Reaching the age of thirty, my income randomly doubled-Chapter 766 - 574: A Grand Display of Power
Chapter 766: Chapter 574: A Grand Display of Power
The night wind was slightly cool.
The observation pier by the Huangpu River was absolutely packed with people.
By the time Chen Pingsheng and Song Yanxi finally made it onboard, the deck ahead was already crowded with people.
These young men and women were expressing their love for the Magic City, narrating how they intended to achieve their ambitions in the future.
A few were brimming with confidence, standing in front of their girlfriends and saying, “Trust me. Give me three years, and I’ll definitely be able to buy a house outright in the Magic City.”
They hadn’t even graduated yet, not to mention they were merely third-year or fourth-year college students.
In truth, they wouldn’t need three years; all they needed was to go home and ask their parents for money. But if their parents were unable to afford it…
Forget three years—the odds are that working people would never be able to buy a house in this city for the rest of their lives.
Under the night sky, the Magic City was indeed beautiful. Song Yanxi’s black stockings were flapping in the breeze.
While she was still much younger than Chen Pingsheng, she had turned thirty this year.
When a woman reaches thirty, no matter how well she maintains herself, she cannot be called a “young girl” anymore.
As for Chen Pingsheng himself, he was only a few years away from forty.
“Honey, do you think we ever imagined this ten years ago?”
“Definitely not!”
“Right, not only you—I wouldn’t have dared to imagine that all this could be real. Now, even An’an is in middle school, and the two of us are about to step into the middle years of life. It feels like some regrets remain unfulfilled, yet looking back, it all seems like the best arrangement.”
Women are often sentimental, especially in moments like this under the night sky.
Chen Pingsheng didn’t quite understand what she meant for the moment. “Honey, come on, let’s not talk about regrets; it doesn’t feel appropriate.”
“You’re right, it’s not really appropriate.”
“You guys, quick look—what’s that?”
Suddenly, countless young women on the boat cried out in surprise, making Chen Pingsheng and Song Yanxi think something serious had happened. Turns out, it was the light show on the tall buildings ahead.
“Wen Cheng Wu De, eternal legacy, unifying the Jianghu—congratulations on the triumphant celebration of the Three Big Bosses’ five-and-a-half-year-old birthday.”
Is this even a thing?
Damn, now we’re the ones dragged into the gossip.
Not just the skyscrapers at The Bund displaying the names of the Three Big Bosses—even the sky was filled with thousands of drones performing a light show.
After some formation changes, they first revealed Er Congming’s social media handle.
Then, they displayed Er Piya’s profile picture.
Song Yanxi looked awkwardly at those displays and listened to others discussing them, feeling as if this extravagance had nothing to do with her.
Er Piya was truly over the top—celebrating a fifth birthday was enough, but she even went for a five-and-a-half-year-old birthday.
Could anything be more absurd?
She has truly taken indulgence and extravagance to its extreme. Word was, after her sister gave away two houses with an ice cream truck, she refused to be outdone.
She made her stance clear with an impossibly grand gesture to the young people at The Bund:
Second Princess either does nothing, or goes completely overboard.
The sky lit up with Er Piya’s live-streaming account, not showcasing her personally but focusing on The Bund light show.
All acts of flaunting wealth by influencers paled in comparison to hers.
She knows how to craft her image.
A large event poster boldly announced that ten lucky fans would randomly be drawn to receive a Bentley Continental worth 3.5 million each.
The cars were parked right there, ready to be driven home immediately.
Additionally, three supreme lucky fans would get to choose a small flat at The Bund.
Location and price were unlimited, with the exception of property ownership.
The winners would enjoy a seventy-year residency right to the flat.
This one promotional event caused her live-stream viewers to spike to over a million. Truth be told, Er Piya was remarkably successful at managing her account.
This success wasn’t just about influence; it was also about her unparalleled monetization capability.
Er Piya burned through money like crazy, but relying solely on her account with more than forty million followers, her monetization ability was equally absurd.
Whenever she wanted, she could easily net three to four hundred million annually from her account.
Others couldn’t match her because they had too many fake followers; hers were all real, and besides, she boasted the highest number of affluent followers across all platforms.
Even a foreign luxury children’s brand once offered her 30 million for a single soft-ad endorsement.
All she had to do was mention the brand in one of her videos.
Most influencers are dismissed as lowbrow by the masses, but Er Piya clearly didn’t fall into that category.
A significant portion of her fans were wealthy.
No one would dare call her lowbrow.
This era has created too many unique opportunities—when even a young girl like her can earn four to five hundred million annually from a short-video account…
It would be a lie to say ordinary people weren’t envious.
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The people aboard the sightseeing boat rushed into her live-stream at once. These giveaways felt like a lucky draw—the odds of winning might be slim, but could it be worse than lottery odds?
All the prize mechanisms were transparent, openly conducted by staff from three major companies.
Er Piya orchestrated this massive event without even showing her face.
The stream was flooded with virtual gifts, almost exclusively carnival gifts, sent in batches of ten.
The purpose was to become the number-one supporter in her live-stream.
The event began, and suddenly a scream erupted from the crowd—a girl, the one who had greeted Song Yanxi earlier.
She’d won a Bentley.
Once ashore, she could go to the three major companies to claim her prize.
There was no possibility of fraud; Er Piya didn’t stoop to fakery.
Winning a Bentley was naturally cause for celebration, while others focused on their live-stream apps and the extravagant light show ahead.
The little influencer was excellent at self-promotion.
Perhaps next year, Er Piya wouldn’t need family support anymore.
Relying solely on herself, she could live an extraordinarily affluent life.
She didn’t need to save; spending four to five hundred million annually, about 1.5 million daily, was unimaginable for someone her age.
Chen Pingsheng himself found it astonishing—Er Piya had been indulging from birth all the way to now, and her living standards empowered her exceptional ability to earn money online.
It allowed her to dominate the short-video field, with no real competitors.
If she kept at it next year, her followers might surpass a billion.
He figured they should just let her find her own way to earn money moving forward.
For her, it wasn’t even difficult; if she couldn’t sell bananas at a dollar a pair, she could surely sell apples at two thousand apiece.
Yadea electric cars weren’t her style; figuring out how to modify a Rolls-Royce Phantom to make it “fancier” was her domain.
She understood these things better than the repair shop staff.
The ability to spend freely often goes hand-in-hand with the ability to earn—it’s just the way the era works.
Others might fight tooth and nail to become influencers, but it couldn’t compare to people like her simply posting a video of her meal.
This unease brought on by class disparity—the intrigue it generates—is undeniable.
Er Piya epitomized the opulence of Ten Li Foreign Market, exposing too many people to a world of beauty they were never meant to see.
In this world, there’s no concept of competition.
No standard work hours either—there’s only standing atop a rooftop, gazing at thousands of lights, drinking alone by the glass.
The wine could never be less than a hundred thousand per bottle, and even a simple glass was priced at thirty to fifty thousand.
And the rooftop they stood on would only be measured in billions.
This is the Truman World that ordinary people had never glimpsed—it left Chen An’an feeling out of place here.
These elites were worlds apart from common life, and people like Er Piya showed no compassion for ordinary folks.
Chen Pingsheng was always exasperated by this reality.
Song Yanxi wasn’t exactly exasperated; she simply didn’t agree with it.
They had both come from ordinary lives, experiencing hardship, struggle, sacrifices, and mundane concerns before reaching this stage.
Yet their daughter had grown distant from all of it.
