The richest man started taking advantage of loopholes after joining Alibaba.

The nights in San Francisco carry the salty, damp air characteristic of the bay.

Lin Che did not go back to his room to rest.

He stood on the terrace of the Fairmont Hotel's executive lounge, holding the non-existent "Sequoia Capital Investment Agreement" in his hand—the bargaining chip he had just used to feign an attack on Mr. Ma.

Actually, it was just an ordinary Sequoia business card and a draft that he printed out in Starbucks in ten minutes.

In the capital market, this is called "credit endorsement".

At that moment, his phone screen was lit up.

The name displayed on the call screen is: Old Zhang (NY).

That vampire from the underground money exchange in Chinatown.

"Old Zhang."

Lin Che's voice was steady, carried on the sea breeze, "Have you seen the news?"

The sound of mahjong tiles clattering came from the other end of the phone, along with Old Zhang's usual hoarse laughter.

"I've seen it, young man. You're more famous than Jack Ma now. Everyone's talking about you, saying you're the next internet tycoon and your projects are worth a billion."

Old Zhang paused, a hint of probing in his voice, "What, with a net worth of ten billion, you still need to find someone like me who can't be seen in the light of day?"

"A billion is an estimated value, it's wealth on paper."

Lin Che flicked his cigarette ash, and the sparks drew a red line in the night.

"I need cash. Right now."

"How many?"

"Transfer all the US dollars you have at your disposal to me."

Lin Che stated a number, "I want to increase the leverage by five times."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

The only sound was the mahjong tiles falling onto the table.

Five times leverage.

For underground banks, this is no longer lending; it's playing with fire.

"What are you offering as collateral?" Old Zhang's voice turned cold. "Just a few news articles?"

"Just because of this."

Lin Che put his phone away and took a picture of the banquet hall behind him.

In the photo, Mr. Ma has his arm around the shoulder of a Goldman Sachs partner, and on the projection screen behind them, a line of large text is prominently displayed:

Strategic Partner: Weiguang Group – Valuation: Undisclosed

Send photos.

Three seconds later.

I could hear Old Zhang's rapid breathing coming from the other end of the phone.

Not disclosed.

In the financial world, these three words usually mean – astronomical price.

"young people."

Old Zhang's voice trembled slightly, "You're using Jack Ma as a pawn."

"Will you lend it to me, or not?"

Lin Che didn't want to hear any nonsense. "If you don't lend it to me, there are plenty of people in Chinatown who want to earn that interest."

"...Half an hour."

Old Zhang gritted his teeth and said, "The commission has gone up to thirty percent, and I need to see the cash."

"make a deal."

......

Half an hour later.

Lin Che looked at the huge sum of money that had appeared in his Interactive Brokers account.

In addition to the more than 40 million yuan he earned from shorting Yahoo, there was also the high-interest loan he borrowed from Lao Zhang.

His available funds pool reached an astonishing $1.5 million at this moment.

This is a fully loaded Gatling gun.

At this point, there were only 48 hours left before the roadshow ended.

All institutions have submitted their subscription intentions.

The market is waiting.

Waiting for that final pricing range.

Everyone knows that Alibaba's IPO is a done deal.

However, most retail investors cannot buy Alibaba's original shares.

Therefore, funds will flood into those "shadow stocks" that are deeply tied to Alibaba.

Yahoo holds a 24% stake in Alibaba.

SoftBank holds a 36% stake in Alibaba.

They are substitutes for Alibaba, and the only outlet for retail investors to vent their greed.

Lin Che sat on the wicker chair on the terrace and turned on his computer.

The light from the screen illuminated his expressionless face.

He did not hesitate at all.

It's like a tireless butcher raising his knife.

[Buy to open a position]

Target: Yahoo, call options

Target: SoftBank, call options

Expiry date: Next month's contract.

His purchasing power of 150 million was divided into hundreds of small orders, which, like a group of bloodthirsty piranhas, silently swam into the options pool.

He's going on a shopping spree.

It absorbs all the out-of-the-money call options listed on the market.

He drove up the price.

But he doesn't care.

Because he knew that two days later, when the news was announced, the price of these options would no longer be a few cents, but tens of dollars.

"All in."

Lin Che pressed the final confirmation button.

The account balance has been reduced to zero again.

Instead, the screen is filled with contract codes indicating open positions.

He shut down his computer.

The sea breeze tousled his hair.

He couldn't feel the cold; he could only feel the roar of his blood rushing through his veins.

This is not an investment.

This is a harvest of greed from all of humanity.

......

Two days later.

New York, Wall Street.

The roadshow concluded.

The lobby of the New York Stock Exchange was bustling with noise.

Although Alibaba has not officially listed yet, the hype has already ignited the market.

Lin Che sat in front of the television in the hotel.

Holding a glass of ice water in my hand.

He is waiting.

"Breaking news!"

CNBC's star host suddenly interrupted the program, his voice cracking with excitement:

Alibaba's IPO subscription was oversubscribed ahead of schedule!

[Pricing range increased to $66-$68!]

This is not just an over-quota.

This is an oversubscription of several tens of times.

Money from all over the world is flowing into this place.

The instant the news was broadcast.

US stocks have opened.

"boom--"

It was as if you could hear the roar of an engine.

Yahoo's stock price opened 8% higher.

SoftBank's stock price opened 10% higher.

This is only the underlying stock.

What Lin Che held in his hand were highly leveraged out-of-the-money options.

Option prices aren't rising, they're soaring.

+300%...

+500%...

+800%...

Those contracts he snapped up at rock-bottom prices have now become the most sought-after gold in the world.

Market makers went crazy, frantically covering their positions in an attempt to hedge against risk, but this only pushed prices even higher.

Lin Che looked at the screen.

The account net value column shows a number that has broken through eight digits and is heading towards nine digits.

$60,000,000...

$75,000,000...

$82,000,000...

Eighty-two million US dollars.

Five hundred million RMB.

On this ordinary afternoon, in a hotel room where no one knew.

Lin Che has completed the final step from a multi-millionaire to a billionaire.

He didn't yell.

There was no ecstasy.

Even his hands didn't shake.

Because all of this is in his script.

From the fraudulent transactions on WeChat group buying platforms, to Tencent's crackdown, to Sequoia Capital's rumors, and now to the harvesting of profits.

Every step is a carefully calculated necessity.

He picked up his phone and sent instructions to the brokerage firm:

[Close all positions]

It's best to secure the profits.

This time, he didn't linger in the fight.

Because he had already eaten the fattest and most delicious part of the fish.

Let the retail investors who follow the trend grab the remaining fish tail.

Funds are being recovered.

After deducting Lao Zhang's usurious loan and handling fees.

The final number that settled in his offshore account was:

$ 81,500,000 USD

Lin Che stood up and walked to the window.

The Manhattan sun was a bit too bright.

The street downstairs was bustling with pedestrians, each one striving for a monthly salary of a few thousand dollars.

And he has already reached the pinnacle.

"Lin Che".

He looked at his reflection in the glass and softly called his name.

The young man in the reflection was wearing an expensive suit, but his eyes still held the same look as the boy eating instant noodles in his rented room in Hangzhou.

But there was something else in those eyes.

That thing is called—authority.

They say when the right opportunity arises, even a pig can fly.

Lin Che stretched out his hand, as if to hold the entire city in his palm.

"But I'm not a pig."

He slowly clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white.

"I am the one who creates the wind."

......

At this time.

There was a knock on the door.

It's Lao Xiao.

"Lin Che! Are you inside? Mr. Ma wants you to prepare for tonight's chartered flight back home!"

Old Xiao's voice was brimming with undisguised excitement, "This roadshow was a huge success! Boss Ma said he's going to throw a celebration banquet when we get back, and he'll also give you a big red envelope!"

Red envelope?

Lin Che smiled.

That so-called "big bonus" is probably just a bonus of several hundred thousand yuan, or a few thousand shares of stock options that will vest over four years.

That's dog food for working people.

And he just sent himself a 500 million yuan red envelope.

"They're here."

Lin Che responded.

He picked up the old computer bag.

It contained all his wealth, and the sharp knife that was about to pierce the domestic logistics market.

I've made enough money.

Now, it's time to get back to business.

The plan to "stir up trouble" has been brewing in the country for two days.

The logistics for Singles' Day must be a volcano about to erupt by now, right?

Lin Che pushed open the door.

He wore that standard, loyal, P7 employee smile.

"Mr. Xiao, there's no need for Mr. Ma to give out red envelopes."

He spoke to Lao Xiao with a sincere look in his eyes.

"Being able to serve the company is my greatest blessing."

Old Xiao nodded repeatedly, moved: "Well done, young man! Keep up the good work when you get back to China, I have high hopes for you!"

The two walked side by side toward the elevator.

Lin Che walked in the shadows.

He silently completed the second half of the sentence in his mind:

"Because what I wanted was never a red envelope."

"What I want is this entire country."