The appearance of Zhao An elicited gasps of surprise from those present. It was even more intriguing than the earlier farce, because Zhao An was practically a elusive figure, rarely seen, and reportedly seldom attended school, yet consistently scored close to 100 on exams, with the school turning a blind eye to his performance. After all, Zhao An's donations allowed the school to expand and purchase better educational equipment. How could they teach when their students were already earning money? It was all just a matter of passing the time and getting a diploma. It was said that Fudan University, Cambridge, and Ivy League universities had all extended offers to him; if he wished, he could immediately become a student at these world-renowned institutions.

However, Zhao An refused. He preferred this freedom to working part-time. Studying? He knew everything. His current research area was beyond the reach of many scientists—the ultimate energy conversion, quantum mechanics, magnetic field mechanics, and so on—knowledge that even university professors might not understand. For him, school was purely a pastime, and his success made him a prominent figure.

Such outstanding individuals are rare these days, and Zhao An's wealth has never been publicly disclosed or listed; no one knows exactly how much money he has. Only his closest women know, and without exception, all of these women are pregnant and nearing their due dates.

"What a handsome man! I wonder if we'll have a chance to sleep together tonight?"

"Is this Zhao An? He's so dashing, clearly a talented individual."

"Indeed, I hear he has several projects under his belt; even a small portion of that would be enough for us to live a life of luxury."

Women like my cousins ​​only know that Zhao An is incredibly wealthy—enough money he could never spend even if he stopped running his company and lived a life of extravagance.

Zhao An's arrival undoubtedly heated up the party atmosphere. Zhao An is a cash cow; receiving his guidance or even a potential collaboration would be extremely beneficial for the wealthy businessmen present. Especially now that the financial crisis has hit, and industries are clearly sluggish, new ventures are needed to generate even more profit.

One of the middle-aged businessmen's eyes darted back and forth, glancing between his wife and Zhao An. He knew Zhao An's interests. It was practically common knowledge that Zhao An had numerous ambiguous rumors about his relationships with women, though none had been confirmed. What was undeniable was that Zhao An was indeed attracted to women, whether young babes or mature women; as long as they were exceptionally beautiful, he could easily seduce them.

Huang Meng tossed aside his wine bottle, plastered a bright smile, and walked over, shaking Zhao An's hand. "Young Master An, it's an honor to have you here. It's a pleasure to meet you. Please come in, Young Master An. I've prepared some fine wine and steak; please try them."

Zhao An and Huang Meng were bitter rivals. They had never actually fought, their results generally even. However, it was clear to everyone that Huang Meng had lost. A young master from a wealthy family fighting a commoner to a standstill—it was practically a case of "good-for-nothing" written all over his face. Someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth couldn't beat his opponent; what else could he be but a good-for-nothing? "Just here for fun, don't take it too seriously." Zhao An picked up a glass of red wine and began devouring the steaks on the table without any hesitation. These steaks were all high-quality, cooked to perfection—not rare or medium-well, but well-done—and the taste was superb. What's the point of eating medium-well if it's contaminated with bacteria? Is it just for showing off?

"These are Australian steaks; the hotel has prepared a lot. Someone, tell the kitchen to make a lot more for Young Master An to enjoy. Remember, make sure it's delicious! Go!" Huang Meng ordered, sending his men to run the errand. His strategist, Gong Xin, was also there to keep him company. Since there was nothing else to do, attending a party wasn't a bad idea.

Zhao An ate his steak while drinking, without any restraint. Such a carefree eating style would be seen as uncultured, uncultured, and lacking in manners by a poor young man! But with him, everyone around him praised him.

"Is this how a genius eats?"

"As expected of Young Master An, so bold and generous!"

"He really knows how to eat! What a strong man!"

"Is Young Master An satisfied? He seems to be in a good mood lately. I lost quite a bit of money during the financial crisis." Huang Meng said obsequiously. For a direct descendant of one of the four great families to be pouring wine for Zhao An with such a humble tone was simply shameful!

"It's alright. It's just a financial crisis. It happened two months ago. You think buying stocks and funds is that simple? Heh, I didn't make much, just over three billion. That stuff is really boring, the money comes too fast. Soros, some financial tycoon? Just trash. This kind of money-making method is not as good as doing some real business. Stocks are just for making quick money, like a game of musical chairs!" Zhao An scoffed, taking out a cigarette, lighting it, exhaling a smoke ring, his expression utterly contemptuous. He certainly had the right to say that, based on his achievements.

Wow, one sentence and he dismissed a financial tycoon.

Undeniably, in the stock and futures market, it's possible to profit if you want to. Some people have the idea but lack the capital. Some have the capital but lack the idea, but those who succeed all have both. It's simple: buy low and sell high, using various methods to inflate the value of stocks and futures, then sell them off to reap the profits from unsuspecting investors.

These words caused everyone around to gasp. Over three billion yuan—what does that mean? At least those attending this party weren't particularly wealthy. And assets and capital are different; the former includes fixed assets like real estate. The latter is real cash on hand. Three billion yuan is three billion yuan—real money!

"US dollars?" Huang Meng asked tentatively.

"Nonsense, otherwise who would play with you? If it's not US dollars, is it Japanese yen? Or Vietnamese dong?" Zhao An sneered. "This financial crisis is no ordinary one. I think at least tens of billions have been wiped out in the stock market. The global chain reaction means it won't recover for at least a year. After a year is another story. It could be a year or more if things go well, or three to five years if things go slowly. Hehe, this is really fun, interesting, very interesting, fucking interesting."

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