Returning to his senior year of high school, he went all in and made billions by buying at the botto

The bell had just rung for the third period when the commotion at the back door of the classroom drew the attention of the entire class.

Wang Hao clutched his stomach, hunched over, and trudged back to his seat with great difficulty.

His school uniform was covered in grass clippings and dirt, and there was a noticeable bruise on one side of his cheek.

The two physical education students following behind him were in an even worse state; one of them was clutching his chin and gasping for breath.

The other one walks with a limp and can't even straighten his back.

The three men, looking disheveled and disheveled, were completely different from the arrogant and domineering men they had been in the grove just a dozen minutes earlier.

In contrast, Chen Mo, sitting in the last row corner, had his clothes neatly arranged and his expression calm.

The classroom was deathly silent for three seconds, then erupted into a fierce murmur.

"Holy crap, what happened? Hao got beaten up by that new country bumpkin?"

"Are you blind?! Was that a one-on-one fight? That was Wang Hao and two others getting wiped out by one person!"

"I never would have guessed. That transfer student is usually so quiet, but he's so ruthless..."

The girls in the front row couldn't help but turn around frequently, their eyes filled with curiosity.

In the teenage years of school, strength and fighting ability are often the quickest ways to establish a deterrent effect.

The third row, by the window.

Su Qingyan paused slightly as she was working on the cloze test.

She subtly tilted her head slightly, her cool, peach-blossom eyes sweeping across most of the classroom before landing on Chen Mo.

A clear look of surprise flashed in the girl's eyes.

This transfer student... got into a fight? And won?

Su Qingyan's long eyelashes drooped slightly as her gaze returned to the textbook in front of her, but her thoughts drifted away.

She wasn't curious about the fight; she just felt that this boy named Chen Mo had a kind of aura that was out of place among his peers.

Is this really the transfer student from the rural middle school?

Seemingly noticing Su Qingyan's gaze, Chen Mo raised his eyelids, and their eyes briefly met in mid-air.

Chen Mo's gaze was calm as still water; he merely glanced at the scene briefly before lowering his head again.

Su Qingyan was stunned for a moment, her heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason, and she quickly looked away, her fair earlobes tinged with a barely perceptible blush.

At this moment, Wang Hao, who was sitting in the front row, caught his breath and glared fiercely at Chen Mo.

His eyes were filled with resentment and bitterness.

The boy sitting next to Wang Hao said in a low voice, "Brother Hao, are we just going to let this go like that? This kid is too arrogant!"

"What a load of crap!" Wang Hao gritted his teeth, pulling at the wound on the corner of his mouth, and gasped in pain.

"You wait until school's over. This country bumpkin probably has no idea who sits in my family's internet cafe every day! Dao Ge from South Street is my cousin's best buddy. This country bumpkin transfer student, I'll make him come to school on his knees tomorrow!"

The whispered threat and the surrounding classmates' chatter reached Chen Mo's ears without missing a single word.

In this small county town, families who run internet cafes or arcades often have intricate connections with the idle young people on the streets.

In the eyes of ordinary high school students, those "gangsters" with dyed yellow hair and tattoos of ribbonfish on their arms are definitely not to be messed with.

But Chen Mo didn't even lift his eyelids.

Seeking revenge on juvenile delinquents?

They're all just cowards who bully the weak and fear the strong. If Wang Hao really doesn't know what's good for him and sends people to ambush him, he wouldn't mind contributing to the county's security.

On the podium, the teacher is explaining the problem in a steady voice.

In the back row of the classroom, Chen Mo ignored the subtle stares and whispers around him.

time does not wait.

You must open an account as soon as possible.

Wei Shan has an ID card.

Funding is the biggest obstacle.

Wei Shan would definitely be willing to lend it, even if it were all his possessions.

Chen Mo had no doubt about this.

Throughout his past and present lives, Wei Shan's affection for his family has never changed.

But the question is, how much savings does Wei Shan have?

For a young man in his early twenties who works on construction sites and odd jobs in the county town and also has to take care of his ailing mother, saving three to five thousand yuan is probably the limit, and that would have to be done by tightening his belt.

This amount of money, if thrown into the upcoming bull market in A-shares, wouldn't even make a decent ripple.

He needs more, at least enough capital, to make a substantial profit in the first wave of the market and complete the initial capital leap.

Lottery?

The memory is hazy, the uncertainty is too high, and it requires waiting for a specific period of time.

Short-term usurious loans?

The risks are uncontrollable and violate his principles of conduct.

Can you leverage information asymmetry to start a small business?

The time frame is too long, which does not meet the requirement of speed.

Chen Mo tapped his index finger lightly on the edge of the open book, his brain working with unprecedented focus, frantically searching for the year 2014.

Is there a possibility in this small county town?

A legal, fast, and highly profitable opportunity that he can leverage with his current high school student status and extremely limited resources.

His gaze swept across the window, past the street signs, pedestrians, and vehicles in the distance.

In 2014... in the county town... in early autumn... something flickered faintly in the depths of my memory.

Suddenly, his tapping fingers stopped.

He suddenly remembered a nearly forgotten, very niche opportunity.

The "tractor account" and "channel fee" in the IPO frenzy.

The year 2014, especially the second half of the year and the first half of 2015, saw the most frenzied wave of IPO subscriptions in the history of A-shares since the resumption of new share issuance (IPO).

Because newly listed stocks often experience consecutive daily price limits, winning a lottery IPO is like winning the lottery, attracting countless funds scrambling to participate.

However, the success rate for individual investors is extremely low, which has led to the emergence of a gray market practice.

Large investors or institutions use their financial advantage to open hundreds or even thousands of so-called "tractor accounts" through trust or securities firms, spreading their large funds and subscribing to the maximum limit in each account, thereby greatly increasing their chances of winning the lottery.

Opening these accounts requires a large number of real, different people's ID cards.

In counties and towns with underdeveloped financial systems, these ID cards are often collected by paying locals a fee to rent them.

Chen Mo's eyes narrowed slightly.

Wei Shan was the fulcrum that helped him reach the edge of this gray chain.

Wei Shan works at the bottom of the county town. Most of his coworkers and fellow villagers are in a similar group. They have unused ID cards and are likely interested in the easy and quick money that can be made by "borrowing an ID card to open a stock account and getting a couple hundred yuan".

More importantly, Wei Shan is a genuine person, and he has a certain level of trust among these migrant workers of the same age.

Chen Mo doesn't need to organize large-scale events himself; that would be too conspicuous and prone to problems.

All he needed to do was find, through Wei Shan, the "middleman" who might exist in the county town and collected ID cards for certain funding parties in the city or province.

His goal wasn't to create his own bot account for IPO subscriptions, but rather to sell an efficient ID screening and preliminary verification solution to the middleman.

As a former private equity professional, Chen Mo is well aware of the problems that people who collect ID cards will encounter: false identities, mismatched appearances, accounts being reported lost by the original owners after opening, legal disputes, and so on.

A reliable source of identification can greatly reduce their risks and subsequent troubles.

He could design a simple set of screening criteria and scripts and teach them to Wei Shan.

Wei Shan was instructed to select a group of suitable ID card holders from among his familiar and reliable fellow villagers and coworkers under the guise of "introducing friends to open accounts to earn some cigarette money."

Then, these high-quality resources are packaged and introduced to that middleman.

In return, he can take a considerable referral fee per person.

In the frenzied environment of 2014, a clean and reliable source of identity card could command a significant premium.

If handled properly, it's not a pipe dream to successfully introduce a dozen or twenty people through Wei Shan's initial screening and earn thousands or tens of thousands in information fees.

This is faster and safer than him personally going out to do manual labor, arbitrage, or other small businesses.

My thoughts became clear instantly.

Chen Mo took a deep breath, suppressing the slight turmoil in his heart.

That's what I'll do. After school, I'll go find Wei Shan, get his ID card, and open my own stock account.

Then, persuade him to participate in the project.

To start, they borrowed all of Wei Shan's savings, promising to repay double, and immediately began searching for the middleman.

The bell finally rang, signaling the end of get out of class.

Chen Mo was the first to stand up, picked up his faded old schoolbag, and walked out of the classroom without looking back, under the gazes of countless people with different meanings.