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

"This side is the master bedroom, and next to it I had originally planned to make into a study."


The former house owner Li Bo was leading Chen Cheng and Tong Jialu around the 190-square-meter house as he said:


"You two can consider making it into a baby room in the future, which would also be a great choice."


When Tong Jialu heard him say that, knowing it was impossible, she still secretly felt happy.


At least at this moment, the woman by Chen Cheng's side was only her.


Chen Cheng, however, noticed the phone he was holding in his hand, with a transparent case containing a one-hundred-dollar bill.


The man looked like most of the old pros who had spent a good part of their lives in this industry, with a thin suit and a shirt not buttoned at the very top, giving off the vibe of a gourmand uncle at a glance.


"Mr. Li, is the house noisier on the north side?" Chen Cheng asked.


Li Bo did not hide it, nodding, "North side is Yaojiayuan Road, it will be a bit noisy."


Chapter 77: Won't You Come Up and Sit for a While?