"Hahaha…"
Only after the group had exchanged pleasantries for quite a while did they finally start walking unhurriedly toward the spectator stands.
Seeing Han Anning follow them uphill, Jiang Cheng turned and asked, "Aren't you going for a lap?"
He remembered this pink-haired beauty had always loved racing.
Jiang Cheng's question clearly tempted her.
After hesitating for a few seconds, the corner of her mouth curled into a mischievous, prankster's smile.
Then, with a half-smile, she nodded and cooed, "Mm… well, why don't you hop on behind me?"
Although Jiang Cheng did want to get on, he didn't take the bait.
Letting his gaze travel over Han Anning's stunning figure, he went against his real desire and said, "In your dreams. I'm picky."
With that, he turned away without a backward glance, leaving Han Anning standing there, stunned by the breeze.
Her face was frozen in shock, as if she'd been petrified.
When she finally reacted, her expression shifted from speechlessness to a hard-to-describe flush creeping across her delicate cheeks.
How could she miss the meaning? He was rejecting her.
Until now, she had always been the one doing the choosing.
Usually, a crook of her finger was enough to have boys panting after her like eager puppies.
Yet today, Jiang Cheng had actually turned her down?
How could the proud, confident Han Anning accept that?
She believed she was no worse than Qiao Yinyin, right?
Watching Jiang Cheng's carefree figure recede, Han Anning ground her teeth in frustration.
She raised a fist and shook it at his distant back.
Those contrary words had once again ignited her competitive fire.
Right then, she resolved to make Jiang Cheng witness her charm.
Once he knelt at her feet, she'd kick him aside and let him taste the bitterness of being spurned.
After Jiang Cheng reached the stands and sat, he noticed Wang Jian didn't take a seat right away.
Instead, feigning interest in the scenery, Wang Jian quietly slid into the row behind and settled himself behind Jiang Cheng.
Seeing that, Jiang Cheng turned and asked, "Not going for another lap?"
Wang Jian waved his hands hurriedly and laughed, "No, no, better take it easy. The nurse warned me not to get too worked up…"
Actually, Wang Jian badly wanted another run.
But with Jiang Cheng here—and several VIPs he rarely got to meet—he forced the urge down.
To him, today was a perfect networking opportunity.
Everyone present was usually out of his reach.
Staying might not guarantee connections, but at least he could make himself known, right?
Watching Wang Jian, head bandaged, ingratiate himself, Jiang Cheng's thoughts drifted back to the bar two nights ago.
After Chen Tie had smashed a bottle on his head, Wang Jian had instantly caved.
Though he'd acted fine, even forcing a smile and insisting he was okay,
inside, he'd been furious.
Circumstances had simply left him no choice.
In truth, kids from wealthy families often mature earlier than average.
From childhood they absorb the nuances of social etiquette and business dealings.
So, whether networking or courting influence, these scions are usually proactive and hungry for success.
After all, if they can latch onto the right contact and secure even a small opening,
their entire clan might leap forward and achieve a qualitative transformation.
Jiang Cheng didn't expose Wang Jian's motives.
Put in the same position, he'd probably do the same.
He turned to Wang Jian and asked, "How much capital do you have right now?"
The question came out of nowhere, yet Wang Jian answered without hesitation,
"I just bought a car, so I've only got about a hundred thousand left. If that's not enough, I can mortgage the car and scrape together seven or eight hundred thousand."
Jiang Cheng nodded. "Small, but better than nothing."
Wang Jian assumed the shortfall was for compensating Chen Tie and quickly said, "Just tell me how much more is needed, Brother Cheng. I'll find a way—this whole mess started because of me."
Seeing Wang Jian's anxiety, Jiang Cheng gave him a reassuring look: "It's not about Chen Tie. If you've spare cash and trust me, I'll give you an account number—wire it to Xingchen Investment. In a week, principal and profit will be back in your account."
At those words, Wang Jian's eyes flashed with surprise; excitement flooded his face, and he sprang to his feet.
He'd long heard of Xingchen Investment and researched it thoroughly.
Was Jiang Cheng offering him a hand?
The thought sent his emotions soaring.
Right then, Jiang Cheng was nothing less than his greatest benefactor.
Wang Jian gripped Jiang Cheng's shoulders from behind, voice trembling, "Thank you for lifting me up, Brother Cheng."
Seeing Jiang Cheng bring Wang Jian in, Qi Yuan beside him couldn't wait: "Brother Cheng, any cap on the money this round?"
"Not that it matters for you—your stash is tiny."
Qi Yuan clutched his chest theatrically. "That hurts, man. If there's no limit, I'll scrounge up more."
After he spoke, Qin Fen on the other side also looked eagerly at Jiang Cheng.
"Yeah, Jiang Cheng, I wanted to ask—how much to follow? If there's no cap, I'll go all in."
"Aren't you two afraid of flipping the car?"
Qin Fen slapped Jiang Cheng on the shoulder. "What are you afraid of? Without you, we wouldn't have made this much money. Same as before—if it all goes south, we start over together."
"Exactly. If it crashes, I can still come work for you."
The two exchanged a knowing grin and slapped palms.
Seeing them act so carefree, dead-set on sticking with him to the end, Jiang Cheng could only shake his head in resignation.
"This opponent's tough. We could go all-in, but I can't promise the payoff will match last time."
Jiang Cheng opened the system's confidential business file and skimmed it.
The intel the system supplied targeted Germany's Conglomerate Automobile.
According to the data, three years earlier Conglomerate had been caught in a massive "diesel-gate" scandal.
At the time, Pretty Country's Environmental Protection Agency launched an in-depth probe.
The findings were staggering.
Multiple models under the German Conglomerate marque had been secretly fitted with special software designed to cheat emissions tests.
The cheat code lay dormant most of the time, seemingly asleep.
Yet the instant a car rolled into an inspection bay, the program woke like a roused beast, quietly activating and rewriting the relevant data.
Thanks to this ingenious ruse,
the Excessive emissions readings were transformed in the blink of an eye.
As if by magic, they now masqueraded as squeaky-clean, eco-compliant figures.
Because of the software, these Conglomerate cars could cruise the roads with full legitimacy.
Behind that veneer of compliance,
they posed a grave threat to the environment we depend on.
These so-called "green vehicles" had nothing to do with being green.
Their tailpipe emissions hadn't fallen one iota; in fact they were shockingly high—
more than forty times the legal limit in Pretty Country.
Outrageous, right?
Branding them as eco-friendly while secretly spewing toxins, and doing it on the sly to boot.
After the scandal broke, nearly two thousand Conglimate cars with the same engines were found in imports to China.
Beijing issued a statement promising an investigation,
yet Conglomerate's pull was sky-high.
Reports were swiftly suppressed,
and the public soon forgot the whole affair.
As they spoke, several more cars shot onto the track.
Everyone's gaze locked onto the first one—a porsche 911 barreling toward them.
Its lines were sleek, its paint dazzling; with a roar it flashed across the finish like lightning.
Clearly, the porsche 911 had taken the win.
Watching it, Jiang Cheng recalled that Conglomerate wasn't backed only by the German government—its ties to porsche were tangled and deep.
No wonder Conglomerate could bury such a colossal flaw so effortlessly.
For a corporation with that kind of clout, covering things up was child's play.
Still, it was only a stop-gap; paper can't wrap fire forever, and one day the truth would blaze out.
The 911's door lifted and Han Anning stepped out, her hair candy-fuchsia.
She looked straight at Jiang Cheng, a triumphant, confident smile blooming on her face.
It felt like she was trying to engage him from afar.
Jiang Cheng didn't take the bait;
he pretended to check his phone and ignored her.
Wu Quan, Zhao Cheng and Sun Zhisheng, sitting nearby, traded glances.
At the last drinking get-together they'd already heard Qin Fen hint at what was going on.
He hadn't said much,
but they'd gathered he'd made a tidy fortune following Jiang Cheng.
Clearly Qi Yuan had cashed in earlier too.
If only Qin Fen were in, they might not have been so tempted,
but with Qi Yuan joining as well, the prospect was irresistible.
Whatever Jiang Cheng's own background,
with Qi Yuan's family standing in Shanghai, who would dare set him up?
And even if someone tried, the Qis' deep roots would sniff it out in no time.
More importantly, Qi Yuan's participation meant the deal was squeaky-clean—
exactly the kind of investment they wanted and needed.
For the three of them, making money was urgent.
Though their families held posts of one kind or another,
their pocket money paled beside that of the average Second-generation rich kid.
People like them could certainly lay hands on cash—
a village headmaster usually ends up in a villa within a few years,
and if a school principal can manage that, how could they fail?
But whether that cash was clean was another matter.
So even if the family had money, the elders wouldn't hand it over lightly.
In this digital age, if you wanted a long career in the system, you couldn't swagger like people did decades ago.
The higher your rank, the more careful you had to be.
Seeing the other two signal him, Wu Quan asked sheepishly, "Brother Cheng, Qi Yuan, Brother Qin—what are you talking about? Sounds like a big investment."
Neither Qi Yuan nor Qin Fen answered;
both looked embarrassed, as if they'd let something slip.
Qi Yuan even shot Wu Quan a glare that said: don't be so dense.
Unlike Qi Yuan's evident nerves, Jiang Cheng stayed calm, his expression barely flickering.
After all, Xingchen Investment Company had been transparent and fully compliant from day one—it could withstand any audit.