After the Divorce, I Could Hear the Voice of the Future

Chapter 479: Chapter 474: The Original Intention Was to Make Money

Four hours later, at 2:30 a.m.

The market’s activity had sharply decreased, and the overall situation had gradually stabilized, no longer as wild as before.

Tonight was a feast for speculators in the coin circle, and it should have created thousands of millionaires, if not multimillionaires.

Since Bitcoin broke through its historical high at 10:30 p.m., its price had been on the rise.

Now, the going rate was $7,870,

In just a few hours, it had surged 48.5%.

Lu Liang’s two trading teams, with sufficient funds and no leverage employed, had profited as much as the market gained.

But for speculators in the coin circle, a three-fold leverage was the entry level, five-fold was for the timid, and ten-fold leverage was the norm.

Anyone who, having gone through several rounds of market shakeouts before the uptrend started and remained steadfast without changing from long to short, had made a killing tonight.

Approaching three o’clock, the market was stable without any pullbacks, even slowly rising and breaking past $7,800 several times.

“I’m going to head out first. Make sure everything is set for the shift, and call me if there’s any change.”

Lu Liang said with a smile, patting Wen Chao’s shoulder and giving a few instructions before intending to leave.

With the 24-hour trading model in place, they had to maintain shifts with at least four teams on rotation to ensure that traders were always present in the trading room in case of sudden market movements.

“No need to see me out. It’s only three o’clock, and tonight’s market may not be over yet.”

Lu Liang waved his hand hurriedly and strode out of the trading room, not lingering and leaving the company straight away.

Late at night in Tokyo, there was an indescribable sense of desolation, perhaps related to the drunk office workers seen everywhere on the streets.

Each in their suits, but disheveled, arm in arm, staggering as they walked, singing incomprehensible Japanese nursery rhymes.

Lu Liang saw a lit pork bone ramen shop and suddenly craved a hot soup, so he asked the driver to stop at the roadside.

He, Fang Shiyu, and Secretary Fourth Generation Xu Delin, set out together, and the business Mercedes, filled with burly men, also stopped at the roadside.

Security personnel wouldn’t normally appear unless Lu Liang went to a crowded area and was out of their sight, presenting a security risk, in which case they would closely follow.

“Let’s all have a bite. Order a few more side dishes while you’re at it.”

Lu Liang entered the small shop and sat down in a clean spot.

Upon hearing this, Xu Delin went to the counter to place their orders.

Previously, Lu Liang hadn’t known that he would visit Tokyo every so often, so he didn’t have strict language requirements for his secretary.

But since Xu Jiawei became stationed in Beijing, and with the impending arrival of the Fourth Generation secretary, Lu Liang added a new condition to the recruitment criteria, demanding fluency in Chinese, Japanese, and English.

It didn’t matter if he didn’t understand Japanese; having someone who did was enough. Moreover, as the company’s fame grew, even with demanding recruitment standards, there was no shortage of job applicants.

Lu Liang suddenly thought of Wen Chao, already dispatched overseas to hold the fort, who wouldn’t dare slack off for a moment. His Japanese had become quite proficient, enough for everyday communication.

His attitude was a reflection of the attitude of most in the company: a rapidly growing enterprise indeed brimmed with opportunities. By seizing them, one could soar high and save years of struggle.

However, as the company grew larger and attracted more and more talented individuals, if they remained complacent and lacked a sense of crisis, they were at risk of being eliminated at any time.

Lu Liang then thought of Chen Jinchun and unexpectedly chuckled.

She must be the only person through and through who exuded an air of resignation.

Having been at the job for over two years, her resume remained unchanged, with no new skills or certifications added.

Logically, she should have been let go long ago, but Lu Liang’s tolerance for her was, for some reason, higher than for others.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Lu Liang received a call from Wilson, “Lu, you’re still up this late?”

Having interacted with Lu Liang for some time, he had also learned to exchange pleasantries first, even though Lu Liang probably knew his intention, and he was aware of why Lu Liang had not yet rested.

“Just finished up. About to rest soon.”

Lu Liang replied with a smile, picking up a crispy fried pork cutlet and placing it in his mouth, the crunch resounding.

Hearing this, Wilson immediately asked, “Was that capital movement at 9:30 p.m. in the Bitcoin market yours?”

“Yes,” replied Lu Liang, a smile on his lips, realizing from Wilson’s phrasing that he did not know he was in Tokyo.

There was a one-hour time difference between China and Japan, and if Wilson had known his whereabouts, he would have mentioned 10:30 p.m.

This was good news; it meant he was not under surveillance yet. It also indicated that Wilson still hoped to bring him into the fold.

Wilson didn’t seem surprised but sighed, “Why the rush? Why not wait a few more days?”

“Now isn’t the best time?” Lu Liang retorted with a smile and suddenly brought up Zhao Changpeng, the founder of Binance.

Through his proselytizing, many new people had been attracted to the market: “They’ve got to have a taste of the sweet too, right?”

Wilson was taken aback, then suddenly burst into a delighted smile, “What’s that saying you have over there? It’s like describing how we’re on the same wavelength.”

Lu Liang knew Su Shimin had visited Zhao Changpeng, and also realized that he intended to attract Chinese retail investors through Zhao Changpeng’s evangelism, to give the market a greater sense of solidity.

After all, it was the world’s second-largest economy, and it couldn’t do without the participation of Chinese retail investors, no matter who else was missing.

However, Lu Liang didn’t try to stop him. Instead, he went with the flow, helping them ignite the market frenzy, which showed that even if there were differences, they weren’t insurmountable. Everyone’s main goal was to make money, without any other political intentions.

“Great minds think alike, I guess.”

“Yes, yes, that’s the one.”

Wilson continued, “If you find some time, come to New York. I can set up a meeting with Goldman’s David for you.”

Lu Liang wasn’t in a hurry to reply, pausing for a few seconds: “Then let’s do early next month. The review materials should be mostly translated by then.”

David Solomon, who was Goldman Sachs’ investment banking head until July, became the CEO of Goldman Sachs Group after July.

“Bring those over then.” Wilson was straightforward, wanting to get the two to meet to discuss DiDi’s situation.

It’s better to resolve animosities rather than letting them fester. Sit down for a chat first, because even if relations were currently fiery, a solution could always be found.

Having finished the call with Wilson, Lu Liang was in high spirits, finding even the pungent tonkotsu ramen increasingly appealing as he ate.

Returning to Roppongi, it was already 4 a.m. There was a desk lamp on in the living room, so it wasn’t pitch black everywhere.

Sakurada Miyuki’s room door wasn’t closed, leaving a small gap.

Inside, the bed showed a large lump with only two bare feet sticking out, occasionally wiggling their toes.

Lu Liang’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, he tiptoed to push the door open, approached the bed, and suddenly dived under the covers.

Miyuki was engrossed in her tablet, focusing on the Bitcoin market, counting over and over how much money she made that night.

In the tranquil depths of the night, the sudden emergence of a human head from under the covers felt like a scene of Zhenzi crawling out of the TV.

Startled, she screamed, flinging away the covers, and jumped up shouting, “Mom~”

Lu Liang couldn’t help but laugh, sitting on the bed, digging at his ear: “Was that really necessary?”

“Sir, scaring people can scare them to death,” Sakurada Miyuki complained with a woeful face, still in shock, patting her chest.

Sudden hurried footsteps followed as Erii was also awakened, looking panicky with sleep marks still visible on her face: “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just the sir giving me a scare on purpose,” Miyuki huffed, clinging onto Lu Liang’s back with arms and legs.

Lu Liang glanced at the feet pressed against his waist without ceremony and took hold; Miyuki, feeling like she was electrified, laid back on the bed laughing and yelling.

Seeing this, Erii didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, glanced at the clock on the wall, then looked to Lu Liang: “Sir, you must be hungry after just getting back, shall I make you breakfast?”

“I’ve already eaten outside.”

“It was tonkotsu ramen, wasn’t it? No wonder there’s a funky smell.”

Miyuki, much like a puppy, was on the brink of laughing tears the second before and clinging to Lu Liang the next.

Looking towards her mother, she stuck out her tongue, her face expressing embarrassment: “Mom, I guess I won’t have breakfast later either.”

She hadn’t slept all night, and it was already past four. She didn’t want to be woken up in just over two hours for breakfast.

In her mother’s opinion, the importance of three meals a day should only rank just behind Lu Liang, ahead of herself.

Even going back to bed after eating was acceptable, but she had to get up, something she could never understand.

With Lu Liang home, she could also indulge in some extra sleep.

“Alright, you two should get some rest too.”

Erii left, and it wasn’t until the soft sound of the closing door echoed in the empty house that Lu Liang, smiling, turned to the tablet: “How much did you earn tonight?”

Miyuki’s smile bloomed like flowers, eagerly opening two financial accounts as if presenting treasure. One, which she never touched and served as the principal, had turned $1.5 million into $2.24 million. The investment in Big A’s Ningde Era, combined with the other funds, surpassed $3 million US dollars.

Another account was for her trading that night.

The initial funds were merely $680,000, but she had utilized triple leverage, ballooning it to $2.14 million.

“Sir, you gave me a goal of 20 million US dollars, and I’ve completed a quarter of it~” Sakurada Miyuki squinted happily, swinging back and forth while holding Lu Liang.

“You went short before?”

With just triple leverage, Miyuki made $1.46 million, and Lu Liang had to do the math a few times as it didn’t seem quite right until he opened the trade details page.

“Yeah, I took a little capital to go short. After all, there’s always a minor pullback before a rise.”

Miyuki acted as if it was a given. She had accurately predicted there would be a few minutes of pullback before breaking the high, so she seized that critical timing to short and then immediately covered her position.