The next morning, Bowen sat in a sleek office overlooking the Huangpu River. Across the desk from him sat Zhang Yi, a seasoned investment advisor with a reputation for taking bold but calculated risks.
"Shorting the market during a crisis," Zhang Yi mused, his fingers steepled. "It's a high-stakes game. You're betting against giants, Mr. Fang. Are you sure you understand the risks?"
"I don't just understand them," Bowen said with quiet confidence. "I've planned for them. The trends, the data—it all points to a massive collapse. I need your expertise to ensure my moves are flawless."
Zhang Yi leaned back, studying him. "You're unusually prepared for someone so young. Most amateurs come in here with wild dreams and no sense of reality."
"I'm not most people," Bowen replied, his voice steady.
Over the next hour, they mapped out a strategy. Zhang Yi helped Bowen refine his portfolio, balancing his aggressive shorts with safer bets in gold ETFs and other stable assets.
Bowen didn't stop there. He consulted lawyers to ensure his investments were airtight and met with tax advisors to optimize his earnings. Every step was calculated, every move deliberate.
By mid-2008, the cracks began to show. A prominent investment firm declared bankruptcy, and the ripple effect started spreading through the financial sector. The markets wavered, then plummeted.
Bowen watched with a mix of nerves and exhilaration as his shorts began to pay off. Stocks he'd bet against nosedived, while the value of his gold ETFs soared.
He logged into his brokerage account daily, tracking his growing portfolio.
The once-bustling streets of the financial district carried a dark, oppressive mood. The bright neon signs flickered over weary faces, and the ever-present hum of life felt muted, almost lifeless. On street corners, small crowds huddled around store televisions, their tired eyes fixed on grim news reports.
"The markets continue to tumble as another major corporation files for bankruptcy," a reporter announced. The words were met with resigned sighs from the onlookers.
Fang Bowen moved quietly through the streets, his sharp eyes scanning the scene. People clutched briefcases with trembling hands, their faces pale with worry. The air carried a weight of despair, but Bowen felt something else entirely—a burning determination to rise above the chaos.
His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and answered.
"Mr. Fang," the voice of his publisher greeted him. "Just wanted to congratulate you again on the success of your book. Sales have surpassed 25,000 copies, and we're seeing steady growth."
"Thank you," Bowen replied. His tone was calm, but his mind was already racing ahead. He had much bigger plans than just his royalties.
As the weeks passed, the streets of Shanghai grew darker. Shops closed their shutters early, and layoffs became an everyday announcement. Bowen's own former company, Dongfang Textiles, teetered on the edge of collapse.
One evening, as Bowen walked through a quiet alley, he noticed a familiar figure. Zhang Lin, his former senior and office crush, was sitting on a bench outside a shuttered café, staring at her phone.
"Zhang Lin?" he called softly.
She looked up, surprised. "Bowen? What are you doing here?"
"I was just passing by," he said, taking a seat beside her. "How are you holding up?"
She sighed, her polished demeanor cracking for a moment. "Dongfang Textiles is done. They're declaring bankruptcy next week. I've been job hunting, but it's tough out there."
Bowen frowned. "You're one of the most capable people I know. If they couldn't keep you, then maybe it's for the best."
Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Still trying to cheer me up, huh? You've come a long way from the quiet guy in the corner cubicle."
"I'm starting my own company," Bowen said, his tone steady.
She raised an eyebrow. "Your own company? What kind of company are we talking about?"
"A holding company to manage my investments and future ventures. I want to build something big," he explained.
"And you want me to be part of this?" she asked, folding her arms. "Why me?"
"Because you're sharp, reliable, and resourceful. I want you as my secretary to oversee daily operations. You'll have full autonomy to manage things in my absence and relay my directives to the team," Bowen said. "I'll make it worth your while—triple your previous salary."
Zhang Lin leaned back, clearly skeptical. "That sounds almost too good to be true, Bowen. I trust you, but trust alone isn't enough for a decision like this. Show me something concrete—something rational."
Bowen nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. He pulled out his laptop, opened his brokerage account, and turned the screen toward her.
Her eyes widened as she read the numbers. "Fifty million?!"
"I've been playing the market," Bowen said calmly. "And I'm not done yet. By the time this year ends, I'm confident this number will double."
Zhang Lin blinked, then let out a low whistle. "If someone who made 50 million yuan from nothing in a year isn't a capable boss, then I don't know who is." She extended her hand, smiling. "All right, Bowen. You've got yourself a secretary."
He shook her hand firmly. "Welcome aboard, Zhang Lin."
With Zhang Lin by his side, Bowen set his plans into motion. They rented an office in a central location, hired a lean but talented team, and laid the groundwork for what would soon become an empire.
Bowen's investments continued to pay off spectacularly. By the start of 2009, his account balance had grown to an astounding 102 million yuan. His calculated risks had turned the crisis into a life-changing opportunity.
Standing in his new office, Bowen gazed out at the sprawling city. The same streets that had once seemed so daunting now felt full of possibilities.
As Zhang Lin entered the room with a stack of documents, she smirked. "You really weren't joking about being an invisible boss. I'm already running half the company."
Bowen chuckled. "I told you. You're capable, and I trust you. Besides, this is just the beginning."
The weight of the city's despair no longer loomed over him. Instead, it fueled his ambition. For Fang Bowen, this was the start of something far greater than he had ever dreamed.