Wang Congcong nodded in agreement. "This kid's probably watched too much TV, or else he simply looks down on us."
"Can't really blame Xu Lei—their branch is already the biggest in Modu. If you hadn't told him you'd park ten billion in deposits, he probably couldn't have approved a transfer that size."
"Still, money's one thing. I bet if we actually tried to rob the bank, the cash on hand wouldn't top a billion. No way they keep ten billion in bills lying around. Splitting a few hundred million among us would be pointless. Better to take this project: a casual carve-up and everyone walks away with one or two billion—and it's risk-free."
Qin Fen chimed in, "Exactly. Bank robbery's illegal, but robbing him isn't."
Everyone burst out laughing again, looking at Wen Ang as if he were an idiot.
Their mockery made Wen Ang's face flush red.
When he heard Jiang Cheng had transferred 1.4 billion to Wang Congcong's family, Wen Ang's eyes widened in shock.
But Wang Congcong implied Jiang Cheng's deposits actually totaled ten billion.
Shocked, Wen Ang still refused to believe it.
After all, there weren't many people in the country worth that much.
If Jiang Cheng had ten billion in cash, his total worth had to exceed a hundred billion.
A hundred-billion fortune would put him on par with Richest Man Wang.
A stampede of thoughts thundered through Wen Ang's mind.
He didn't even bother responding to their teasing anymore.
His gaze toward Jiang Cheng grew more probing.
Clearly Jiang Cheng wasn't an ordinary Second-generation rich kid.
No wonder Wang Congcong kept elevating him at every turn.
Now Wen Ang half-believed Jiang Cheng truly scorned a measly two hundred million.
Turned out Jiang Cheng hadn't been toying with him—he'd really meant to demand two billion.
Two billion each for five people made ten billion.
When the An Sheng Group project wrapped, the total profit would max out at ten billion.
And that ten billion would be profits saved up over several years.
From the start Jiang Cheng had never planned to negotiate with him.
Their target had always been this ten-billion order.
Seeing no room for further talks, Wen Ang could only give up.
He shot them a fierce glare and snorted, "Fine, you're ruthless. Let's see what you're really capable of."
With that, Wen Ang spun around and stalked off.
Once he'd left, Chen Haio grinned, "That guy sure can swallow insults. Seeing him ready to puke blood feels fantastic."
Chen Hao had been furious at Wen Ang earlier.
Wang Zheng added, "Old Jiang's domineering—just a few sentences spun that sly fox in circles."
Qin Fen nodded. "Honestly, at first I also thought Old Jiang meant two billion. Five of us, ten billion—how could that weasel cough it up? And that's just the gross profit. Right now he must feel like he swallowed a fly."
Jiang Cheng watched Wen Ang's retreating back and shook his head. "Keep an eye on who he meets these days. Check out the man who left with him. We're nearly at the finish line—better safe than sorry."
Wang Congcong clapped Jiang Cheng's shoulder. "With your inside info everything's solid. Oh right—heard the Overseas Chinese Company approached your firm. Any interest in the Fengwangtai plot in Kyoto?"
Jiang Cheng stayed vague. "Still weighing it; nothing's set. Apparently Overseas Chinese has contacted plenty of companies—your family's not among them, is it?"
Wang Congcong didn't deny it. "Yeah, they're cash-strapped; they've hit up every investor. My old man declined—he's busy finding a pivot for Wanda lately and doesn't want to throw more money in."
Jiang Cheng nodded casually. "Wanda really needs to set a clear future direction; you can't keep focusing only on real estate."
Wang Congcong's eyes lit up. "My dad nags about this daily. He agrees with you that we can't keep on the same path, but when I ask what to do he says he hasn't decided and wants my input—how the hell should I know? Any special suggestions?"
Jiang Cheng knew how Wanda's fortunes would rise and fall.
But he had no intention of getting involved—he was busy enough without minding another company's business.
He equivocated: "If Uncle Wang hasn't figured it out, how would I?"
Wang Congcong looked skeptical. "I don't buy that. My dad keeps saying he wants to meet you—come to dinner sometime and talk with him."
Jiang Cheng put on an overwhelmed expression. "We'll see; I'm not great with elders."
Wang Congcong didn't press further. "Coming to the Overseas Chinese auction dinner? Word is they're even selling heirlooms—shows how big their money hole is. Their collection's huge."
At that, Qin Fen's interest perked up. "An auction? Anything special?"
Wang Zheng patted Qin Fen. "Brother Qin loves these events."
Wang Congcong replied, "The usual stuff, but a few nice plate numbers you might fancy."
He turned to Jiang Cheng. "Your red laferrari's almost delivered, right? Still need a plate?"
Thinking of his laferrari, Jiang Cheng nodded with interest.
"Wouldn't have thought of that. Since it's on, let's check it out together."
...