[Urban] The City of Lost Virginity (Complete) - Part 1

[Synopsis]
The protagonist, Shang Rong, goes bankrupt from stock trading and falls into poverty. His wife leaves him after having an affair. By chance, he makes a comeback and becomes involved in a battle for a huge fortune. Around this fortune, all sorts of people compete for power.
Scenes of ugliness unfold in the darkness. The protagonist even lives a polygamous life in modern society. The novel's plot is thrilling and gripping.

Volume 1: Ordinary People,

Chapter 1: Extramarital Rape .
It's raining outside, and a cool breeze blows raindrops in through the open window.
Shang Rong, who will turn 32 in three days, sits in front of the computer, staring blankly at the stock market index. Looking at the green, pulsating data is like looking into the eyes of countless wolves in the night.
1.2 million. Only 60,000 left. Everything seems like a dream. Everything is so unreal. Only the curtains fluttering in the wind and the occasional cold raindrops hitting his face remind him that he is still conscious.
Everything is over. He was penniless again. At that moment, Shang Rong's heart was as cold as the autumn rain outside the window.
That very night, his wife, Lin Zihui, handed him a divorce petition. "I expect to see your name signed by tomorrow morning."
With that, she swayed her round buttocks into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.
"Fuck you, you slut!"
Shang Rong cursed inwardly. For a moment, he truly wanted to kill someone.
Actually, Shang Rong had long sensed this day would come. Three months ago, he had sensed Zihui's infidelity through his sixth sense, but he lacked evidence. Besides, it was better not to seek such evidence.
Some men always wanted to know what kind of man their wives slept with, secretly following and investigating, as if they wouldn't rest until they saw their wives in bed with another man. Shang Rong thought that was just rubbing salt into his wounds, not worth emulating.
What did it matter what kind of man he was? Perhaps it was a wealthy man, perhaps his wife's boss, perhaps a handsome young man, or even just a beggar on the street—in short, a man who, when you weren't paying attention, while you weren't fully engaged with your wife, entered your territory and arbitrarily cultivated the land that belonged to you.
Shang Rong's mind flashed back to the image of his wife's fair, delicate body undulating beneath a blurry-faced man. He seemed to hear her seductive, rapid moans, and feel the tightening of her vagina and the waves of heat during her orgasm. Zi Hui was shy, only completely abandoning her reserve during orgasm, murmuring intermittently from her slightly parted lips some words she would normally find difficult to utter. These lewd words that made men's blood boil were what he had taught her in bed over the years. He had essentially developed this woman, transforming her from a shy, innocent girl into a sexy and alluring beauty. But now this beauty no longer belonged to him; that once exclusive, unspeakable side of her had been tasted by another man. But who could he blame?
Everything revolved around stocks.
Shang Rong himself didn't understand why he had become obsessed with stocks. Stocks had initially caused him to neglect his business, and now they had brought his wife another man.
For the past two years, Shang Rong felt his surname wasn't Shang but Bei (meaning bad luck), a combination of misfortune and utter bad luck. Why else would the market have been in freefall ever since he entered the stock market? Why was it as if some demonic hand was controlling him, always making him buy at the highest point and sell at the lowest? Why did he always manage to catch a new round of decline whenever he tried to buy on a rebound? This bad
luck wasn't just limited to stocks; it also affected his health.
Since entering the market, his manhood had become much weaker. Every time he breathlessly rolled off Zi Hui, she would say disdainfully, "Your thing is almost as worn out as your stocks."
Shang Rong would always remain silent in shame, anxiously waiting for a miracle. He knew that if the stock market couldn't recover, his weakness would never have a chance to improve.
The reality was that the stock market continued to relentlessly create new lows every day, and he grew weaker and weaker day by day. It was during those weak days that Zi Hui cheated on him.
Shang Rong carried an old leather suitcase containing a few of his clothes. As the door slammed shut behind him, he looked up at the room number. Room 401. It used to be his home. Who knew whose home it would be in the future? Perhaps tomorrow a strange man would move in, sleep in the big bed he had slept in, and have sex with the woman he had slept with, while that woman repeated the lewd words she had said to the new man.
A pang of heartache shot through him. Shang Rong clutched his chest, spat at the door, and turned to leave.
This was an old-fashioned building from the 1980s, a humble little room that people of that era were proud of but would be looked down upon by people today. He was grateful to his parents for leaving him this little hut, providing him with shelter from the wind and rain when he was homeless.
As Shang Rong approached the building entrance carrying a tattered suitcase, he saw five or six elderly neighbors with white hair—his parents' surviving friends—staring at him with wide, dim eyes, as if he were an alien.
These were seasoned veterans, experienced in the ways of the world, well-versed in the coldness and warmth of human nature. From Shang Rong's gray, dejected face and the tattered suitcase in his hand, they could tell all the tragic stories that had befallen him.
What an arrogant man he once was! Now he had to return to this dilapidated house to lick his wounds. Young man, experience is the best teacher; those who don't heed the advice of elders will suffer the consequences!
Ashamed and indignant, Shang Rong scurried into the building like a stray dog, leaving behind a trail of whimpering sounds.
After his divorce, Shang Rong held a simple ceremony in the dilapidated house his parents had left him. Of course, only he attended. He poured himself a cup of liquor, scrutinized himself in the mirror for a long time, raised his cup, and said, "Cheers, you bastard!"
Then he began his reclusive life.
Shang Rong seemed to be intentionally punishing himself. He lowered his standard of living to the bare minimum, eating only instant noodles and drinking tap water. His only luxuries were cigarettes and liquor.
His computer was no longer a tool for analyzing stocks, but a toy he, as an adult, could never tire of; in fact, he never looked at the stock market again.
For a while, he became obsessed with strategy games, feeling like a commander-in-chief, directing every battle set in the game. Later, he started browsing adult forums, indulging in the lust of women from all over the world, until the mere sight of pornography reminded him of the taste of instant
noodles. He never went out during the day, only sneaking out of the building like an abandoned dog at night or at the crack of dawn, wandering aimlessly along the dark streets. Sometimes, looking at the brightly lit windows, he would think of his old home, of that woman, imagining what she was doing at that moment. A wave of confusion would wash over him, as if countless eyes were watching him from the shadows. Then, as if fleeing, he would return home to continue his dreary existence.
Days passed by without a wife, without women, just him, utterly alone.
When computer games became tasteless and pornographic forums offered nothing new, Shang Rong sank into endless sleep, dreaming all sorts of bizarre dreams. Once, he dreamt of his deceased mother, who looked exactly the same, unchanged. She stood by his bedside, tears welling in her eyes, and said, "If you really can't bear it anymore, come sooner rather than later."
This was the best dream he'd ever had; the others always left him drenched in sweat and waking with a splitting headache. Finally, the endless sleep was followed by insomnia; he often stared at a black dot on the wall for seven or eight hours straight, lost in a void.
That day, Shang Rong was lying in bed daydreaming when he seemed to hear a knocking sound. At first, he ignored it, thinking it was part of his dream. But the increasingly urgent knocking finally pulled him back to reality.
Someone outside wanted to come in.
He lay in bed imagining the person knocking, hoping to weave them into his daydream.
The knocker seemed to know his intentions, knocking even more persistently, each knock like a blow to his heart. Shang Rong finally couldn't take it anymore. He cursed and got out of bed, angrily opening the door.
A woman, a rather beautiful woman; he couldn't remember any other woman he had ever been involved with. "You've knocked on the wrong door."
The woman sneered, shoving Shang Rong aside and stepping into the house as if it were her own.
She frowned, looking around at everything: four or five instant noodle bowls on the table; an ashtray next to the computer piled high with cigarette butts; and dozens of empty bottles lined the wall, as if under their owner's inspection. The room reeked of ammonia.
"Shang Rong, stop pretending to be an idiot. You're already convincingly idiotic."
What a familiar voice, what sharp insight! Who else in this world could it be but her?
Shang Rong slapped himself. "I'm so blind, I can't even recognize my own wife."
Zi Hui ignored his teasing, taking a piece of paper and a pen from her bag and throwing them on the table. "Take a look and sign it."
It was an IOU.
Lin Zihui looked at Shang Rong and said, "Back then, I lent you 150,000 yuan to invest in stocks. I've already paid it back. Now you owe me. I know you don't have the money to pay me back, so writing an IOU isn't unreasonable, is it?"
Shang Rong thought about it and realized it was true. He picked up a pen and wrote his name on the paper. Anyway, he wasn't afraid of getting burned, and he didn't care about 150,000 yuan, or even 1.5 million yuan.
Zihui seemed surprised that Shang Rong signed the IOU so readily. She picked up the IOU and looked at it suspiciously for a while, then stood up and looked Shang Rong up and down again. "I almost don't recognize you anymore. You'd better watch yourself."
After saying that, she swayed her hips and walked towards the door.
This woman's buttocks seemed even bigger than before. Although she was wearing a short skirt, Shang Rong could still picture its complete shape in his mind. The roundness, the snow-white color, the oily feel, the alluring crevice between the two halves. A string in Shang Rong's heart was touched, and the long-dormant desire instantly ignited throughout his body. He had only one thought: to grab her buttocks and fuck her hard.
"Wait a minute..."
Shang Rong felt like his voice wasn't his own, like the howl of a hungry wolf.
Zi Hui was startled, stopped, and turned around. She saw her ex-husband's hungry eyes fixed on her buttocks. She instantly understood the man's desire, her heart trembled, and her face burned. What did he want to do? Could it be that he wanted to...? "Is there anything else?"
Before Zi Hui could finish speaking, Shang Rong was already in front of her, panting heavily. He grabbed his ex-wife's shoulders and pressed her face down on the table where they had just signed the papers. Then, with one hand on her back, he reached for her short skirt.
Zi Hui couldn't believe her ex-husband would do this. They had been married for ten years, and she had never seen anything like this before. Her usually gentle husband was always incredibly tender in bed and had never been rough with her. At this moment, Zi Hui felt confused. He was clearly trying to rape her. They were already divorced; this was rape... By the time Zi Hui realized what was happening, she felt a chill on her buttocks as her stockings and underwear were pulled down to her knees. "You bastard...you...what are you doing..."
she said, kicking back with one foot, but the man had her legs spread wide, so she couldn't get any strength in and couldn't kick him at all.
"What am I doing? Do you even need to ask...of course I'm fucking you...what...it's not the first time...let me fuck you again...I miss you so much..."
Shang Rong rambled incoherently, kneading her tempting, plump buttocks. After a few kneads, he inserted his hand into Zi Hui's buttocks, and a finger slid into the woman's dry vagina.
Zi Hui felt a sharp pain in her vagina and twisted her buttocks to try to escape the man's invasion, but the twisting of her buttocks only made her more comfortable for the man's finger to thrust in and out of her vagina. After only a few twists, she felt the finger go in even deeper. "Let me go...you're...raping me...you...bastard...let me go..."
Hearing Zi Hui call him a bastard, Shang Rong recalled how he used to entice her into saying lewd things when she was being fucked beneath him, her mind clouded. At first, she would hold back, but under the thrusts of his hard penis, as waves of fluid surged, she would cover her face and cry out. "You...bastard...just fuck me to death...bastard...I'm going to die...heartless bastard...fuck your wife to death...aww...bastard..."
Thinking of his ex-wife's alluring figure in bed, Shang Rong felt a surge of lust, his penis throbbing painfully in his pants. He unbuckled his belt, pulling down his underwear along with it, his thick, long penis pressing directly against the woman's soft buttocks.
Zi Hui immediately felt her ex-husband's erection against her buttocks. She became confused again. Why is he so hard? Wasn't he impotent? For the past six months, his manhood hadn't been truly erect. How could…? As if suddenly realizing the danger, Zi Hui began to struggle, her buttocks involuntarily shifting left and right, trying to prevent that ugly thing from pointing at her vitals. The woman's desperate resistance greatly inconvenienced Shang Rong. Holding down her upper body with one hand was already difficult, and his other hand couldn't hold back her writhing, white buttocks. At that moment, Shang Rong seemed to understand something, clearly realizing what he was doing. Moreover, Zi Hui's voice was trembling with tears as she struggled. But the die was cast, and in that instant, the image of the woman writhing beneath another man flashed through his mind, and his lust and desire erupted uncontrollably. He slapped Zi Hui's snow-white buttocks hard, gritting his teeth as he said, "You bitch, who are you keeping your chastity for... for that man, huh... too bad I've already fucked you countless times... fucking you one more time won't count as losing your virginity, will it..."
Hearing Shang Rong's words, Zi Hui seemed to have been struck on a soft spot; her body went limp, and she lay motionless on the table, silent, her buttocks slumped against the edge as if dead. Shang Rong, without a second thought, thrust his hard penis in, finding the right spot. Because her vagina was dry, the pain from his penis made him involuntarily exhale. Shang Rong no longer needed to hold the woman's back; he held his ex-wife's round, plump buttocks with both hands, thrusting back and forth. A red mark from his slap stood out starkly against the surrounding snow-white skin. A pang of pain shot through Shang Rong's heart; he longed to hold the woman in his arms and cherish her. But he knew this woman no longer belonged to him; she belonged to that man. When that man wanted to have sex with her, she would obediently undress and reveal her deeply hidden, wanton side.
At this moment, Shang Rong's jealousy quickly banished any pity he had just felt. His movements became increasingly rough, and the frequency of his penis thrusting in and out increased. After a while, he felt that the woman's vagina had become moist, no longer as difficult to penetrate as before. "Hmph! I thought you were some virtuous and chaste woman, but you've already become wet with my fucking so quickly."
Zi Hui was hit where it hurt by Shang Rong's words. It turned out the man had guessed she was having an affair just by feeling, but until their divorce, neither of them had mentioned it, even deliberately avoiding this awkward topic. She never expected him to bring it up now. Zi Hui's heart was instantly filled with a jumble of emotions, a mixture of sweet, sour, bitter, and spicy. She was stunned, seemingly not even feeling the man's penetration. She felt her heart overwhelmed by a tide of resentment and regret. "So be it, so be it, let him be. Who told me to be so pathetic..." Although the woman's sobs had stopped, tears still streamed down her face as the man thrust into her violently.
Just then, Shang Rong suddenly felt the woman's vagina biting his penis like a small mouth. It wasn't obvious, but the feeling was familiar. What? Could she be having an orgasm? Encouraged, Shang Rong gripped her plump buttocks tightly with both hands and thrust even harder. He seemed to hear the woman's soft moans.
Zi Hui never moaned loudly in bed; her sounds were always faint, almost imperceptible, hesitant and restrained, yet always enough to ignite a man's intense desire.
"If it feels good, just moan. Don't hold it in. There's no one else here… When he's fucking you, do you moan…?"
Shang Rong said gleefully, enjoying the woman's increasingly wet and hot vagina.
Zi Hui braced herself on the table, struggling to sit up, turning back to stare at the man with tears streaming down her face, saying each word slowly, "Listen carefully… I… I…"
Because the man was thrusting so hard, Zi Hui couldn't speak. Her hands went limp, and her whole body fell onto the table, bursting into loud sobs, stammering, "You… you're not… human… you… bastard… ah… ah…"
Shang Rong could no longer hear Zi Hui's words; he had reached the crucial moment, intently staring at the woman's beautiful buttocks… The curve of his hand, Zi Hui's sobs, sounded like a woman's moans of pleasure to him. He freed one hand and slapped the woman's buttocks, shouting, "Scream...scream louder...does this feel good?...Didn't you complain that I...wasn't good enough?...Are you satisfied now?...Scream...ah...watch me shoot you to death..."
With the last few desperate thrusts, streams of semen shot into Zi Hui's plump vagina. Zi Hui moaned, whether from pain or pleasure, her body convulsing on the table for a while.
Shang Rong pulled up his pants without fastening his belt, plopped down on the sofa, panting heavily. Zi Hui, her bare white buttocks exposed, lay on the table, trembling with sobs.
The room was quiet, without a sound. After an unknown amount of time, Zi Hui seemed to wake from a coma, slowly pulling up her underwear and stockings, her body limp as if about to collapse. Looking at the woman's pitiful appearance, Shang Rong felt a pang of guilt, but he forced himself not to go and help her. Zi Hui didn't even glance at him. After getting dressed, she left without a word. Only after the door slammed shut did Shang Rong gradually calm down from his earlier frenzy. He
sat on the sofa, chain-smoking, not moving an inch until evening.
"I almost don't recognize you anymore,"
he thought, remembering Zi Hui's words. He went to the mirror, where a completely unfamiliar person appeared. He couldn't help but look back before he dared to confirm that the person in the mirror was indeed himself.
He hadn't expected to grow such a thick beard, paired with long hair, making him resemble one of those artists on television.
Was this his true self? Had he been disguising himself all along, only revealing himself today? So much so that even the woman he'd shared a bed with for seven or eight years didn't recognize him.
For a moment, Shang Rong lost himself again. He made all sorts of strange expressions and gestures in front of the mirror. After confirming it, he sadly admitted that the down-on-his-luck artist in the mirror was himself, or rather, he was the person in the mirror. As for who that person was, he suddenly couldn't remember. Anyway, he felt like he was some kind of rapist.
Shang Rong put on his clothes; he desperately needed fresh air.
Standing at the door, wondering where to go, his eyes fell on the small skylight leading to the roof. He moved a small ladder nearby and climbed to the roof. It was dark on the roof, but the cool autumn breeze felt refreshing.
Five stories didn't seem that high. Shang Rong glanced down a few times and hesitated. Jumping from this height wasn't necessarily fatal; what if he broke his legs but survived? He'd heard that people who had tried to die once but failed found it hard to decide to die a second time. Besides, that would be too cruel to himself.
Shang Rong had considered other methods, like getting two bottles of sleeping pills, cooking a pot of porridge, and drinking it—eating his fill and ending his life at the same time, killing two birds with one stone. But then he thought, dying in one's sleep lacks the experience of the process; dying in a daze wasn't his preferred way.
He still felt jumping was better; at least he could experience the feeling of flying through the air.
He had wanted to find a tall building, something over a hundred meters high, so that his time in the air would be greatly extended. But people are sentimental, and he only wanted to die at the entrance of the building where he had played as a child. Besides, even his ex-wife could hardly recognize him in this state, let alone the elderly women with failing eyesight.
The truth was that a man who looked like an artist had jumped to his death. For an artist, jumping off a building was merely the last creation of his artistic career; who would care? Even if people eventually learned the truth, by then his spirit would be far away, and what would they care about the deluge?
Shang Rong felt a deep sense of disappointment. Who could have imagined that the builders would cut corners and build a five-story building so low, completely unable to fulfill his desire to soar through the air? In extreme disappointment, Shang
Rong felt his legs go weak, and he simply lay down on the cold rooftop. Finally, he couldn't die.

Chapter 2 Unexpected Gain
The autumn night was exceptionally clear. A strong westerly wind blew away the clouds, revealing a star-studded sky. The stars, large and small, blinked incessantly, as if mocking a coward on Earth.
Shang Rong felt that the stars had seen through his deepest secrets.
"The building is too low? That's just an excuse for my fear of death," Shang Rong thought angrily. "Even these blinking, ghostly stars wish I were dead. I'm not going to die! Come and take my life if you dare!" "You, the brightest one, I recognize you! You're a member of Cassiopeia! What are you so arrogant about? You might have vanished millions of years ago. That light is just your ghost wandering the road.
" "You're right. Would you like to accompany me for a while?"
The voice was sharp, like a steel brush scratching at Shang Rong's heart. He was startled, sat up abruptly, and was then stunned by the scene before him.
Just three meters in front of him, a perfectly cylindrical beam of light floated about two meters above the building.
The beam was approximately 30 centimeters in diameter and about one meter high. The light wasn't intense; upon closer inspection, one could see some hazy substance moving inside, like a cloud of smoke churning inside a sealed glass container.
Shang Rong was surprised by the beam, but what truly troubled him was the voice. He scanned the entire rooftop, but there was no one there. Who had spoken? Where was that person hiding? What did they want? What was
this beam of light, resembling an advertising light tube?
"You're all alone here. You don't need to look anymore."
Only now did Shang Rong truly feel a chill run down his spine. The thought of running away flashed through his mind, but having just raped Zi Hui, his legs were too weak to stand.
A UFO! Aliens! Monsters! The voice didn't sound like a living person's.
"There's no UFO. I'm not human, and I'm not an alien."
Not human? Not an alien? Then what is that talking to me? Is it that beam of light?
"You're right, just think of it as the beam of light talking to you."
Shang Rong couldn't help but shudder as the steel brush brushed against him.
"How do you like this sound?"
A woman's voice, though cold and lifeless, was still much better than the steel brush.
Strange! How does that beam of light know what I'm thinking?
"I know everything you're thinking. Are you wondering why I can talk? Actually, I'm not talking, I'm just responding to your questions with the language I've collected."
So it's a robot. Where did it come from?
"You could say it's a robot, or a machine. You'll find out where it came from later."
A possessive feeling welled up inside Shang Rong. If he could take this thing home, it would definitely be worth a fortune, and his future might be even brighter.
"Although I'm a machine, I'm much more advanced than people on Earth. Don't even dream about it."
Luckily, he didn't act rashly; who knows what kind of killer move this machine might have.
"Feel free to ask any questions you have, and I'll tell you everything I can. We still have a long way to go together."
What kind of machine are you, anyway?
An energy collector.
Collecting energy from Earth?
You could say that, but the energy I'm talking about is different from what you think.
How is it different?
I can't tell you.
Damn, this machine is really intelligent.
Please be mindful of your language.
What do you use the energy you collect for?
For people, of course not for the people on Earth.
What kind of people created you?
I won't tell you.
Where do you usually hide?
From now on, I will be everywhere to you.
What do you want from me?
To cooperate; I'll meet your needs, and you'll provide the energy I need.
What kind of energy do I have?
Your soul.
A soul? A soul can be used as energy? Does a soul really exist?
Of course. Actually, you Earthlings have long been aware of the existence of the soul. It was initially proposed as a religious concept, and later some cultures incorporated it into the moral realm, but it couldn't be verified. So far, only philosophers have been paying attention to this issue, while your souls have simply dissipated like steam.
What exactly is a soul?
Simply put, the soul is a living organism capable of leaving the human body, yet possessing reason and free will. It constantly emanates from the human brain in the form of energy, though you Earthlings cannot currently prove its existence.
With hundreds of millions of people on Earth, passed down through generations, it seems like an inexhaustible energy treasure trove for you.
Theoretically, this is true, but it's not as optimistic as the numbers suggest. Differences in human bodies lead to differences in the quality of souls, and the quality of souls I'm referring to is not in the same category as your moral concepts. We are only interested in souls with a high concentration of living matter; of course, we have our own methods and standards for measurement. Furthermore, the souls of the elderly and children are useless. We must also exclude women, because women do not have souls, and we cannot explain why women, being human, do not have souls. Therefore, this energy reservoir is not as abundant as it appears.
Since human souls are scattered everywhere in the sky, you can collect them at will; why bother looking for me?
A soul in a free state is merely a free-floating, living substance, not energy. Only by highly condensing those free-floating, living souls can they become useful energy; of course, the method of condensation is extremely complex. In fact, a very small number of people on Earth have been seeking methods to condense souls. For example, some monks have attempted to condense their own dissipated souls through cultivation, and a very few have achieved some success, but the results are extremely poor. An Earthling who cultivates from age 10 until death at 100 will only accumulate about one percent of the soul they dissipated in their lifetime. Therefore, given the current state of development on Earth, it will take another hundred million years to master the process of soul processing.
You still haven't explained why you sought me out, or what use I am to you
in collecting souls. Meeting you was accidental, but deciding to cooperate with you was inevitable, because tonight, the soul you emitted was at its darkest, triggering my soul detection device, so you are someone we are interested in. You have no role in the soul collection process, only in the soul condensation process. According to Earth's timeline, we condense the collected souls twice a year, so you only work for us twice a year, at midnight on the spring and autumn equinoxes. In our program, people like you are called Soul Source Condensers.
Soul Source Condensers? It sounds like you're talking about something that's going to turn me into a machine—how terrifying!
It's not as terrible as you imagine. You won't change at all; you'll remain the same as before. It's just that by cooperating with us, you'll enjoy a life that ordinary people can't. Of course, you'll have to pay a price: two nights a year of suffering.
Suffering? What do you mean? How painful?
I won't hide it from you—it's extremely painful, worse than death. But the suffering won't last long, and the rewards are very tempting.
Can you tell me what your rewards are?
Of course, we'll have an agreement; this is how you Earthlings understand contracts. The only part of this contract that's negotiable is your request; everything else is non-negotiable. You can state your wishes, and of course, we understand Earthlings' desires very well. The requests made by the Soul Source Condensers are all very similar.
Soul Source Condensers? How many Earthlings have you signed such contracts with?
Not many—99 including you. And this number will remain stable for a considerable period unless one of the condensers perishes, at which point we'll look for a new one.
Being chosen by you among the masses, I guess I'm quite lucky. Tell me, how do you intend to satisfy the desires of... us?
The desires of Earthlings can be summarized in a few areas: endless mating between men and women; luxurious living; the desire to dominate others; an insatiable pursuit of wealth; and the desire to invent and create.
A few people may have some more unusual desires, but these are merely reactions to the previous categories; there's nothing new.
Can you satisfy all these desires?
In fact, we don't directly satisfy your desires. For example, if you like beautiful women, we won't directly give you one; if you like wealth, we won't directly give you mountains of gold and silver. We only provide the ability to fulfill those desires. Of course, this ability isn't unlimited; after all, we don't want to create an omnipotent god.
Explain the meaning of this ability specifically, and how do you provide it?
All schools on Earth cultivate this ability, but the process is far too time-consuming and ineffective. The abilities we provide generally fall into three categories. First, learning ability. Mastering this will allow you to quickly grasp the essence of anything you encounter. It also includes limited innovation. We can grant you innovation in areas that don't jeopardize our interests. Second, self-defense ability. We want the aggregators to work for us long enough, so self-defense will enable your body to withstand any attack. Of course, you cannot resist our punishments. Third, a healthy physique. This is determined by the nature of the aggregators' work. Of these three, learning and innovation are the most important for you, helping you achieve your dreams. The latter two simply ensure you can enjoy those dreams.
Once these aggregators possess abilities beyond the reach of ordinary people, while they won't jeopardize your interests, what if they wreak havoc on humanity?
That's not our concern. We have our own standards of good and evil, different from yours on Earth. Just as Earthlings don't concern themselves with the squabbles in an anthill.
Your soul-collecting work may have a long history. Many of history's most heinous tyrants and arrogant villains were probably cultivated by you.
Perhaps. We're not interested in the private lives of the Condensers.
You're interfering with the course of Earth's history.
That's an exaggeration. We have no intention of interfering with the evolutionary process of lower life forms. In fact, it's you humans who are interfering with the evolutionary process of life forms even lower than yourselves. For example, cloning technology is such a thing.
So, what if I don't agree to cooperate?
You have no choice. Unless you perish immediately.
Do you have the ability to destroy me?
Actually, you've been subconsciously thinking about this question. To tell you the truth, I'm just a machine, with no offensive capabilities except for self-defense. We have some Condensers that punish those who break the contract.
Using Earthlings to punish Earthlings?
That's right! Our punishments are of three kinds: first, a warning. Condensers who receive a warning will lose the abilities we provide and undergo a period of reflection. Second, physical punishment. Those who still don't repent after physical punishment will have their bodies destroyed. Has
anyone ever rebelled against you?
Yes. But no one has ever succeeded. A very few aggregators, after working for us for a long time, reached the pinnacle of their abilities, even ascending to the throne or becoming rulers of a nation. Their ambitions swelled, and they attempted to break their contracts. But they were all ultimately eliminated by us.
What makes you think that someone who has endured unbearable suffering would willingly experience it a second or even a third time?
Some people on Earth are addicted to cocaine. When their cravings kick in, they'll do anything you ask, as long as you promise to satisfy their addiction.
But once they've satisfied their craving, they'll regret it.
That doesn't matter. As long as their addiction is strong enough, as long as they constantly see the dangling bait, they will endure the pain again and again. After the bitter end comes the sweet reward.
I truly can't believe you're a machine.
Humans are machines too, just constructed from different materials and at different levels.
Although many details are unclear, I already know your intentions. Since I have no other choice, then produce your contract.
Our contract isn't like yours on Earth, existing in the form of paper and signatures. You can go back to sleep now. I will record the bioelectrical properties of your neurons in your dreams; that will be your signature. Everything will be completed in your dreams. I must remind you that from today onwards, you must return here on the spring and autumn equinoxes every year, otherwise you will be breaking the contract and will be severely punished. If you don't understand the spring and autumn equinoxes, I can explain the relevant astronomical knowledge to you now. Finally, please keep our secret; leaking secrets is also a breach of the contract.
So, do I have nothing to do before next year's spring equinox?
You can do your own thing, strive to achieve and enjoy everything you've earned. We're not in a hurry to put the new condenser into operation. Your current condition isn't suitable for operation either; you should arrange your own life first.
What about my learning ability? And the other abilities you promised? When and how will you impart them to me?
I'll say it again, you can go back to sleep now. It won't be long before you discover your mating ability with women is astonishingly powerful. This is a gift we've given to all the Condensers; after all, Earthlings really love mating. This gift is welcomed by all the Condensers, and I think you'll be no exception.
The light from the pillar gradually dimmed and was eventually swallowed by darkness. The rooftop returned to normal, as if nothing had ever happened.
That night, Shang Rong had a dream. He dreamt that his room was filled with blooming red roses.
************************************************************** Due to plot buildup, there are no sex scenes in this chapter. Please be patient, fellow horny readers; the longer you build up the tension, the more satisfying the ejaculation will be.
*************************************************************

Chapter 3 Drinking and Talking About Love
The autumn sun shone weakly and listlessly on Shang Rong. He hadn't been out in a long time. Walking among the bustling crowds, Shang Rong felt everyone's eyes were on him. Although he knew it was just his imagination, the thought of being a soul condenser made him extremely uncomfortable. It was as if he were an anomaly, completely out of place with everyone else.
He stood in front of a shop window, examining his own fleeting shadow. He felt no different from the people around him except for being more down-on-their-luck. He began to doubt the promise of the energy collector; he even suspected it was just one of many dreams he'd had.
Amazing learning ability. Shang Rong couldn't help but laugh at the thought. Three days had passed, and he hadn't discovered any special talent in learning. Just this morning, he had written a long string of numbers on paper, recited it over a dozen times, and still couldn't remember it. Now it was long forgotten. As for his powerful mating ability, he hadn't had a chance to test it. After raping Zi Hui that day, he felt guilty for a long time, but subconsciously, he also felt a little excited. After all, his manhood, which had been limp for half a year, was showing signs of becoming erect again, which gave him some courage to live. Shang Rong privately believed that the reason he didn't resolutely jump off the fifth floor that day was entirely due to raping his ex-wife.
The scene of that night was still vivid in his mind; he remembered every word the collector had said. Was he seeing a ghost? Shang Rong felt a wave of annoyance. To hell with the collector! Whether it was real or not, as long as he didn't have the courage to commit suicide, he had to find a way to make a living. If he continued to live like this, he wouldn't even be able to afford instant noodles. The most important thing right now was to find a job and keep his mouth shut.
The reality was harsh; no one in this world cared about his life or death anymore. Standing under an advertising billboard, Shang Rong thought sadly of his parents. Why did they die so young?
Why didn't they give him a brother or sister? A feeling of loneliness washed over him.
There was an ATM across the street, and Shang Rong thought he'd go withdraw his last bit of living expenses.
Suddenly, a piercing screech of brakes filled the air. Startled awake, Shang Rong leaped backward.
When he regained his senses, he was astonished to find that he had actually leaped backward from the middle of the road back onto the tree-lined path. Looking at the distance he had covered, he could hardly believe his eyes; he had leaped more than 6 meters in an instant. Self-defense ability! This was absolutely true! Just now, his mind had been completely distracted; there was no way he could have dodged that car, and with his abilities, it was impossible for him to leap that far. This must be the self-defense ability the data collector was talking about. Shang Rong felt a surge of inexplicable excitement. Ignoring the cursing driver and the astonished passersby, he scurried into a nearby alley.
Avoiding the countless astonished gazes behind him, Shang Rong's heart was still pounding, and he felt a fine layer of sweat on his back.
Thinking about what had just happened, he suddenly found it funny. Of all the abilities the data collector mentioned, self-defense was the first to be verified. But for him right now, the most important thing was the ability to make a living, the ability to earn money. If he continued to be so down on his luck, what was the point of self-defense? He might as well find a place to hang himself.
The initial excitement vanished instantly, replaced by a wave of helpless frustration. He even doubted whether his leap had been so miraculous; perhaps it was just ordinary, something anyone could do in a crisis, nothing more than a desperate act. Shang Rong sighed deeply and dragged his heavy legs home.
A month passed. Aside from shaving his head and beard, Shang Rong remained unchanged. He had almost forgotten that he was a condenser, treating that day as a daydream.
That day, Shang Rong was awakened by a series of urgent knocks on the door. Looking at his watch, it was already 11:00 AM. He lazily rolled over in bed, intending to continue sleeping. He heard the person knocking loudly calling his name in the hallway. Shang Rong listened carefully, a bitter smile appearing on his face.
Birds of a feather flock together! He recognized the voice as that of his childhood friend, Yang Jun, with his raspy voice.
Yang Jun was also a bachelor. A year ago, his wife ran off with someone else, taking the kids with her. Fortunately, he'd managed to keep a living doing odd jobs, so he wasn't having trouble eating.
"You're still alive, you bastard! I thought you were dead inside. I was just about to grab an axe and chop the door down!"
Yang Jun's booming voice made Shang Rong's ears ring.
"What are you doing here this morning instead of running your stall?"
Shang Rong asked irritably.
Yang Jun beckoned mysteriously to Shang Rong and said, "Put some clothes on first. I have some good news to discuss with you."
"What clothes? Old friends should be frank,"
Shang Rong joked, looking at Yang Jun's mysterious expression.
"You really want to stay home like this forever?"
"Aren't you a busybody? Tell me your good news. I haven't heard anything good in six months. Just a lot of upsetting stuff,"
Yang Jun leaned closer to Shang Rong and whispered, "There's a deal that can make you a million. Are you in?"
He stared intently at Shang Rong.
"That depends on how many years in jail,"
Shang Rong said, still with a nonchalant expression.
Yang Jun kicked Shang Rong and snapped, "I'm talking to you about serious business, can't you be a little more serious?"
Shang Rong found it ridiculous to hear someone discussing a million-dollar deal with him. If it weren't for his old friend, he would have thought the other person was making fun of him. But seeing Yang Jun's agitation, he smiled and said, "I'm all ears."
Yang Jun lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and said, "This matter sounds complicated, but it's not difficult to carry out. I have a Kazakh friend in the mountains whose son-in-law is a security official in Kyrgyzstan. They seized two hundred tons of sodium dichromate from a businessman from Northeast China at the border and sold it for two thousand yuan per ton. Do you know how much it costs per ton domestically?"
He stared at Shang Rong.
Shang Rong yawned and asked, "How much?"
"Thirteen thousand yuan per ton,"
Yang Jun said, almost through gritted teeth.
"Then what are you doing sitting here spouting nonsense? Hurry up and pick up the money."
Shang Rong was a little annoyed, wondering if his old friend had gone crazy for money.
Yang Jun swallowed hard, pointing at Shang Rong before finally speaking, "I knew you wouldn't believe me. Let me tell you, you can check the prices in China. My second uncle works at a leather factory in Shanghai, and they're offering it for 2,000 yuan cheaper per ton. They'll take as much as you want. As for Kyrgyzstan, I guarantee 2,000 yuan will do."
Then, in a mysterious tone, he added, "The underworld there has plenty of cheap goods."
"Why ask me for such a good deal? Can't you handle it yourself?"
"After all this talk, why don't you understand? This is a cash transaction. Don't you know my capabilities? I've scraped together 200,000 yuan, and you still have 200,000 yuan left."
Shang Rong smiled bitterly, "You've come to the right person. I'm almost out of money for food. Where am I going to get 200,000 yuan for you?"
Yang Jun exclaimed in surprise, "Really? Where's your money? Did you all pay for the 'youth friction fee'?"
Shang Rong shook his head. "All my money was wiped out by the stock market,"
Yang Jun said disappointedly. "I was hoping to feel secure doing this with you. Now it seems the profits are going to go to outsiders."
Shang Rong, seeing Yang Jun's sighing expression, said, "Don't worry about the money for now. Tell me the whole story again, including the names of the people involved."
Yang Jun seemed to see a glimmer of hope again, so he explained the whole situation in detail. The two talked until the sun was almost setting in the afternoon before stopping.
"Come on, let's go out for a drink, it's on me,"
Yang Jun said casually.
It was already 11 p.m., and in a Sichuan restaurant, Shang Rong and Yang Jun's drinking session was still going on. There was already an empty bottle on the table, and another bottle only had a little bit of wine left. Both of them had a strong sense of drunkenness in their eyes.
"Didn't you say your ex-wife had some money? You...you asked her for a loan...They say even a day as husband and wife is worth a hundred days of kindness..."
Yang Jun stammered.
Shang Rong chuckled bitterly, propping his head up. He thought to himself, "If you knew how I slept with her a month ago, you wouldn't say that." However, Yang Jun's words still stirred something within him.
"Tell me... how... your wife ran off with someone else..."
Shang Rong changed the subject.
Normally, he wouldn't have brought up this awkward topic for the sake of saving face, but today, fueled by alcohol, he didn't care. His goal was to see if Yang Jun's ex-wife and his own had any similarities.
Yang Jun exaggeratedly downed a glass of wine and said angrily, "Damn... that bastard slept with her so well... he got addicted... how could she not run away?"
"You know that man?"
"I know him! I know that bastard even if you skin him alive... actually, he used to be her sister's lover... he slept with both sisters..."
Hearing Yang Jun's words, Shang Rong felt that he was even more pathetic than Yang Jun. At least Yang Jun knew who slept with his wife, but he, for the sake of face, didn't even dare to mention it in front of Zi Hui. If he hadn't blurted it out in a fit of madness that day, he probably would never have asked Zi Hui about it in his entire life. Was he just a coward? Afraid of Zi Hui?
Or was he just hypocritically trying to maintain his male dignity? At this moment, Shang Rong's intoxicated heart clearly realized that there was only one reason: he still deeply loved that woman. If Zi Hui didn't divorce him, he might continue living with her with a humiliated heart until the knife of time erased all memories.
"I don't understand, you... can't you satisfy her up there?"
Shang Rong became interested in Yang Jun's ex-wife again. Discussing sex with a drunk man about his wife gave Shang Rong a sense of pleasure.
"Can't satisfy her?"
Yang Jun almost jumped up. "I fucked her to death... every time I fucked her until she was too weak to even go to the bathroom... sigh! What can you do when a woman is so shameless..."
Shang Rong looked at Yang Jun's indignant expression and thought that if he had been able to satisfy Zi Hui in bed during those six months, just like Yang Jun said... fucking her until she was too weak to go to the bathroom, he wondered if Zi Hui would still divorce him. Shang Rong knew that although Zi Hui had a cold and aloof appearance, she was actually quite lewd at heart, otherwise she wouldn't have been unable to hold back. But then he thought that his idea was ridiculous. Zi Hui was an absolute money-grubber, especially valuing money, sometimes to the point of greed. Therefore, the fundamental reason for Zi Hui's divorce was the stock market crash, not just his limp penis.
"That slut of mine, ever since the day I met her... she's never been well-behaved... I'm not afraid to tell you... she'd already slept with countless men before we got married... and she even pretended to be in pain... treating me like an idiot..."
Yang Jun took another sip and continued, "That bitch... she never took me seriously at all... every time a man came to our house... just look at how slutty he was... and her sister... even sluttier than her... why am I so unlucky..."
"If that's the case, why did you marry her in the first place..."
Shang Rong listened with great interest. He felt a sense of superiority again; Zi Hui had given him her complete virginity, which was better than Yang Jun's. The scene of their wedding night flashed before Shang Rong's eyes. He seemed to see Zi Hui covering her face again, her snow-white legs spread wide, showing him her pure treasure. He could almost hear Zi Hui's uncontrollable screams when she lost her virginity. He remembered how proud he felt when he saw his manhood stained with bright red virgin blood. He remembered holding the woman tightly in his arms, panting as he uttered a string of vows.
Yang Jun, with his eyes closed, seemed to be asking himself the same question. After a long while, he sighed and said, "Isn't it because I was bewitched by that vixen? Tell me... what does Luo Ya look like..."
Shang Rong thought carefully for a moment and said, "Very distinctive... quite attractive, especially those eyes..."
Hearing Shang Rong's words, Yang Jun felt a sense of smugness. He interrupted Shang Rong and shouted, "Damn it... you want to sleep with her too, don't you... tell me honestly... if Luo Ya seduced you... would you sleep with her or not..." Shang Rong
found Yang Jun's question difficult to answer. In his heart, he thought Luo Ya was indeed a beauty. If she really came to seduce him, it was hard to say whether he would sleep with her or not. Although he had been drinking, Shang Rong felt he couldn't speak his mind, so he chuckled, "I'd like to sleep with your sister-in-law... your wife... I have no such thoughts..."
Yang Jun laughed loudly, "You fucking pretend... I don't believe it... we all know each other well... to be honest... if I had the chance... I'd definitely sleep with Zi Hui..."
Yang Jun finished speaking and laughed again.
Hearing Yang Jun's words, Shang Rong was immediately enraged and was about to explode, but seeing Yang Jun's idiotic laughter, he forcibly held back. He thought, this bastard is drunk and speaks recklessly, just talking nonsense. Besides, Zi Hui has already been slept with by someone else, and he hasn't gone to challenge anyone, so what does Yang Jun's drunken talk mean?
Perhaps it was the effect of the alcohol, but the blurry image of the man pressing down on Zi Hui's snow-white body in Shang Rong's mind gradually became clearer, as if he had become Yang Jun. Shang Rong felt a strange excitement, and his penis began to stir. He wanted to discuss his wife with Yang Jun again.
"You said Luo Ya was slept with before she married you... Didn't you ever think about... getting revenge with her sister... What's her sister's name... Luo Na... I've seen her a few times... She's pretty... Didn't you say she's a slut... Why didn't you sleep with her...?"
Yang Jun chuckled coldly, "You think I didn't want to... But don't think she can get any blood out of her cunt, that bitch is even more ruthless than her sister... I heard she was deflowered at fourteen... And she's incredibly shrewish... She wouldn't let me get close... Didn't I tell you... Those two sluts don't even respect me... Humph! They look down on me... Wait until I'm rich one day... Humph..."
Shang Rong and Yang Jun's drinking session lasted until the owner deliberately yawned in front of them. Yang Jun was completely drunk, insisting on going to a brothel for sex, and Shang Rong had to drag him home.
Back home, Shang Rong sat there smoking one cigarette after another. He recalled Yang Jun's mention of borrowing money from Zi Hui, and pondered her reaction. A wave of guilt washed over him; he felt he couldn't bring himself to ask. Even if he did, it would be pointless, and he might even suffer humiliation. At the same time, he felt indignant. After the divorce, he had come out fully clothed, to show his manly demeanor, and hadn't bothered Zi Hui about the money she had. To put it bluntly, that money was what he had earned from his previous business dealings, which Zi Hui had simply kept as her secret stash. How
could a lowly bank clerk like her have saved that much? Now he was just asking her for a loan; she shouldn't refuse.
But how could he bring it up? He had only raped her a month ago. Although it couldn't compare to actual rape, he didn't know what Zi Hui was thinking.
A petty person is no gentleman, and a ruthless person is no man. What was the point of saving face now? Didn't she like money? He would use money to win her heart; he could even mortgage the house his parents left him. This was a rare opportunity to turn things around, an opportunity that would be fleeting, and he couldn't hesitate.
Shang Rong had made up his mind. Ignoring the late hour, he called a college classmate who worked at the border and talked for over half an hour. Then he started rummaging through drawers and cabinets, pulling out the property certificate his parents had left him.
Shang Rong stood in front of room 401, hesitating for a long time. What if he ran into that man? What would Zi Hui think of him? He hadn't expected to have to come back and beg this woman so soon after the divorce. Damn it, a real man has to be thick-skinned and ruthless. How could he accomplish anything with such hesitation?
"It's you!"
Zi Hui seemed surprised to see Shang Rong outside the door and instinctively took a step back.
"I...I came to apologize...that day...and also to talk to you about something. If it's inconvenient, we can talk outside."
Shang Rong felt his face burning and suddenly regretted coming here.
Zi Hui stared at her stammering, uncomfortable ex-husband, biting her lip and hesitating for a long time before saying, "What's inconvenient? Come in and talk."
Zi Hui even made Shang Rong a cup of tea. He was truly being treated like a guest. Thankfully, that man didn't seem to be there.
"This is my property certificate. I'll mortgage it to you. Lend me 200,000 yuan. I have a business deal that I urgently need. I'll pay you back in a month at most."
Shang Rong struggled to explain his purpose, and he was already slightly sweaty. Then he stared at his shoes, waiting for his ex-wife to refuse.
"Shang Rong, what kind of act are you putting on? We haven't even secured the 150,000 yuan yet, and now you want to borrow 200,000? Even banks don't offer such a good deal!" Shang
Rong was angry at the woman's words. I practically went out penniless when we divorced. In all these years, when have I ever argued with you about money? If I were even slightly shrewd, I wouldn't need to ask you for money now.
But while thinking this to herself, she said in a humble voice, "If this deal goes through, I'll pay you back your 150,000 too. It'll help me through this difficult time. I've never shortchanged you when I had money, right?"
Zi Hui seemed somewhat tempted. She bit her lip and pondered for a moment before saying, "I wouldn't dare question your stock trading skills, but you're alright at business. If you'd always been honest in business, you wouldn't be in this mess today. But let me be clear, you'd better keep your eyes wide open this time. If you lose money, I really will take your house."
Shang Rong felt a surge of secret joy. He really wanted to go up and hug his ex-wife and kiss her, but he didn't have the courage. He quickly stood up and said, "It's settled then. I've already written the agreement."
Shang Rong fled his ex-wife's house as if he were running away. Although his ex-wife hadn't lent him money out of past affection, he was still quite grateful, especially since Zi Hui didn't hold a grudge against him for his indecent behavior. Furthermore, his ex-wife believed that he, Shang Rong, was a useful person, not a good-for-nothing. Shang Rong felt he had never been so happy since the divorce, and his heart was filled with ambition. He secretly vowed to make something of himself and show this woman what he was made of.
Lost wealth could be recreated, and women who had been taken away by others could be won back. That's what made the world interesting.
Back home, Shang Rong couldn't wait to call Yang Jun. "The money's been secured. Go borrow Wang Pangzi's beat-up car tomorrow morning, and we'll hit the road this afternoon,"
Yang Jun excitedly agreed.
That night, Shang Rong climbed to the rooftop again, gazing at the brilliant night sky, and prayed fervently. "If this deal goes through, I'll trust you."
When Shang Rong saw the number on his card at an ATM in Pudong, Shanghai, he really wanted to hug Yang Jun and kiss him hard. One million! This money was like it fell from the sky, coming too easily. For over two years, he'd been losing tens of thousands of yuan at a time, and now, in less than a month, he'd made 800,000. He seemed unable to believe the reality before him until the ATM spat out a stack of banknotes, bringing him back to reality.
"So? Now you believe me? You have to treat my second uncle to dinner tonight. He helped a lot with this, at least he won't have to pay so quickly,"
Yang Jun said excitedly.
"Of course, of course. Consider this a favor I owe you,"
Shang Rong said sincerely.
"What do you mean by 'owing'? This is called profit sharing. To be honest, I didn't expect it to go so smoothly either. Your classmates at the border also helped a lot. Don't forget to repay the favor,"
Yang Jun instructed.
That evening, after a hearty meal with Yang Jun's second uncle, Shang Rong and Yang Jun went to the Bund. A light drizzle was falling, but the two didn't care. Standing by the river, letting the wind blow, they felt warm inside from the alcohol.
"Shang Rong, this is the first time in my life I've earned so much money. I feel like I've finally achieved something great today,"
Yang Jun exclaimed.
Shang Rong glanced at his friend, a pang of sadness rising in his heart, for his friend and for himself. "Yang Jun, this little bit of money is nothing in Shanghai. Not to mention others, even your second uncle wouldn't even look at it. We spent over three thousand on one meal, and those people still thought we were stingy." "
Damn it! When we're rich, we can eat thirty thousand on one meal!"
Shang Rong laughed. "You've gone mad, even wanting to mess with your grandmother!"
Yang Jun then playfully punched Shang Rong.
Looking at the rolling waves of the Huangpu River, Shang Rong sighed, "Eating 30,000 yuan in one meal won't earn you any respect. People will just call you a nouveau riche, a bumpkin. Only those who possess wealth and know how to use it wisely earn respect."
Yang Jun said impatiently, "Don't try to be polite, I don't understand."
Shang Rong said, "Then let me speak to you in plain terms. I've been thinking about this for days and want to hear your opinion."
Yang Jun threw his cigarette butt into the river and said urgently, "Stop beating around the bush, just tell me, tell me quickly."
Shang Rong, however, said calmly, "I want to start a company as soon as I get back, and I'd like you to join me. What are your thoughts?"
"Alright! You think I still want to be a street vendor? I knew you'd have ideas. Tell me, what kind of company do you want to start?"
Shang Rong laughed. "What's the rush? Let me explain. We won't start a company that does specific business. Our company will be an investment company; we can do all kinds of business. I met my college classmates at the border this time, and I had a lot of feelings about it. I have many classmates like that; they've all accumulated some power over the years, which will be our resources for doing business in the future. The longer it goes on, the more valuable these resources will become. Why don't we take advantage of it?"
Yang Jun nodded excitedly and said, "It should have been like this a long time ago. Who told you to be dragged into the stock market like a ghost..."
"I'm tired of hearing about this from my ex-wife. Stop with the nonsense."
Shang Rong glared at Yang Jun and continued, "We also need to bring in Fatty Wang. Your strength is your sharpness, Fatty Wang is his steadiness, and I'm good at everything. A company with the three of us can't possibly not make money. I've already thought of a name for the company. My ex-wife's name is Zi Hui, and your ex-wife's name is Luo Ya. The company will be called Hui Ya Investment Company. We'll have them wrapped around our little finger for life."
"Okay, I agree,"
Yang Jun clapped his hands. "I wonder if Fatty agrees,"
Shang Rong patted him on the shoulder and said, "I'll go persuade him, but he won't get a share of the company name, since he doesn't have an ex-wife."
The two burst into laughter, making passersby turn to look at them.
Shang Rong didn't care about that and still said loudly, "Let's practice in our hometown first, and we'll come back to practice in Shanghai soon."

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