Chapter 57: Seizing the Initiative

"Don't worry, Brother Jin," Liu Qingwen said with a forced smile behind him, making a promise. "There won't be any more blunders like before."

Yet, halfway down the alley, he couldn’t help but glance back at the karaoke bar. He knew well enough what kind of woman Xiong Dan was, but after the heated arguments and passionate encounters they'd had at the guesthouse over the past few days, it was impossible not to feel a hint of nostalgia. After all, Liu Qingwen had just come from the countryside. Suddenly meeting such an experienced city woman was, perhaps, a stroke of luck for him. Had he been a more naive country boy, he might have been ensnared for life.

Fortunately, Liu Qingwen understood what mattered most. He remembered why he had come here in the first place.

After returning, Chai Jin took him to the hospital for a check-up. It was all just superficial wounds. After a few days of recuperation, he was back on track.

Every day, he followed Chai Jin into Cai Weiqiang’s black market. He managed to sell four subscription certificates, gritted his teeth, and spent all the money on some of the best tea cakes. He found Old Zhang in the black market and gifted them to him. For someone of Old Zhang’s status, these were mere trifles, hardly worth a second glance. Still, he appreciated Liu Qingwen’s thoughtfulness and was left with a favorable impression.

From then on, Liu Qingwen shamelessly stationed himself at the card table with a few of Zhonghai’s prominent figures every day. Sometimes, when someone was absent or there was a seat to fill, he would step in. Chai Jin gave him three thousand yuan to accompany these big shots in their games, and with his quick wit and glib tongue, Liu Qingwen had them roaring with laughter each day. And so, he gradually became part of their circle.

As for Chai Jin, he had no intention of cultivating these connections. It was already late April, and Zhonghai, like the spring weather, was beginning to stir with restless energy. The price of subscription certificates was still being driven to new heights by speculators.

Cai Weiqiang worked in black market trading, but he was by no means the only one in Zhonghai. The market was ablaze everywhere. The media, never one to shy from a spectacle, published one analytical essay after another in the newspapers, each calculating just how much profit a subscription certificate could bring in the stock market.

The hottest article came from the Huacheng Economic Times—a small newspaper that gained sudden fame from this very report. A journalist named Yang Yang wrote, “The profit on each subscription certificate could possibly break ten thousand, and might even reach twenty thousand.”

Such a report was like fuel thrown onto the fire, sending prices soaring once again.

That morning, Chai Jin and Cai Weiqiang sat at the alleyway entrance sipping their morning tea. Cai Weiqiang held the newspaper in his hand, reading as he remarked, “This reporter really dares to write! Even an old hand like me, who’s been rolling around the stock market for years, feels stirred up by his words. Some of his reasoning, when you think about it, isn’t entirely without merit.”

Chai Jin took a sip of his tea and replied, “He’s not entirely wrong. In times like these, fortune favors the bold and the imaginative.”

Outsiders watched the spectacle; insiders saw the game. Both Cai Weiqiang and Chai Jin understood: this reporter was almost certainly a hired gun, likely backed by someone holding a massive stockpile of subscription certificates, aiming to drive prices higher.

But what Cai Weiqiang didn’t know was that Chai Jin understood the true significance of this report even more deeply. Yang Yang’s analysis, by the time the second batch of subscription certificates was issued the following year, would become legendary. Over eighty percent of the predictions matched the market trends Chai Jin remembered from his previous life. He made a note of that name, already considering ways to recruit him. In finance, one’s longevity depended on strong media connections behind the scenes.

Setting that matter aside, Chai Jin suddenly spotted Fang Yi in the shop. He asked, “Brother, do you know that man well?”

Following his gaze, Cai Weiqiang looked over, then shook his head with a wry smile. “I know him very well, but I don’t understand him at all. That kid is tough—he must have over a hundred certificates hoarded by now. Every day, he comes and goes like clockwork, never exchanges information with anyone, hardly says a word. There’s something uncanny about him.”

“Oh?” Chai Jin lifted his teacup to his lips.

He had been observing Fang Yi for a while, but Fang Yi was extremely cautious and never revealed anything about his origins or background, leaving Chai Jin, who was eager to win him over, quite at a loss.

After putting down his cup, Chai Jin said, “Let’s talk about the future. The craze for Zhonghai’s subscription certificates will only last through this year. What are your plans for the year after next?”

The question gave Cai Weiqiang pause. With a trace of bitterness, he replied, “What else is there? When certificates are no longer in play and there’s a formal stock exchange, I’ll just become a regular investor.”

Chai Jin regarded him calmly before finally saying, “How about joining me in Deep City when the time comes?”

“Deep City?” Cai Weiqiang was intrigued. “I don’t know how many certificates you’ve hoarded, but it must be a considerable amount. You’ve worked so hard to establish yourself here—why would you think of going to Deep City?”

It wasn’t just Cai Weiqiang—anyone would have been baffled. Deep City was just a small city with little over a million people, nowhere near the same league as Zhonghai. What prospects could it possibly offer?

Chai Jin smiled faintly. “Let me put it this way. Zhonghai is a city with over a century of history; its social structure has been reorganized countless times. For us, breaking into the top circles in a short time is nearly impossible. But just this past February, the era’s great leader set off a thunderous spring in Deep City. I’m convinced it won’t be long before it rivals Zhonghai. The opportunities there far outweigh those here.”

Cai Weiqiang, being a native of Guangdong Province, knew the region well. Every person from Guangdong knew that the provincial capital, Zhou City, was the best place to be—one of the largest provincial capitals in the country. If one had to choose between Deep City and Zhou City, most would pick the latter. Aside from the industrial park established by the Merchants Bureau in the early days of the reform, Deep City had little to recommend it. What potential did it have to compete with Zhonghai?

He chuckled. “Tell me, then—what’s the opportunity you see?”

Chai Jin was genuinely intent on bringing Cai Weiqiang along. The man’s background and connections in Guangdong surely exceeded his expectations; having him around would make many things effortless. It was a win-win.

So he patiently explained, “Deep City has something no other city in the country possesses: direct access to Harbor City, the world’s largest free trade port. Harbor City is the gateway through which all of China’s goods reach the world. Once the policies open up further, Deep City, sharing a border with Harbor City, will inevitably take off. When the internet arrives, along with electronics, trade, and so on, they’ll all rise in tandem. With such enormous business opportunities emerging on this land, do you think those of us who go there with capital in hand won’t seize the advantage?”