After Divorce, I Can Hear the Future

Chapter 77: Life Is Like XX 

"President Lu, are you still listening?"

"Mm, I’m listening."

"It really wasn’t us who leaked your position."

"But you can’t say you’re completely without fault either."

Lu Liang’s tone was calm, making it impossible for Zhao Haisheng to discern his mood. Left with no choice, Zhao gritted his teeth and said, "President Lu, this was indeed an oversight on our part. Here’s what we can do: I just discussed with the higher-ups, and we’d like to waive your trading seat fees for the next three years. How does that sound?"

"Mm, that works."

Lu Liang bore no grudge against Guotai Securities or Zhao Haisheng. The matter was too far-reaching, entangled with international politics. Both he and Guotai were sacrificial pawns.

Shorting the yen meant that whichever broker he used, the transaction would ultimately be handled by a Japanese bank. Only Japanese banks held enough yen to meet the conditions for shorting. From the moment he decided to take a slice of the pie by shorting the yen, this outcome was inevitable.

"Mm. I’ve got something else to handle. Talk later."

As the doorbell rang, Lu Liang walked over to answer it.

Meng Changkun stepped out of the elevator and into the apartment. Glancing around, he remarked, "Not much different from my place."

"Have you eaten?" Lu Liang asked with a smile, inviting Meng to sit at the table.

"Yeah, but I could eat a little more," Meng replied as he grabbed a bowl and chopsticks without hesitation. "This cook you’ve got here is pretty good."

"Well, I’ve tried out a few before settling on this one. If you like, I can send her over to cook for you for a few days."

"No need. My wife brought a cook from back home, and their cooking suits me just fine."

The two chatted idly before Lu Liang started recounting the events of the previous night, explaining his analysis and the sequence of events.

Meng frowned as he listened. On the way over, he’d gone over the situation again, sensing several suspicious points. He hadn’t expected it to be so complex but reluctantly accepted Lu Liang’s explanation.

After a long pause, he said, "Politics isn’t something we can meddle in. It’s best not to get involved."

"Sure, this may feel like a silent loss, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. At least you’re now blazing hot in the domestic and international financial circles."

Meng, with his years of experience navigating the ups and downs of the business world, had seen his fair share of situations beyond one’s control—and he’d lived through a few himself.

There’s an old saying: Life is like XX—if you can’t resist, you might as well enjoy it.

Rather than endlessly debating who was responsible or who made him take the fall, it was better to think about how to leverage the massive wave of attention.

In all these years, China had seen its fair share of so-called stock gods. But Lu Liang was the first to harvest wealth from another nation’s citizens, particularly Japan—a country with historical grudges against China.

Not long ago, the territorial disputes had only just cooled. Now, Lu Liang’s actions could easily be seen as those of a national hero.

"Patriotic sentiment is a lucrative business," Meng said, envious. Despite the backlash, this kind of attention could elevate Lu Liang to almost divine status.

These days, foreign monks are often seen as better at chanting sutras. But here was a local talent, recognized internationally as a god of speculation.

Whether he started a public or private fund, the money would pour in like a flood.

"We’ll see about that. Eat more," Lu Liang replied, gesturing toward the food.

Meng’s perspective was sharp, driven entirely by a businessman’s instincts to prioritize profit. His suggestions were solid and practical, though he hadn’t considered the downsides of leaning into patriotic sentiment. That label could stick, and removing it later would be no easy feat.

"I'm full. You eat," Meng said, leaning back. He knew Lu Liang was someone with strong opinions and had only offered his perspective without pressing the matter.

"Got any tea? A meal isn’t complete without a post-meal cup," Meng asked.

"Some Maojian in the cabinet," Lu Liang replied.

"Green tea? Too bland," Meng grumbled, dialing his assistant to deliver a box of premium oolong tea.

Lu Liang ate as he scrolled through his phone, noticing his name trending eighth on Weibo’s hot search. In just one morning, his follower count had surged by 300,000, with countless comments asking if he had really made over $6 million overnight by shorting the yen.

"Not that much, but close enough," Lu Liang replied to one comment after some thought.

Meng had put it aptly: Life is like XX—if you can’t resist, you might as well enjoy it.

As for the $5 million-plus that Japan owed him, Lu Liang was determined to recover it—with interest.

The commenter quickly replied: "You noticed me! Boss, my admiration for you is as endless as the Yangtze River, flowing ceaselessly, like the Yellow River’s floodwaters, unstoppable… If you get rich, don’t forget me! Can I bask in some of your financial luck?"

Lu Liang’s follower count soon surpassed one million, thanks to a previous giveaway of smartphones. The efficiency of the raffle—announcing winners and shipping prizes the same day—had left recipients flaunting their winnings online.

This had drawn even more attention, with non-winners holding onto hope by hitting "follow" in case of another giveaway.

Lu Liang posted a photo of the Pujiang skyline with the caption: "The wind today is particularly lively~~ As usual, giving away eight phones."

Standing on the balcony, cigar in one hand and tea in the other, Meng grinned as he leaned against the railing. "Got a plan?"

He had set a special notification for Lu Liang’s Weibo account and received an alert the moment the post went live.

If Lu Liang wanted to avoid attention, he could have feigned ignorance, asked Weibo to take the hot search down, or dealt with it quietly.

Alternatively, he could have paid to redirect attention by leaking dirt on a random celebrity—an entertainment industry scapegoat would easily take the heat.

Given the speed at which internet trends shifted, Lu Liang’s story would have been forgotten in two days.

But instead, Lu Liang chose to acknowledge the attention and take control, suggesting he had a detailed plan in mind.

Lu Liang nodded. "I have some ideas, but I’ll need to wait a bit. When the time comes, I’ll need your support."

"We’re all on the same side. Just say the word—I won’t let you down."

Meng Changkun beamed with satisfaction. He had helped Lu Liang so much precisely to hear those words.

After their meal, the two shared a few cups of tea and chatted casually. Before long, Meng received a call and left in a hurry.

Lu Liang intended to catch up on some sleep, but no matter how he tossed and turned, he couldn’t drift off. Giving up, he decided to drive to the office.

The moment he stepped inside, all eyes turned to him. While this wasn’t unusual, the intensity of today’s gazes was markedly different—burning with excitement.

This was Lu Liang, the financial giant of China, who had shorted the yen and reportedly made over $6 million in a single night.

While most people might skim an article like that and forget it, his employees weren’t just anyone. To them, Lu Liang wasn’t just a name in a headline; he was their boss, a living legend who had seemingly stepped out of the realm of myths into reality.

The awe was especially evident in the eyes of two employees, top graduates from Peking University and Fudan University. Their expressions were filled with reverence, as if they were looking at a god.

Most people might not understand the intricacies of finance, but they did. And precisely because they understood, they knew just how monumental the feat was.

It was akin to pulling chestnuts from a roaring fire or stealing food from a tiger’s mouth—ripping open a gap in the impenetrable defenses of Western capital forces.

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