"I stopped loving you a year ago."
When her first love of seven years said this in the car, Chen Kemeng didn't cry.
She simply deleted him from WeChat and opened her stock account.
Balance: 58,621.37 yuan.
By day, she was a math teacher at an elementary school in a small town, her sleeves covered in chalk dust.
By night, she was a mysterious trader in investment circles known by the code name "Nightingale."
She went from 58,000 yuan to one million in eleven months. No golden finger, just late-night financial reports, the pain of cutting her losses, and the self everyone mocked for being "too soft-hearted."
At a charity auction, she outbid her ex for an antique necklace worth 860,000 yuan, then turned and walked away.
Down below, the heir to a hundred-billion-yuan financial empire, Zhan Yang, took an interest in a woman for the first time.
He traded a six-hour drive for a bowl of spicy hot pot, offered twenty billion yuan in shares as a betrothal gift, and told her with a ring engraved "For my only risk":
"You are the only risk for which I'm willing to abandon risk management."
She smiled and said, "The first rule of my risk management: never hold a junk stock."
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