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

"She's a very cautious person, always calling us to meet her at a location she chooses."


Tong Jialu detailed, "So, she's never been here."


She unconsciously glanced at the items placed in front of her, a hint of embarrassment appearing on her face.


While listening, Chen Cheng looked at these blood-pumping objects, "Then you guys...wear them there?"


As soon as Tong Jialu heard that, her head immediately drooped down, almost burying into her chest, shaking her head frantically as if to deny something.


She stretched out her slender finger, pointing to a corner of the cabinet where there were two delicate and small RIMOWA Classic Cabin S suitcases, one black and one silver, looking very high-end.


Chen Cheng's gaze followed, noticing a simple and unadorned briefcase placed on top of the suitcases, devoid of any pattern or markings.


"What is this?" he curiously picked it up; it was very light, as if empty.


Chapter 79: Pandora's Suitcase