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

The number of open positions is still jumping up.

74.2 billion.

Eight hundred and ten billion.

Nine hundred and thirty-six billion.

The last transaction clicked shut, and the string of numbers in the upper left corner of the screen froze.

121 billion.

All positions have been established.

Shen Ruolan lifted her hands off the keyboard, her wrists hovering in the air for two seconds before slowly placing them on her thighs.

This time she didn't ask why.

She asked about the last round of short selling, and was slapped in the face with 10.8 billion; she asked about the last round of long selling, and was slapped in the face with 38 billion.

The third time, she learned her lesson.

Why are you asking?

The only sounds in the living room were the hum of keyboards cooling down and the low whirring of several computer towers.

Chen Hao leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen with his chin tucked in. The thought that had been racing through his mind was still on his mind—this time they had staked 120 billion.

What is this guy made of?

Li Yichen stepped back from behind Shen Ruolan and stood by the French windows.

The buildings across the Huangpu River swayed in the sunlight.

Deep in his mind, the system panel remained quietly lit. The third curve on the chart curved down from a high of $95, the arc gentle, not a sharp drop, but a slow, gradual decline.

Slow means long.

Twelve days.

---

The atmosphere in the living room was different for the next twelve days compared to the previous two rounds.

The first two rounds were a tense, nerve-wracking experience.

In this round, the sheer volume of numbers had worn down the group of people into a strange kind of dullness.

Silver is falling.

It's falling every day.

It's not fast; it drops by one or two dollars a day. The trend chart shows a slowly downward sloping line. There's no sharp drop or rebound; it just keeps going down quietly.

On the third day, it cost ninety-one dollars.

Day 5, $87.

Every morning, the first thing Chen Hao does after getting out of his folding bed is rush to the screen to check the prices.

After watching it, he poured himself a glass of water, sat back down, and stared at the screen without saying a word.

There was much less talking compared to the previous two rounds.

It's not that I have nothing to say—it's that once that string is loosened, I find myself speechless.

Zhang Xiaoyan's diary turned to a new page.

The line for the sixth day reads:

"My grandma saved five yuan her whole life, and every time she took it out, she said it was her life-saving money. How many grandmas' life-saving money could we buy with what we earned in these twelve days? We can't even count it, we can't even count it."

Meng Yinuo's risk control system has never issued any major alarms. He spends most of his time sitting in his chair with his head resting on the back of the chair and his eyes closed, but his ears are perked up.

His eyelids twitched whenever the numbers in any account changed.

Lin Jie never took off his headphones all day long.

Shen Ruolan is the most stable among them.

But being stable doesn't mean you don't feel anything.

On the eighth night, the food delivery arrived. When she went to open the door and took the insulated box, the deliveryman glanced at her—probably wondering why so many people in this building kept ordering so much food.

She ignored them, brought the suitcase in, opened the lid, and invited a few people to eat.

I moved my chopsticks a couple of times, but didn't eat much.

She sat at the table, resting her chin on her hand, looking at the several lit screens in the living room.

Profits of several hundred billion.

This number will eventually end up on Li Yichen's card.

She thought about it for a moment, wondering who in the industry would believe she had taken on this job.

A young man in his early twenties, along with six recently laid-off quantitative traders, turned 1.3 billion yuan into several hundred billion yuan in 30 days in a 200-square-meter apartment in Pudong, Shanghai.

I won't believe it.

Any finance professional with more than three years of experience would recognize this as the opening line of a scam text message.

But it's true.

Facts don't lie.

---

The twelfth day.

It was a little past three in the afternoon.

Silver price: $76.

Li Yichen stood up from the sofa.

Deep in my mind, the curve on the system trend chart extends to this point and stops—beyond which lies a blank white expanse, with no data.

The one-month window has been used up.

He didn't know whether it would fall or rise further.

There's no need to know.

"Miss Shen."

Shen Ruolan had already sat up straight.

"Close all positions."

This time, Shen Ruolan didn't pause or ask any questions; she simply placed her hand on the mouse.

"Everyone in position, begin closing positions."

Six people started moving at the same time.

The sound of keyboards clattering filled the air as over 120 billion in short positions were broken down into countless orders, which poured out in batches through the buy channels.

An hour later, the last transaction was completed.

The number of positions on the screen has dropped to zero.

The numbers have settled.

Profit for this round: 260,000,000,000.

Two hundred and six billion.

Su Jie pulled her hands away from the mouse, placed them on her knees, straightened her back, then slumped down, then straightened up again, like someone who had just run a marathon, unsure whether to relax or remain tense.

Chen Hao turned his chair around, facing away from the screen, with his hands on his knees, head down, and shoulders shaking.

I'm not crying, I'm just trembling.

I can't control it.

Meng Yinuo minimized the window on the risk control terminal, closed her laptop, put her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, and sank deeply into the back of her chair.

Shen Ruolan stood up and walked to Li Yichen.

"Two hundred and sixty billion." She said the number aloud, listened to it herself, and only then did she truly believe it. "Including the first two rounds, and the principal, the total is—"

"Seven hundred and fifty-eight billion."

When Li Yichen heard the number, he was still shocked, even though he had been mentally prepared. He then asked Shen Ruolan to transfer all the funds to his account.

Upon hearing Li Yichen's words, Shen Ruolan nodded and began operating the computer, consolidating the funds from the fifteen accounts one by one and transferring them to Li Yichen's account.

The progress bar on the transfer interface moves one step at a time.

With each move, Li Yichen's account balance would jump once.

Until all the transfers are completed, the total is 75.8 billion.

When the number stopped on the screen, no one in the living room moved.

Chen Hao raised his head, glanced in that direction, moved his mouth slightly, but made no sound.

Li Yichen locked his phone, put it in his pocket, and turned to look at Shen Ruolan.

"commission."

Shen Ruolan gave her the card number.

Li Yichen opened the transfer page and entered the amount—7,580,000,00.

758 million.

confirm.

A notification sound came from the bank indicating the transfer was successful.

Shen Ruolan's phone vibrated.

She glanced down at the payment notification, closed her phone, and remained silent.

How to divide these seven hundred million is a matter for her and her five partners.

Li Yichen took a stack of documents out of his bag and placed them on the table.

"Confidentiality Agreement".

The six people took turns looking at it, and no one raised any objections.

The events of the past month have been far too significant. Revealing them would do no good for anyone.

Chen Hao took the pen and lowered his head to sign. His wrist was still trembling, and there were two extra lines in the characters compared to usual, but he still signed it.

After Su Jie finished signing, she placed the pen horizontally on the table, pressed it down with both hands, and calmed her breathing.

Once all six signatures were collected, Li Yichen put the contract away and tucked it into a folder.

Then he looked up at those faces.

One month.

More than thirty days.

"You've been locked up for so long, come on, I'll treat you to dinner."

Shen Ruolan turned her head, her brow twitching slightly.

"Where should we eat?"

"You tell me."

Chen Hao was the first to react, and the chair leg slid on the floor with a sound.

"Could we go to the Peace Hotel?"

Zhang Xiaoyan stuffed the notebook into her bag, and within two seconds, a glint of determination appeared in her eyes.

"Yes, yes, I've always wanted to go too."

Su Jie turned her head to look at Shen Ruolan, who did not object and raised her chin at Li Yichen.

"Since you're treating, we won't stand on ceremony. We're going to the most expensive place."

Li Yichen reached out his hand.

"Alright, let's go to the Peace Hotel then. Once we get there, just eat as much as you want."

Six people, one by one, closed their laptops, stuffed their things into their bags, and ping-pong balls were played. The tranquility of the entire living room was completely dispelled by this lively atmosphere.

The elevator doors opened on the 32nd floor, and several people rushed in.

At the entrance of the residential area, the green U8 is still sitting in its original spot in the parking lot.

Fortunately, Li Yichen's car was a six-seater version. Although there were seven of them in total, one was too many, but they managed to squeeze in.

Li Yichen opened the car door, got in, and then turned on the navigation.

The navigation page is now lit up.

"The Bund, the Peace Hotel."

The car turned a corner on the Bund riverside road. The old building of the Peace Hotel was lit up in the night. The revolving glass door of the main entrance slowly turned, cutting the warm yellow light inside into segments.

Li Yichen parked the car, opened the door, and got out.

The doorman stepped forward and bent down.

"Welcome, sir."

Chen Hao jumped out of the car, looked up at the building, tilted his neck back as far as it would go, and then pulled it back.

He patted Meng Yinuo next to him.

"You said we just got out of jail, and our first meal was at the Peace Hotel—"

Meng Yinuo took her hand out of her pocket and pushed open the revolving glass door.

"Let's go inside and talk."

Several people followed and filed in. The revolving door turned step by step, keeping the night wind out.

The lights in the hall shone down, warm and steady, casting a soft halo on the floor.

Li Yichen walked at the front.

The receptionist approached and spoke to Li Yichen—

"Are you here for dinner?"

Li Yichen nodded.

"Yes, we're having dinner. Do you have any private rooms?"

The usher opened the tablet in his hand and checked it.

"Sir, yes, how many people are eating in total?"

"Seven people, we need the best private room," Li Yichen said to the hostess.

"Alright, everyone, please follow me!" The host then turned around and led Li Yichen and the others toward the private room.