Super Rich: Starting the game by going back ten years to buy Bitcoin

Looking up, I saw the U8 turn into the access road at the entrance of Tai'an Gate, slow down, and stop.

Li Yichen looked out through the windshield—two people were standing side by side in front of the bronze door frame of Tai'an Gate.

The one on the left is Xiao Yuqing. She's changed out of her floral sundress and is wearing a light blue fitted dress today. Her hair is down, and she's crossing her arms in front of her chest. She's standing very straight, and her face is clean and uncluttered.

He had never seen the one on the right before.

She was a little over 1.7 meters tall, slightly shorter than Xiao Yuqing. She wore black suit pants, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm, and her hair was neatly pinned up. Her entire demeanor was completely different from Xiao Yuqing's—Xiao Yuqing was gentle, while this person was strong.

Shen Ruolan.

Li Yichen pushed open the car door and got out.

As his feet touched the ground, he saw Shen Ruolan's gaze shift slightly behind him—glancing at the dragon stone green U8.

It was just a glance. He quickly looked away.

But that glance contained a lot of information. People in finance don't look at people first; they look at assets.

Li Yichen walked over, his steps a beat faster than usual. When he reached her, he looked at Shen Ruolan and gave her a slight bow.

"Ms. Shen, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. There was a slight delay on the way."

Shen Ruolan extended her right hand.

"It's okay, we just arrived too."

Li Yichen grasped it. His palm was dry, the pressure was just right, neither too soft nor too hard, and the rhythm was precise—the timing of releasing his grip was perfect, neither dragging nor rushing.

The moment her hand loosened, Shen Ruolan's peripheral vision slid down a bit.

It landed on Li Yichen's left wrist.

A watch. Green ceramic bezel, black dial, Oyster case, leaf-shaped hands.

Shen Ruolan's pupils contracted slightly.

Patek Philippe. GMT-Master II.

She recognized the watch. Not just recognized it, but had seen the same model just three days prior at the Patek Philippe boutique in Hang Lung Plaza. She had accompanied a client to look at watches then, and that one was displayed prominently in the center of the showcase, priced at ten million. It was the store's prized possession; even trying it on required an appointment.

This watch is now hanging on the wrist of the young man in his twenties in front of me.

The car is a Yangwang U8, worth millions. The clothes are from Brioni's bespoke line, worth hundreds of thousands. The watch is a Patek Philippe, worth ten million.

Shen Ruolan quickly went through the numbers in her mind, piecing together an outline.

This person is no ordinary individual.

Her back straightened almost imperceptibly.

Li Yichen didn't notice her little actions. Or rather, he did notice them, but ignored them.

He turned to the side and raised his chin toward the bronze gate of Tai'an Gate.

"Let's go inside and talk."

The three people entered the room.

The lobby was lit with warm yellow lights, and the marble floor was so polished it reflected images. Li Yichen walked to the front desk and gave his name.

"Li Yichen, Box Six."

The receptionist checked, then stood up with a smile.

"Mr. Li, Mr. Zhang has already made arrangements for you. This way, please."

A waiter in a black uniform approached from the side, leading the three through the corridor, around a corner, and stopping in front of a wooden door at the end of the corridor.

Push the door open.

The private room wasn't large, but it was tastefully decorated. The mahogany tabletop gleamed, and eight seats surrounded a round table. Two cold dishes—braised beef and drunken chicken—were already laid out on the central ladle.

When Zhang Guodong booked the private room during the day, he even ordered the dishes for him.

Li Yichen made a mental note of this favor—he would have to repay it later.

The three of them took their seats. Xiao Yuqing sat to Li Yichen's right, and Shen Ruolan sat directly opposite him.

The waiter stood at the door, waiting for instructions.

Li Yichen glanced at the table, then turned to the waiter and spoke.

"Bring me a good bottle of red wine."

"Okay, sir. We have a 2015 Lafite second label here, and also—"

"Lafite will do."

The waiter responded and turned to leave the private room. The door closed behind him.

The private room fell silent.

The cold dishes on the turntable emitted a faint aroma of soy sauce, and the dim light on the wall cast long shadows of the three people.

Li Yichen turned his gaze from the table to Shen Ruolan across from him.

"Ms. Shen, I heard from Yuqing that you work in finance?"

Shen Ruolan placed her hands on the table, her ten fingers interlaced, sitting upright.

"Yes. I have a background in financial engineering. After graduation, I worked at Rongxin Capital for more than three years, mainly focusing on futures and derivatives trading."

She paused for a moment.

"However, I resigned from the company last month."

I resigned.

Quitting is great! That's wonderful. While employed, you have to deal with company disputes, take leave, and handle conflicts of interest. Quitting means starting from scratch, clean and ready to get back to work anytime.

"Is it convenient to say why you left your job?"

Shen Ruolan picked up the teacup in front of her, took a sip, and put it down.

"Due to internal company restructuring, the team I led was laid off."

Four words—laid off. Spoken casually, without a trace of resentment. But the word "laid off" carries a heavy weight. For those in quantitative finance, if their team is laid off, it's either because the strategy is no longer working, or the company thinks the costs are too high.

Li Yichen didn't pursue that topic. It wasn't important. What mattered was whether this person was usable.

Shen Ruolan pushed the teacup towards the center of the table and looked up.

"Mr. Li, I heard from Yuqing that you're planning to invest in the futures market. You've asked me to manage your portfolio, right?"

Straight ball.

That's how people in finance talk—they beat around the bush and waste time; time is money, and every second counts.

Li Yichen leaned back in his chair and rested his arms on the armrests.

"Yes. I've recently had an idea to make a move in silver futures. The direction is clear, but we need a professional to execute it."

Shen Ruolan's fingers paused and tapped on the table.

silver.

She was extremely familiar with this stock. During the last six months of her tenure at Rongxin Capital, she led her team to focus on the precious metals sector, including silver, gold, and platinum. At its peak, she had invested 80 million yuan in silver.

"You have a direction? What direction?"

"We'll talk about the specifics later," Li Yichen tilted his head. "Let's discuss the commission first. If I hire you to manage the trades, how will the percentage be calculated?"

Shen Ruolan pulled her chair forward a bit and placed her hands on the table.

"The industry standard commission rate is 20% to 30% of the profits."

She paused for half a second.

"I'll take thirty percent."

Li Yichen frowned slightly.

Thirty percent.

The number flashed through my mind. If the silver price movement followed the chart provided by the system, the initial capital of 1.3 billion, leveraged, would yield profits of at least several hundred billion. Thirty percent—30% of those several hundred billion—could I take out?

There was a knock on the door at that moment.

A waiter pushed open the door carrying a bottle of red wine, followed by two food runners with trays stacked with three or four hot dishes—squirrel-shaped mandarin fish, crab meat lion's head meatballs, black truffle scrambled eggs, and braised pork belly.

The waiter showed the wine bottle, and Li Yichen nodded.

The cork was unscrewed, and the wine was poured into three deep red wine glasses, which were then swirled twice under the light.

Li Yichen picked up his cup and raised it towards Shen Ruolan.

"Let's eat and talk first."

The three glasses clinked together. The crisp sound of glass hitting glass echoed throughout the private room.

The waiter arranged the dishes neatly and left. The door closed again.

Li Yichen put down his wine glass and rubbed his fingers on the stem of the glass.

"Thirty percent is too high."

Shen Ruolan's chopsticks had just picked up a piece of lion's head meatball, but they stopped in mid-air. She didn't rush to put it in her mouth, nor did she rush to object.

"Ms. Li, futures trading is not like stock trading." She put the lion's head meatball back on the plate. "Leveraged trading is like walking on a knife's edge with every trade. I take 30% because I also bear the risk of losses—if the strategy fails, the client loses their principal, but I lose my reputation and my career. That's just how this industry is."

Clear and well-organized. Logically sound.

If someone who doesn't know the industry heard this, they would probably nod in agreement.

Li Yichen shook his head.

"Thirty percent impossible."

He placed the chopsticks on the edge of the plate.

"I'll tell you a number, and you can give me a quote after you hear it."

Shen Ruolan's hand stopped on the wine glass.

"I'm prepared to invest 1.3 billion yuan in silver futures."

The private room fell silent.

It wasn't a polite pause; it was genuine silence—the air seemed to have been cratered by that number, and all the sounds seemed to have fallen into it.

Shen Ruolan's fingers froze on the glass for almost two seconds.

Thirteen billion.

She worked at Rongxin Capital for over three years, and the largest deal she handled was 200 million yuan. When the 200 million yuan came in, the entire team stared at the screen, their hearts pounding along with the stock chart.

Thirteen billion.

Six and a half times.

Her mind raced—with a principal of 1.3 billion, leveraged in the futures market, what scale could the position reach? 5 billion? 8 billion? If the market moved in the right direction, the profit margin would be—

I dare not calculate any further.

Shen Ruolan picked up her wine glass and took a sip. Only when the wine went down her throat did she realize that her hand was a little unsteady.

She put down the cup and placed both hands on the table.

Xiao Yuqing sat to Li Yichen's right and remained silent.

Her hands rested on her knees, and the fabric of her skirt was unconsciously tugged, creating a small crease.

Thirteen billion.

Yesterday, when he gave his ex-girlfriend 9.45 million yuan to pay off her debts, she thought the amount was outrageous enough.

Today, this person told her in front of her that he was going to invest 1.3 billion yuan in the futures market.

It's as casual as reporting your own weight.

Someone who can casually take out 1.3 billion to invest—what is their total net worth? Billions? Tens of billions?

Xiao Yuqing tugged at the hem of her skirt again.

Would a man of this caliber lack female companionship?

Will not.

Never.

She tried to suppress the thought, but couldn't. It lingered in her mind like a thin layer, impossible to shake off.

Shen Ruolan has already recovered. For people in finance, emotional management is a fundamental skill. Even with huge numbers, panicking for two seconds is acceptable, but panicking for a third second is unprofessional.

She raised her head and straightened her posture.

"Thirteen billion."

She repeated the number, not to confirm it, but to calibrate her own judgment framework.

"So, what commission rate do you think is appropriate?"

Li Yichen looked at her.

two seconds.

Then he raised his right hand and slowly extended one finger.

Shen Ruolan stared at the finger, her lips slightly parted.

"Ten percent?"