Reborn in 2012, building a new energy empire

Jiang Haoran woke up in the hotel early the next morning.

The sky above Lujiazui outside the window was already turning white, with the morning light refracting between the glass curtain walls of the high-rise buildings.

He glanced at his phone; Zhou Mingyu had sent him a message at 8:30: "The funds have started the process and will arrive in your account within three business days."

After washing up, he went downstairs for breakfast, organizing his plans for the day.

I had arranged to meet my uncle, Chen Jingge, in the morning, and then returned to school in the afternoon.

On his way to his uncle's studio, Jiang Haoran gazed at the street scenes flashing past the window.

In this lifetime, he has already rapidly accumulated his initial capital.

Tens of millions of dollars cannot be managed smoothly by simply tapping a mobile phone in a dormitory.

He needs to diversify resources to reduce risk, reliable executors, and, more importantly, someone to share the risks and pressures.

His uncle, Chen Jingge, was the first person on his list.

Not only because of the proven abilities and principles from a past life, but also because of the old friendship that offered help in times of need. Some things are more worthy of entrustment than self-interest.

Jiang Haoran parked his car in front of the familiar office building and stepped inside.

The door opened, and Jiang Haoran walked into the familiar room, where the furnishings remained almost unchanged.

A few months ago, right here, he first translated future market trends into concrete trading strategies. Now, returning to this place, his mindset is different.

Chen Jingge looked up from behind the computer, a smile spreading across his face. "Haoran's here. Have a seat."

"Uncle." Jiang Haoran sat down on the sofa.

Chen Jingge handed over a cup of freshly brewed tea, his gaze lingering on his nephew for a couple of seconds before he suddenly smiled, "It's been a few months since I last saw you, you're quite different now."

"Really?" Jiang Haoran smiled.

"I can't quite put my finger on it." Chen Jingge leaned back in his chair, lit a cigar, and said, "I just feel that when you came last time, you were like an unsharpened knife, but now..." He exhaled a wisp of smoke and smiled, "Now you're like a knife sheathed."

Jiang Haoran lowered his head and took a sip of tea. The water temperature was just right, and the aroma of the tea leaves unfolded on his tongue.

He knew his uncle was wrong; a knife sheathed is often one that has already seen blood.

Jiang Haoran didn't respond to that question, but instead asked, "Uncle, how much did you profit from this market rally?"

Chen Jingge's eyes lit up, and he leaned back on the sofa: "According to the point we agreed on, I first put in 100,000 to test the waters. Later, you reminded me to add to the position, so I added another 100,000."

He got up, walked to the computer, typed a few keys, and brought up his account. "Once the market price broke through 3500, I asked a friend to lend me 300,000 yuan and bet it all on."

He pointed to the numbers flashing on the screen, his voice trembling with excitement: "Total funds are now 1.5 million, net profit is 1 million. Three times."

Jiang Haoran looked at the screen. The curve was steep, and the holdings details were clear—his uncle not only followed closely but also timed his purchases perfectly. This level of execution surpasses that of 80% of retail investors in the market.

"Uncle, you've got a great grasp of timing. Given time, you'll be a market giant too," Jiang Haoran exclaimed dramatically.

"It's still early, still early." Chen Jingge waved his hand, but couldn't stop smiling. "I used to dabble in things too, making and losing money, always just getting by. This time, following you, I've finally gotten the hang of it. I never thought that by doing this with you, I'd actually make a million. Your uncle really didn't spoil you for nothing when you were little."

After he finished speaking, he turned around, took two unopened boxes from the cabinet, and gently placed them on the coffee table.

"For you."

Jiang Haoran was taken aback.

"I was going to bring these with me next time I go home." Chen Jingge opened the box. "An iPhone 4S, the latest model. The laptop is a MacBook Air, thin and light, perfect for carrying around."

He patted the computer again, "This is more convenient for watching charts. It's a small token of my appreciation from your uncle."

Jiang Haoran looked at the gift in front of him. At that time, the iPhone 4S had just been released, priced at over five thousand yuan, and the MacBook Air cost even more, twelve thousand yuan.

This is no small sum for an ordinary person, and a warm feeling welled up in his heart.

He recalled his past life, how his uncle, no matter how successful he became, always brought his parents tonics and gave him red envelopes whenever he returned home.

In this life, my uncle is just starting out, yet he's so willing to spend money on himself like this. The warmth in my heart is real and profound.

"Uncle," Jiang Haoran looked up and smiled, "you've become a very wealthy man now, so I'll accept the honor without hesitation."

Chen Jingge laughed heartily: "You brat, don't be so polite with your uncle. There will be plenty of opportunities to make money in the future, this little bit is nothing."

Jiang Haoran didn't refuse anymore and reached out to take it. The outer shell of the packaging box felt slightly cool to the touch, but his palm gradually warmed up.

"Speaking of which," Chen Jingge leaned back on the sofa, a probing smile in his eyes, "you must have made quite a bit of money riding this wave of market trends, right? Give your uncle a heads-up?"

Jiang Haoran remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he picked up his phone, unlocked it, logged into his futures account, and turned the screen toward his uncle.

Chen Jingge leaned closer.

His gaze fell on the column for total equity and remained fixed.

He stretched out his finger and tapped the screen lightly, then tapped it again, as if trying to count the number of digits in the string.

"11.43 million? How much did you start with?" His voice was a little dry.

"Okay," Jiang Haoran replied, "Starting from 150,000."

Chen Jingge slowly leaned back on the sofa, took a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly. He hadn't lit the cigarette between his fingers; a small ash had accumulated.

"Three months...more than seventy times." He repeated it softly, then looked up at his nephew with a complicated expression. "How did you do that?"

Jiang Haoran pulled up the complete transaction records and scrolled through the screen page by page.

"Establish a base position around 3100, and add to the position with floating profits. Trade in waves during the upward trend, and reduce positions to lock in profits at key resistance levels." His fingertips hovered over several important turning points.

"Here, I sold 900 lots when the limit-up was broken; here, I bought back when it retraced to the 3700 support level and added to my position."

Chen Jingge stared at the densely packed transaction details.

Time, price, number of transactions... every transaction is executed as calmly as a machine's log.

This is not the gambler's luck, but the hunter's patience and precision.

He recalled how Jiang Haoran had sat in this room a few months ago, meticulously analyzing charts and graphs.

At that time, he only felt that his nephew had clear logic and good comprehension, but he never expected that this child would not only dare to think, but also dare to bet his entire fortune and earn such a staggering amount.

"Good lad..." Chen Jingge shook his head, finally laughing out loud, his laughter filled with satisfaction and emotion, "Quietly, you've made such a big fuss. I was just showing off my little bits and pieces to you..."

"That's different. It's my uncle's gift, it's a token of his affection." Jiang Haoran smiled and put his phone away.

"Uncle," Jiang Haoran changed the subject naturally, "your studio is now established. Are you still planning to go back to your old workplace?"

Chen Jingge understood the implied meaning. He lit another cigarette, and the smoke rose slowly.