Chapter 63: Let the Demonic Winds Rise

A fleeting look of embarrassment crossed Yang Millionaire’s face, but he quickly masked it. “Old Cai, you must be joking. Who could have predicted this thing would rise like that?”
“The pace of its rise is even more terrifying than stocks!”
Someone immediately chimed in, smoothing things over for him. “Mr. Yang is absolutely right. Didn’t we all misjudge it at the start?”
The group began frantically trying to steer the conversation back on course.
What environment is most likely to make someone lose their way? The one Yang Millionaire found himself in was a textbook example.
Accustomed to winning, never admitting his own mistakes—how could he possibly come to know himself? Especially with blind admirers constantly circling around, singing his praises.
Wang Wei offered a wry smile. “A couple of the guys backing me bought in at the top, and they want to ask you, Mr. Cai, do you think this thing still has room to climb?”
Cai Weiqiang’s attitude was starkly different. After thinking for a moment, he replied, “If you have the guts, go ahead and buy in large quantities.”
“Personally, I believe that after the second round of the lottery on June 3rd, there’ll be another frenzy for these subscription certificates.”
“On my end, trading volume has been dwindling, but the number of people sitting in the store every day is several times higher than before.”
“Why? Because more and more people are reluctant to sell, and interest is growing.”
“Once June 3rd passes, there’s bound to be another explosion.”
When Yang Millionaire asked Cai Weiqiang, he brushed him off with a few words; yet when Wang Wei asked, he answered in meticulous detail.
It was a clear slap in Yang Millionaire’s face.
This left him looking distinctly uncomfortable.
Wang Wei pondered for a moment. “Seems I’ve also become a bit out of touch with the market.”
Chai Jin could see what was happening—Wang Wei would definitely be buying subscription certificates!
And when a heavyweight like that enters the market, it won’t be for peanuts, especially considering those following him.
As for Yang Millionaire, though his expression was sour, Chai Jin was certain he, too, would buy heavily.
He needed these big players to get in; once they did, prices would soar.
Then he’d be able to offload his own certificates at their peak value.
More and more people began to gather.
Every other sentence was about subscription certificates, and soon they were marveling at Liu Yiqian’s luck.
Helping out a friend, he’d stumbled into a windfall, holding over three thousand certificates—a tremendous fortune.
But was it really luck?
In the crowd, Chai Jin, who had remained silent, shook his head.

He absolutely did not believe Liu Yiqian’s three thousand certificates were bought by chance.
Such talk was for lulling others into complacency; the more certificates sold, the lower the lottery’s winning rate, and the less valuable each certificate in hand would be.
No one paid Chai Jin any mind, and he had no intention of drawing attention—just like one of Cai Weiqiang’s followers, silent at the edge.
Who would have guessed that the largest holder of subscription certificates on the Bund was sitting right beside them!
Those so-called “big players” with their thousand or two thousand certificates were nothing compared to Chai Jin.
The conversation grew ever livelier, to the point that even the lecherous types who’d been fixated on pinching the waitress’s behinds were drawn over in curiosity.
Cai Weiqiang, parched from so much talking, still patiently explained, stirring up a whirlwind here.
His aim was to make people believe these certificates were worth far more than they seemed!
After all, he also stood to benefit from a price surge—he held two thousand himself.
The group was in high spirits when a voice called from the entrance: “Mr. Liu, what a lively crowd you have here.”
Everyone turned to the door.
When they saw who it was, they all rose at once and rushed to greet him.
Indeed, it was none other than Guan Jinsheng, currently the most talked-about figure in the financial markets.
With a square face, a broad smile, he seemed the picture of affability.
Soon Guan Jinsheng was surrounded and fawned upon like a star.
Yang Millionaire’s voice was the loudest among them—it was clear he enjoyed a good relationship with Guan Jinsheng.
He occasionally shot a mocking glance in Cai Weiqiang’s direction.
There was no shortage of black market dealers or securities operators in Shanghai, but those who knew about the time Guan Jinsheng and Old Cai had once shared bunk beds in a factory were few indeed!
Yang Millionaire’s actions seemed deliberate.
To put it bluntly, he was saying: you’re just a black market nobody, not in the same league as a real heavyweight like Guan Jinsheng.
Cai Weiqiang sipped his tea indifferently. “Chai Jin, do you see? This is human nature.”
“Clinging to power, pursuing advantage—their true faces couldn’t be clearer.”
“That’s why I’ve grown so weary of dealing with them.”
Chai Jin smiled mildly. “Isn’t that only natural?”
“Brother, you’re just tired. Take a break, or try a change of scene.”
Cai Weiqiang nodded. “Perhaps you’re right.”
He hesitated, then looked at Chai Jin. “Do you want to meet Guan Jinsheng? Shall I introduce you?”

After a moment’s thought, Chai Jin replied, “No need for that. We’ll quietly make our fortune. I’m just an ordinary speculator—what use is it to know so many people?”
Cai Weiqiang was a little surprised. “But he’s the bellwether of China’s securities market—don’t you want to make his acquaintance?”
Did Chai Jin need the so-called bellwethers of this era?
Of course not—he had the trump card of rebirth in his mind, knowing all the critical events to come, more of a bellwether than any bellwether.
Besides, Guan Jinsheng was too deeply involved in too many things; getting close to him would only mean trouble down the line.
So Chai Jin said, “No need.”
Cai Weiqiang regarded him seriously for a long moment.
At last he said, “Why don’t we find somewhere else, order some barbecue and beer, and head back to the black market to eat?”
“Uncle Zhang and the others are probably still playing cards—we can bring them some as well.”
Chai Jin smiled. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“Let’s go—these insincere gatherings have lost their appeal. Anyway, we’ve accomplished our goal of hyping up the certificates—no need to waste any more time here.”
Eagerly, Cai Weiqiang pulled Chai Jin to his feet.
The two of them made their way across the lobby toward the exit.
At that moment, Guan Jinsheng, surrounded by admirers, suddenly caught sight of Cai Weiqiang and froze.
He called out instinctively, “A-Qiang, what are you doing here?”
“Come over and chat!”
At these words, the more than twenty people gathered around him were all stunned, staring in disbelief at the black market dealer making his way out.
How could Guan Jinsheng possibly know a black market dealer?
What shocked them even more was that Cai Weiqiang didn’t even look back, simply replying, “No need—I won’t interrupt your gathering, Mr. Guan. Until we meet again.”
Without another glance, he pushed open the door and left.
Liu Yiqian was left feeling frustrated, wanting to chase after him and call him back.
But Guan Jinsheng sighed. “Don’t bother, Mr. Liu. That’s just A-Qiang’s temperament—he’s not one to be persuaded.”
Liu Yiqian managed a wry smile. “Mr. Cai certainly doesn’t follow convention.”
Guan Jinsheng sighed again. “Those days are long gone. I really miss the nights we spent eating street food together in Shenzhen.”
Then, as if recalling something, he asked, “No one knows A-Qiang better than I do. To get close to him, you have to be exceptional. That young man with him—who is he?”