Jiang Cheng nodded and asked, "How are things progressing?"
"We've gathered almost enough evidence on the distillery investment; we can close the net any time. As for Wang Hao, he still hasn't made a move," Wang Sheng replied with his head lowered.
"If it's almost ready, there's no need to wait. Luo Jia, find a way to dispose of her."
Wang Sheng understood Jiang Cheng's meaning and nodded. "Yes, sir."
The matter had dragged on too long; Jiang Cheng had run out of patience.
After lunch, Jiang Cheng drove to Xingchen Investment Company.
In the underground garage, Jiang Cheng stepped out of his car while chatting with Chen Xueer on the phone.
Moments after leaving the lamborghini reventón, he collided with a soft wall of flesh.
An alluring perfume wafted over; Jiang Cheng looked up.
Luo Jia was theatrically clutching her chest.
When she saw Jiang Cheng glance at her, she switched on automatic-massage mode and cooed, "Oh dear, my chest hurts so much."
She then covered her mouth in exaggerated dismay at the folder and car keys on the ground.
She crouched, gathering the documents while stealing looks at Jiang Cheng.
Seeing Jiang Cheng remain silent, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he watched her.
Luo Jia's expression froze for a second, then she spoke again.
"Chairman Jiang, I'm so sorry—did I hurt you?"
As she spoke, her hands began a pretense of checking him for injuries.
Calling it a check was generous; she simply started groping.
Luo Jia's hands roamed wildly over Jiang Cheng's lower body.
Jiang Cheng didn't flinch, letting her practiced fingers trace up and down the inside of his thigh over the casual slacks.
His eyes held playful contempt. "Doesn't hurt—good thing you're padded with silicone. Keep rubbing, though, and something might transform."
Luo Jia picked up the keys, gave her heavy assets a lift, and laughed. "Chairman Jiang, you kid. These are 100% natural. I was just worried I'd bruised you—so tall and rugged. If anything happened, think of all the hearts you'd break."
Jiang Cheng ignored the innuendo, noting the key in her hand, and raised an eyebrow.
"A Tesla?"
Luo Jia's smile stiffened for an instant, then recovered.
"Sharp eye, Chairman Jiang. I just switched to it—new-energy vehicles are all the rage."
Jiang Cheng glanced at the white Tesla Model X not far away.
It was 2017; Tesla still ruled the new-energy market.
That white Model X had cost well over a million after delivery.
Back then, Teslas weren't for ordinary folk.
First-generation owners were basically premium leeks.
Real price cuts wouldn't come until after 2019.
Thanks to domestic policy, cheaper batteries, and fresh competition from other EVs.
When the Model 3 arrived, Tesla slashed prices in half.
From over a million to just three-odd hundred thousand.
A young white-collar worker like Luo Jia couldn't afford a Model X without side hustles.
Jiang Cheng studied the car, then smiled. "I hear their brakes aren't perfect. Aren't you afraid of brake failure?"
Luo Jia, mind still on seduction, missed the undertone.
She kept her sultry look. "Brakes? I never use them. I love speeding on the highway. And like me, this car needs no fuel—just charge and self-drive. If I were your chauffeur, Chairman Jiang, would you ride with me?"
"Autopilot can be a hidden danger. Besides, I'm picky about cars—and drivers. With you at the wheel, I'd rather stay parked; safety first."
With that, Jiang Cheng left her gaping and strode toward the elevator.
Luo Jia glared at his retreating back, her face contorted with rage.
She knew her curves were top-tier—ample bust, perky rear—so why did she keep crashing into a wall with Jiang Cheng?
And he'd insinuated she was dirty. Was there something wrong with his mind—or with her strategy?
After sulking, she shot daggers at his back.
Inside, she hissed, "The plan's already in motion—let's see how you die..."
Jiang Cheng caught every hint; he simply refused to play along. Why waste words on a dead woman walking?
He recalled Tesla's brake-failure scandal would erupt in 2019.
It had battered Tesla's reputation and tanked its us stock market price.
That was when domestic EVs truly entered mainstream consideration.
He could make that brake crisis arrive early.
Tesla's biggest selling point was its self-driving tech.
In 2017, though, the system was far from mature—even before his rebirth it had glitches.
Bug reports surfaced now and then.
Even an island celebrity—an ageless heart-throb and race-car driver—had smashed into a roadside pillar when his Tesla's brakes failed.
Rescued by passers-by, the car burst into flames seconds later.
Facial injuries forced him into multiple plastic surgeries.
Jiang Cheng sat back in his office chair, eyes closed, mind racing with schemes about Luo Jia and Tesla.
A preliminary plan was taking shape.
Just then the system chimed.
"Congratulations, Host: you now have Tesla's us stock market movements for the next three days."
Jiang Cheng's eyes snapped open at the notification.
Had the system read his thoughts?
His last short sale had netted ten billion; if he could repeat the trick with Tesla, another fortune awaited.
How exactly to sway Tesla's stock, though, still needed planning.