on wiping a lipstick mark from the hem of his shirt, casually asked upon hearing the report: "What did she say?"


"Miss Tong said she didn't see anything."


Upon that answer, Chen Cheng was taken aback for half a second, then smiled, "Good, I know now."


"Also, Xiao Hai. Tomorrow you go look for some houses for sale for me." Chen Cheng instructed, "Preferably near Chaoyang, three-bedroom or four-bedroom suites are both fine."


Chapter 71 unknown's Email