The two barbecue chefs were still in a daze when they left. Zhang Hao had eaten all the meat they'd brought. He'd gone to the bathroom three times, but he'd still polished off more than two hundred pounds of all kinds of meat! Over two hundred pounds! Altogether, it weighed more than Zhang Hao himself. How was that even possible?
Back in his room, Zhang Hao asked, "Master, why don't I feel stuffed?"
Of course not. You eat, then you shit. How could you feel stuffed?
Zhang Hao rolled his eyes. He knew this had to be Mifeng's doing. Thinking about how much he'd eaten that day, he couldn't help worrying. What would he do if he had to eat like that every day?
As if it knew what Zhang Hao was thinking, Mifeng said,
Don't worry. You'll only eat like this once. You won't be able to do it again in the future.
Zhang Hao rubbed his jaw. His chewing muscles were sore. "About how much will I eat?" He felt uneasy. Even one-tenth of that amount would be a huge undertaking. People would definitely call him a glutton—a super glutton. And if he drank that much, too, he'd have a terrible image.
But after that meal, Zhang Hao found that his strength and agility had both improved tremendously. Most importantly, he truly felt full of energy. His eyes especially seemed brighter. When he looked in the mirror, he saw they were so striking that no one could forget them. Even he could tell they looked completely different from before.
According to Mifeng's design, Zhang Hao's body changed day by day. His whole bearing and energy were completely different from before. His old, languid manner had vanished. Now he looked more like a soldier, even though he'd never served a day in the military.
It had only been a little over two months. He'd spent most of that time exercising, then reading all sorts of books. Mifeng stressed that he had to think as he read, so aside from working out and reading, Zhang Hao often sat alone in thought. Gradually, he acquired a scholarly air and a touch of refinement. Together with his muscular build, it gave him a remarkably distinctive presence.
Before he knew it, winter had arrived.
A heavy snowfall had lasted an entire day and night.
Zhang Hao now needed only four hours of sleep, and the quality of his sleep was exceptionally good. He went to bed at midnight and got up at four in the morning. Without eating, he went down to the basement and exercised for an hour on the sixteenth underground floor. Then he returned to an empty room for strange movement drills, most of which involved stretching. He only finished once he'd fully extended his body.
Breakfast was a pot of stewed beef. It had been cooked the night before and left for the next morning.
The amount wasn't too great: ten pounds of beef shank, which shrank quite a bit during cooking. He finished it in one meal, replenishing what he'd used up.
He spent most of the morning talking with Mifeng, which had become one of Zhang Hao's favorite pastimes. Mifeng also updated him on the company's progress during that time, but Zhang Hao had basically stopped paying attention to the business. He wasn't interested at all. He'd rather spend that time reading or painting an oil painting.
He didn't eat at noon. After half an hour of exercises, the afternoon was his free time. Zhang Hao no longer checked his stock account, either. Mifeng had already told him that it had left over ten billion in the account for him to spend, and transferred the rest elsewhere. The reason was that someone as weak as Zhang Hao wouldn't be able to handle having hundreds of billions—or even a trillion—under his name. Ten billion was still a lot, but his small frame could bear it. After all, a very small number of people really did make a fortune in stocks and futures.
That alone satisfied Zhang Hao. He even thought ten billion was too much; a few billion would be enough. If he really needed to spend a lot, he could just ask Mifeng. Having that much money in his account made it hard to sleep peacefully. He was sure the relevant authorities at the bank would put him on a list.
According to Mifeng, the money earned so far had already exceeded a hundred billion. Converted into the local currency, it was even more staggering.
Under the division Zhang Hao and Mifeng had agreed on, Zhang Hao owned thirty percent of the money. Thinking back to when he'd argued with Mifeng over the split, whether it had been one-to-nine or two-to-eight, he would've made a killing either way. "Ignorance is bliss" described the Zhang Hao of that time perfectly. He'd actually argued for a three-to-seven split. He'd made out like a bandit.
Watching the heavy snow outside, Zhang Hao asked, "Master, what should I do next?"
Wait eleven more days!
Zhang Hao was extremely curious. "Eleven days? What am I supposed to do after eleven days?"
Don't ask. You wouldn't understand even if I told you!
Damn it, Mifeng never would just talk properly. Whenever Zhang Hao asked about anything important, Mifeng would say, "You wouldn't understand even if I told you." It was seriously exasperating.
"Forget it. I won't ask. I'll go read! Oh, and stop blocking my calls and WeChat. I can't get any messages. What if something happens?"
Mifeng had blocked Zhang Hao's access to information because it wanted to get his body into peak condition, so it tried to keep outside distractions to a minimum. Zhang Hao understood that. He hadn't cared much about other people to begin with, so he hadn't really resisted. He was only bringing it up now to complain.
During his afternoon reading time, Zhang Hao held an English encyclopedia in his hands.
At around four in the afternoon, a call came in.
"Who is this?"
"Haha, General Manager Zhang, it's me, Peng Dahai!"
A fat man flashed through Zhang Hao's mind. Remembering the fellow he'd gotten drunk last time, Zhang Hao couldn't help smiling. "General Manager Peng! Hello, hello. It's been a while."
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Peng Dahai got straight to the point. "General Manager Zhang, are you free tonight? Let's go out for a drink!"
Zhang Hao was surprised. "A drink? Are you sure, General Manager Peng?" He couldn't understand it at all. Had the guy still not sobered up from last time? Zhang Hao had drunk ten bottles of Moutai liquor. He had to be joking. How could Peng Dahai still dare to drink with him?
"Hehe, here's the thing. I have a friend who likes drinking, too. When he heard how much you could drink, he got really excited and wanted to take you on. It's not easy to find a drinking buddy!"
Actually, Zhang Hao had barely touched alcohol in the months since their last drinking session. He'd never been much of a drinker; when he ate, it simply never occurred to him to grab a bottle. But Peng Dahai's invitation reminded him that he needed to replenish the Nano-machine's energy.
"Sure, General Manager Peng. See you tonight. Send the address to my phone."
"Haha, great, great! General Manager Zhang, you're a man of your word!"
Peng Dahai was very pleased and immediately sent over the hotel address.
That evening, Cheng Yuan drove Zhang Hao to the hotel.
When Zhang Hao went upstairs and entered the private room, he froze. Surprised, he said, "Gangzi, what are you doing here?"
Hu Gang was dumbfounded, too. He'd gone to a lot of trouble to get in touch with Peng Dahai because he wanted to land the promotional campaign for Peng Dahai's real estate company. A single campaign was worth at least three hundred thousand. He'd treated Peng Dahai to drinks three times, and because he could hold his liquor particularly well, Peng Dahai had taken a liking to him. The campaign hadn't been given to him yet. Peng Dahai had said that if Hu Gang could drink one of his buddies under the table, he'd hand the promotional campaign over to him!
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