**Zong Tingshu, 22, a good-for-nothing kicked out by his family.**
His father backed the wrong side, dragging the whole family down with him. On the night he was thrown out, all he had was a bank card his mother had secretly slipped him, with a balance of 20,000 yuan.
He spent all night writing quantitative trading code in his rented room. At four in the morning, as the backtest reached its fourth version, **the blue glow of the screen resonated with the bloodline talent dormant inside him.**
His dantian awakened.
From then on, the stock market was no longer just numbers rising and falling in his eyes. Red and green candlesticks became energy fluctuations he could feel, and the volume bars concealed the breath of capital.
He didn't need insider information. He didn't need big players to prop him up.
His dantian was the ultimate technical indicator.
**The bank teller laughed at him: “Twenty-three thousand is nowhere near enough”?** He silently sat down, precisely bought the bottom half an hour later, and was up five percent. Veteran investors chased after him, asking, “How could you tell that was the bottom without any indicators?”
**Hot-money traders crashed the market, leaving him down 20%?** He shut himself away for two days and learned to distinguish true qi from false. He shorted the market before the crash and made back 50,000 yuan in one trade.
His three-year goal: **turn 20,000 into ten billion, and advance from Qi Refining to Foundation Establishment.**
Even when no path lies ahead, I'll forge one myself.
