"Who says you can't make a comeback? You're at your most cash-strapped right now. Why not put this money in? What if you turn things around?"
Even knowing that Zhang's Fund was a massive trap, Mo Qiong still chose not to withdraw his investment and continued supporting him.
Zhang He was deeply moved. Ten million wasn't much and could not possibly determine the outcome of this capital game, but hearing Mo Qiong say that still warmed his heart.
After all, in these difficult times, all his friends had withdrawn their investments. What mattered was not how much the money was, but how significant that sum was to the investor.
Naturally, he knew nothing about Mo Qiong's true circumstances. At that moment, he felt that Mo Qiong had staked his entire fortune on believing Zhang He could turn things around.
"Why bother? Forget your ten million—even if you gave me a billion, it wouldn't help." Zhang He sighed.
"Why?" Mo Qiong asked.
"We can't make the fund profitable in the short term. Without a sufficiently high rate of return, there's no way to win back the investors' confidence. But making money is easier said than done. If we had tens of billions, my team could still fight for it, but with the terrible hand we're holding now, even if we had a billion, we could guarantee at most a three percent return. Yet our promises to the investors were much higher than that." Zhang He sighed.
Money wasn't the fund's biggest problem right now. As long as they made a few brilliant investments and restored people's confidence in the fund, the money would naturally come rolling in.
Countless people would invest their money with them and let them use it to earn even more. That would be far more effective than