Zhao Ritian still did not understand. "What do you mean, keep making money? If you don't pay it back, you can make over ten billion in one go! Isn't that enough?"
Lu Chengwen laughed. "What the hell is ten billion?"
Lu Chengwen said, "First of all, this ten billion belongs to the various ancient martial arts sects. You all saw it too—they only have this much money. If we take all their wealth, they'll fight you to the death! With so many Ancient Martial Artists fighting us to the death, do you think you'll be able to spend that money in peace?"
"Didn't you already scare them into submission with that one hundred million per head method?"
Lu Chengwen said, "That kind of thing can only hold them down for a little while. They may not dare make a move today, but the hatred is still there. I'm not stupid enough to make the entire martial world hate me."
"Second, I'm interested in more than just the money they've lost to us. I'm also interested in the money they haven't taken out yet. If we can earn their trust, they'll hand even more money over to us. That money is wasted sitting in their hands—it can't generate any returns. Just looking at it makes me drool!"
"Then, if this fund runs well, other sects will come looking for us in the future and join us. How much money would that be? This is only Youzhou. If the entire Northern Country learned about our fund... hehehe, how much money would that be? We could keep expanding the pie!"
"What if we had our foundation in Nanguo too? Xiliang, Bashu, the Central Plains... wow, how much money would that be?"
"So! We don't need to stuff ourselves to death in one meal—we