The divorce comeback system arrived right after I was born.

Time is like a never-ending river, washing away countless mornings and evenings in the blink of an eye.

Chen Zhi sat in front of the computer with the blinds drawn tightly, letting in only a few rays of dim sunlight.

Chen Zhi clicked rapidly in front of the screen.

The confirmation for the last transaction popped up.

Chen Zhi leaned back in his chair, picked up the iced cola on the table, and took a swig. The carbonation burst on his tongue, taking away a bit of the summer heat.

He had been selling off his holdings ever since the Bitcoin frenzy began in 2013. He dumped his 20,000 Bitcoins in batches into that frenzied market.

Fifteen thousand.

In return, they received 15 million US dollars lying in an overseas account.

The five thousand coins he left behind were a trump card he had left for the future, or rather, a commemorative coin to mark the absurd drama of rebirth.

"That's about it."

Chen Zhi muttered to himself, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table.

Now comes the main event.

Brazil World Cup.

This is not just a celebration for fans, but also a meat grinder for capital.

Chen Zhi didn't have any grand ambitions to save the national football team; he just wanted to make money.

The pages of major betting websites were lined up in front of him.

Germany vs. Brazil.

This was a night that countless people in later generations talked about with relish, and that also caused countless gamblers to line up on the rooftop.

7:1.

The odds are frighteningly high, with some bookmakers even offering terrifying odds of 500 to 750 times.

Chen Zhi stared at the terrifying odds on the webpage.

All in?

No.

If he dares to bet all fifteen million US dollars on this score, Interpol and various unknown forces will make him disappear the very next day.

This world has its own operating logic. Reborn individuals can exploit bugs, but they cannot crash the server.

He started spreading his bets out.

The German championship provides a solid foundation.

Germany beats Brazil; this is an advanced betting result.

Then, using hundreds of fake accounts registered on dozens of different unknown overseas websites, they piecemeal bets on the score of "7:1".

The amounts in each account are small, a few thousand dollars, tens of thousands of dollars, and are insignificant among the hundreds of millions of transactions worldwide.

But when combined, they become a colossal, towering wave.

That night, screams echoed through the Mineirão Stadium in Belo Horizonte, and the tears of Brazilians flooded the Amazon rainforest.

After that crazy night, Chen Zhi's overseas account saw its numbers start fluctuating wildly.

Fifteen million became seven hundred and fifty million.

US dollars.

Looking at the dizzying string of zeros in his account, Chen Zhi yawned and closed the webpage.

"It's just so-so."

He stretched, grabbed a summer homework book, flipped to the math page, and started drawing a turtle on it.

With the money in place, the next step is to spend it.

The internet landscape of 2014 was a time of fierce competition among powerful players.

Following the wealth miracles of Alibaba and Tencent, various internet companies have sprung up like mushrooms after rain, all wanting a piece of this huge market.

However, these companies are already well-established, and investing in them will not yield the greatest return on Chen Zhi's funds.

While all the capital was fighting tooth and nail for the Internet, there was one Internet company that was not very noticeable.

The musical notes danced.

Currently, it relies solely on "Tiantian Toutiao" to build its empire. Although it is gaining momentum, in the eyes of traditional internet giants, it is nothing more than a nouveau riche that relies on algorithms to recommend vulgar news.

News apps don't really have much of a future.

But only Chen Zhi knows what kind of behemoth this company will grow into in the future.

In June, the Series C funding round for Musical Notes will begin.

Sequoia Capital has a keen sense of smell and is preparing to swallow this lucrative opportunity.

Chen Zhi glanced at the calendar.

Trouble.

It takes time to recoup funds from gambling on football matches. After layers of laundering and transfers, the money won't be available until at least mid-July.

Zhang Yiming couldn't wait that long.

Chen Zhi spun the ballpoint pen rapidly between his fingers.

We must find a way to stall them.

Across the ocean, the Cayman Islands.

An offshore investment company called "Goodnight Capital" has been quietly registered and established.

This is a shell company bought by Chen Zhi; it has nothing but money.

Chen Zhi used a headhunter to poach David, a professional manager from Wall Street, with a high salary.

David had never met such a strange boss in his life.

He never shows his face and only contacts people through encrypted emails and voice-changing phone calls. His voice sounds like that of an old man whose voice has been ravaged by smoking and drinking for thirty years.

"David, I need you to do something."

"Boss, what are your orders?"

"Go and connect with the rhythm of Chinese music, and tell them that we want to invest in Series C funding."

"But boss, Sequoia Capital has almost finished negotiating with them, and the valuation is around 500 million US dollars."

"Then give them a price they can't refuse."

The voice on the other end of the phone was lazy yet arrogant.

"Tell The Notes to Jump that I'll offer $300 million for just 30% of the shares."

David nearly choked on his own saliva.

"Three...three hundred million? Only 30%? Boss, that's a valuation of one billion US dollars! The current Note Dance isn't worth that much at all! This premium is outrageous!"

"Moreover, their news software doesn't have much of a future. They would be better off using that money to cast a wide net among some startup internet companies in Silicon Valley. Eventually, one of them will grow into a successful company."

"Do as I say."

"And..." the voice on the other end paused, "tell them that I won't participate in any company decisions, I don't want voting rights, I only want profit-sharing rights. I won't give anything else, and I don't want anything else, except money."

David fell silent.

What is this?

Is this a money-giving boy? Or is it God descending to earth to save all living beings?

In the capital market, investors would love to know everything about the founders, even the color of their underwear. How can there be such a fool who only gives money and does nothing?

"Boss, are you sure?"

"Go. Do as I say."

In May, willow catkins fill the air in Beijing.

The atmosphere in ByteDance's conference room was extremely strange.

Zhang Yiming looked at the letter of intent from "Goodnight Capital" in his hand, his brows furrowing, then relaxing, then furrowing again.

The Sequoia Capital partner sitting opposite him had a frighteningly dark expression.

"A valuation of one billion? And they're not involved in decision-making or management?"

The Sequoia partner slammed the documents on the table, sneering repeatedly, "Old Zhang, where did you find these shills? This act is so fake! Who in the market doesn't know you desperately need funds for expansion? Who but a madman could afford this kind of premium?"

Zhang Yiming adjusted his glasses and said calmly, "They paid a deposit of five million US dollars."

Sequoia Partners One Stuck.

Five million dollars thrown out to make a sound?

Is this madman serious?

"I don't believe they can come up with 300 million in cash!" the Sequoia partner gritted his teeth. "Have you ever seen a fool willing to spend 300 million dollars to invest in a news app that's struggling to even make a profit, without participating in decision-making and management? Do you think foreign capital is stupid?"

"I don't know if he's stupid or not," Zhang Yiming said, looking at the other person. "But if Sequoia can't match this valuation, I'll have a hard time explaining it to my team."

Sequoia is certainly not a good match.

In their actuarial model, while Toutiao's potential is high, it's definitely not worth its current value of one billion US dollars. Capital is greedy, but it is also rational.

Moreover, this is especially true for established capital like Red Shirts.

Faced with an unconventional "Goodnight Capital", Sequoia hesitated.

They decided to wait and see.

They bet that this suddenly emerging, unheard-of "Goodnight Capital" was just bluffing, and that the money would never actually arrive.

The negotiations have reached a stalemate.

The financing, which was originally scheduled to be completed in June, was abruptly delayed.

Chen Zhi received an encrypted email from David at home.

[Boss, Sequoia Capital has withdrawn from the negotiating table and is demanding a reassessment. ByteDance is also hesitant; they're worried we're scammers and are demanding the funds arrive by July 15th, otherwise they'll restart negotiations with Sequoia.]

Chen Zhi looked at the screen and blew on his forehead.

July 15th.

enough.

The final exams arrived as scheduled.

Chen Zhi finished the exam paper in half an hour, and then, under the shocked gaze of the proctor, he lay down on the table and fell asleep.

Inside this ivory tower called "school," no one knows what kind of tumultuous waves this sleepy-eyed elementary school student is stirring up on the other side of the ocean.

July.

The cicadas' chirping was hoarse and strained.

The World Cup has come to an end, with the German machine crushing everything in its path.

Chen Zhi's funds have finally completed the final cleansing and pooling.

Seven hundred and fifty million US dollars, all lying cleanly in an offshore account.

He sent David an email.

[Signed.]

Just two simple words.

David and his team flew to Beijing.

The signing ceremony was so low-key that it hardly seemed like a deal worth hundreds of millions of dollars.

No media, no flowers, no champagne.

There were only a few thick legal documents and a bank transfer success notification sound.

The moment the $300 million was actually transferred into ByteDance's account, the entire conference room fell silent.

Zhang Yiming stared at the number, remaining silent for a long time.

By the time the Sequoia Capital team received the news, their coffee had gone completely cold.

He was so angry that he started cursing.

The mastermind behind this high-stakes gamble is currently squatting in front of the convenience store at the entrance of the residential area.

Chen Zhi was wearing shorts and flip-flops, and was happily munching on a 50-cent popsicle.

"Click."

A piece of the popsicle was bitten off.

The cool sugar water flowed down his throat, making him squint his eyes comfortably.

Who would have thought?

That behemoth that will dominate half of the global mobile internet traffic in the future, that unicorn that keeps Tencent and Alibaba up at night, now has 30% of its shares held by this little kid squatting by the roadside eating an ice cream.

This is the dimensional reduction attack of the reborn.

No need for sophisticated business planning or painstaking management; all you need to do is stand on the shoulders of the future and, at a crucial juncture, drop a gold brick.

"Chen Zhi!"

A crisp shout broke the afternoon's tranquility.

Chen Zhi looked up.

Under the sunlight, Lin Wanwan, wearing a white dress and with her hair tied in a high ponytail, ran over, panting.

Two years have passed, and the little girl who used to follow him around has grown quite a bit taller, and her once innocent face is gradually showing the outline of a future superstar.

Little White followed behind her, sticking out its tongue and wagging its tail foolishly at Chen Zhi.

"You're hiding here eating alone again!"

Lin Wanwan ran up to him, hands on her hips, glaring at him angrily. "Your auntie has been looking for you at home for ages! She said if you don't do your summer homework, she's going to smash your computer!"

Chen Zhisan chewed the remaining popsicle in a few bites and patted the stickiness off his hands.

"I'll be back right away, I'll be back right away."

He stood up and replied lazily.

The billions of dollars in capital and business empire that were just swirling in my mind were instantly shattered by my mother's warning that I had to do my summer homework.

There's no way around it; when you're under someone's roof, you have to bow your head.

Haha, when Dad gets swindled out of all his money in business next year, I'll show up with more money to save this family.

Let's see if you still dare to force me to do my homework then.

"Hurry up!"

Lin Wanwan grabbed his arm and dragged him back without a word. "My mom made braised pork ribs today and wants you to come over for dinner. If you're late, I'll let Xiaobai eat them all!"

"Woof!" Little White barked at the opportune moment, seemingly echoing its owner's threat.

Chen Zhi stumbled slightly as she pulled him, and looking at the girl's head shining in the sunlight, the corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.

The shadows of the two people and the dog were stretched long by the setting sun, overlapping each other.

Chen Zhi let her pull him along, walking slowly.

Chen Zhi didn't stop walking; he flicked the popsicle stick lightly with his fingers.

The bare wooden stick traced an arc in the air and landed precisely in the roadside trash can.

"Thump."

A soft sound.

Lin Wanwan turned around and looked at him questioningly: "What are you laughing at?"

"It's nothing."

Chen Zhi stood with his hands in his pockets, his tone indifferent.

"It just feels like this summer has only just begun."