The Fat Sheep Enters the Game
Lin Feng picked up a snow-white linen napkin and elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth, as if erasing the last trace of his dinner. Then, he gently placed the napkin on the table, folded it neatly, and put it back in its original place. The whole movement was slow and deliberate, carrying a strange sense of ritual.
He raised his eyes and calmly looked at Mike, who was now regaining his attention because of his actions.
"Mike," Lin Feng began, his voice calm and even, devoid of any emotion, "That's enough, no more."
Mike's heart skipped a beat, a chill instantly running down his spine. Was it over? He'd been rejected? This... how could it be? His performance had been so perfect! The bait had been so tempting!
But Lin Feng's next words made him fall from an ice cave into a boiling pot of oil in an instant!
"I know what you mean," Lin Feng continued, his tone as calm as if discussing whether it would rain tomorrow. "It's just an investment, isn't it?"
Mike's heart paused for a moment, then began to pound wildly and uncontrollably, making his eardrums ring. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but felt his throat was dry.
Lin Feng didn't wait for his response, nor did he look at the sudden, incredulous look in his eyes. He slowly raised his right hand, his arm outstretched, and then, under Mike's intense gaze, extended one index finger, placing it straight up above the table between them.
That finger was long and steady, and under the soft light, it seemed to carry a kind of destiny-determining power.
Mike's gaze was completely fixed on that finger. He blinked, his mind momentarily blanking between overwhelming surprise and lingering trepidation. He stared at the index finger, his throat bobbing, and tentatively asked in a voice tinged with both immense anticipation and a hint of uncertainty:
"One... one million? Lin, this... this project does have a high barrier to entry. One million might mean a limited share, but I can try to find a way..." He spoke quickly, trying to seize any opportunity.
Lin Feng shook his head, his index finger remaining perfectly still.
Not a million? Mike's breathing quickened, his blood rushed to his head, and his face flushed even more. He leaned forward involuntarily, his voice slightly trembling with excitement. "Ten... ten million?"
This was already the upper limit he had anticipated a "newly rich" of Lin Feng's caliber might invest! It even exceeded his expectations! If he could get ten million, he could immediately...
However, Lin Feng still shook his head. The expression on his face remained unchanged from beginning to end, calm to the point of being unsettling.
The flush on Mike's face faded slightly, only to return in an even deeper blush. He felt his hand holding the glass begin to tremble slightly, the liquid inside rippling gently. He stared at the index finger, still raised, as if mocking his limited imagination—a number he had only dared to glimpse in his wildest dreams—and it exploded in his mind like a thunderclap!
Could it be...? Could it be...?
His mouth gaped open, his pupils contracted in utter shock and ecstasy, his voice hoarse and trembling, filled with a dreamlike uncertainty and fear (the fear that this beautiful dream was an illusion), almost as if squeezed from the depths of his soul:
"Could it be... a hundred million US dollars?!"
He practically shouted the last word, though he lowered his voice, the shock and disbelief in it were impossible to conceal.
Lin Feng looked at him, at his face, which was distorted and flushed from extreme emotional shock, filled with "impossible" and "must be," and finally, slowly, nodded.
"Boom--!!!"
Mike felt his world, at that moment, utterly shattered by this massive bomb called "One Hundred Million Dollars," only to instantly reassemble into a glittering paradise flowing with honey and milk! One hundred million! Cash! Dollars! This far exceeded his wildest fantasies! It was enough to instantly elevate him to the ranks of true "successful con artists"—no, to the ranks of legends! This money would not only allow him to make this scam flawless and multiply its scale several times over, but it would also allow him to personally amass wealth into an astronomical figure he had never dared to dream of before! He could immediately flee to any corner of the world, living a life of royalty, never having to live in fear again!
Ecstasy, shock, greed, and a slight, instinctive sense of unreality and unease—as if struck by a huge windfall (the other party agreed too quickly, too readily, and for such a large sum)—overwhelmed him like a tidal wave. He felt his brain boiling, his blood burning, and his hands and feet numb with excitement.
"Lin! I... I really don't know what to say!!" Mike suddenly jumped up from his chair, the movement so loud that the chair scraped against the floor with a screeching sound. He was so excited that he didn't know what to do. He subconsciously wanted to go around the table to hug Lin Feng and give him a "brotherly" bear hug, but when he met Lin Feng's eyes, which were still calm and even had a slight sense of detachment, he stopped in his tracks.
He instead stretched out both hands and gripped Lin Feng's hand tightly, with all his might, the hand resting on the table (Lin Feng let him hold it, neither responding nor pulling away). "You're incredibly bold! You have such foresight! My God! One hundred million! Believe me, brother, this investment will be the wisest and greatest decision of your life, no, ten lifetimes! We will create history together! We will write a legend!"
He was rambling incoherently, his voice high-pitched with excitement, his face flushed red, and the veins on his neck bulging slightly. He repeatedly assured Lin Feng that he would immediately assemble the "top-notch" legal and financial team, prepare "watertight" documents, arrange "absolutely safe, secretive, and efficient" funding channels, and even invited Lin Feng to New York another day to visit the project's "core team" and "partners"...
Lin Feng finally and slowly withdrew his hand from Mike's hands, which were sweaty and trembling with excitement. He picked up a napkin, wiped his hands again, and remained calm.
"For the specifics, coordinate with K." Lin Feng's voice rang out, interrupting Mike's incessant chatter. His tone was calm, revealing neither the excitement nor nervousness one might expect after investing a hundred million US dollars. "I only care about the results."
He didn't even respond to Mike's subsequent solicitous offer to arrange a "unforgettable" "special celebration" for him (implying that several Hollywood A-list actresses and top models would be invited), but simply stood up and straightened his perfectly wrinkle-free lapel.
That's all for today, K. Let's go.
Mike was still immersed in immense joy and excitement, and not only did he not mind Lin Feng's almost "cold" "super-rich" demeanor, but he also felt it was more "fitting his status" and more "unfathomable." He hurriedly and attentively escorted Lin Feng and his party to the villa door, his face full of an unprecedented, almost fawning smile, repeatedly saying "keep in touch," "move things forward immediately," and "looking forward to meeting again."
Even after Lin Feng's convoy of lights disappeared at the end of the Medina, Mike was still standing at the villa entrance, staring in the direction the car had vanished. His chest heaved with excitement, and his face wore an almost manic smile, barely contained. He suddenly clenched his fist, letting out a silent roar into the night sky, then turned and rushed back into the villa. He didn't even bother to acknowledge the butler who came to greet him, and went straight into the study. He needed to start planning immediately how to devour the biggest and most lucrative piece of this hundred million dollars, and... how to weave an even more perfect and alluring dream to "digest" this windfall.
Inside the Bentley, in the darkness of night, the atmosphere was completely different from the ecstatic fervor on Mike's side; it was cold and quiet.