Zhang Yang's Big Data

Just as a lion king patrolled his territory every day and urinated to declare his sovereignty,

whenever he had the time and the conditions allowed, Zhang Yang would also inspect his assets and dig a small entertainment pit wherever he happened to be, proving that he was still alive.

To be honest, Zhang Yang felt that he lived a very humble life, always trembling with fear, as weak as a harmless newbie anyone could bully.

He would never forget those years when he had been ravaged, tormented, and schemed against by wave after wave of shareholders.

Once upon a time, he had been such a pure, sunny—and, most importantly, handsome—young man. Apart from iced watermelon, he had practically no hobbies. Yet now... sigh, his weight was visibly shooting upward.

"So, I'm definitely not the pig's foot. It's impossible for a fat person to be the pig's foot."

Under the sunlight, Zhang Yang rubbed his completely bald head, then pinched his balloon-like belly. Every step he took made the earth tremble. A casual exhalation from him was an eighteenth-level gale, and a single glance unleashed a million thunderbolts—but this really wasn't his fault.

After all, what kind of existence were 1.2 million Blunted True Spirit Particles? Even if a body could bear only one-third of them, that was still enough to crush a naturally graceful, strikingly handsome, number-one beauty under heaven into Pig Jiuneng.

"To my departed youth!"

With one hand gripping a wine vat, Zhang Yang drained the priceless True Spirit Immortal Wine within. He wasn't drowning his sorrows in alcohol; he was simply a little thirsty.

After all, inspecting such a huge fortune took quite a bit of effort. Come to think of it, had he only inspected one-tenth of it—or one-hundredth?

He split off a strand of thought