Rebirth: Super Banking System Chapter 2399 - 2239: Awe

On that particular day.

As evening fell.

Tang Qing headed out toward Shanghai, cutting his time short in Beijing to dodge the flood of invites that could disrupt his relaxed routine.

Just one year.

Barely more than three hundred and sixty days.

Whenever possible to lounge.

Lounge he would.

Truth be told, Tang Qing's thoughts were still wrapped in the fresh vibes of the New Year, even though July loomed close. Hang in there a little more, and the year would wrap up before long.

What a drag!

Without that boosted lifespan, Tang Qing might be ticking off the days to his twilight years. Time truly packs a terrifying punch.

For the simple reason.

That it sweeps everyone into oblivion.

...

"Alas!"

Word spread of Tang Qing's exit.

In Beijing.

Across numerous spots.

A chorus of soft sighs echoed, tinged with mild letdown. Tang Qing had courteously turned down their overtures, leaving a trace of irritation in the air.

Yet.

Learning that Tang Qing had brushed off every single one.

In a flash.

The frustration melted away.

Their real worry.

Had been him accepting from one group while snubbing the rest, which would've sparked awkwardness all around. But turning down all equally leveled the playing field.

Sly operator!

Spot on.

Tang Qing wasn't one to play the fool.

Staying impartial.

Remained Tang Qing's steadfast rule, even with trade ties to clans like the Chai Family and Zheng Family; he steered wide of any political entanglements.

Sticking purely to commerce.

Through this approach.

The Tang Family sidestepped heaps of headaches.

...

Aboard the flight.

Vast and quiet.

Right now.

Tang Qing had touched down in South Africa, right in the heart of the enormous Royal Banfoken Stadium, surrounded by throngs of people, waving banners, and crowds of tens of thousands streaming inside.

Buzzing with energy.

Unseen by all, next to the control area, inside the stadium overseer's office, a new face from Huaxia had slipped in. The overseer had stepped out moments ago, securing the lock behind him.

Clearly.

This was one of Tang Qing's underlings.

Naturally.

No combat expert, just a contact greased by 'Golden Power'. Once he departed, Tang Qing materialized, and the room's cameras just happened to glitch out.

From this spot.

It offered the prime vantage over the whole arena.

-Prime position.

-Elevated.

-Clear single window.

Today's clash.

Argentina facing off against Greece.

Yet another defeat.

For Greece, bidding farewell to the World Cup, Tang Qing showed up purely for the thrill, unable to fully dive into the electric vibe.

"Tweet!"

The referee's whistle pierced the air.

Play kicked off.

From then on.

Thanks to the sharp orchestration from the operatives, Argentina netted three times before halftime, netting the team close to four hundred million bucks from this alone.

After the break.

Ending three-one.

That scoreline raked in billions extra, tallying the full game's haul pushed it to several billion dollars more, excluding any 'direct transmission' cuts.

Single game.

Haul exceeding one billion dollars.

Impressive?

Hardly.

In fact, it ranks low; not limited to Europe, across the world in this tournament, the Pixiu Plan's grand earnings stem mostly from such shakedowns.

After all.

Wagering on football carries a shady rep, so operatives target mostly legit European outlets, while illegal betting rings pop up everywhere worldwide.

Along with similar gambling spots.

Of course.

They fall under the 'shakedown' targets too.

Bottom line.

This racket.

Carries a half-legit vibe, hitting at 'illegal' football bets—anyone profiting off it ought to brace for getting profited from themselves.

...

Six-one victory.

Argentina crushed Greece.

In an instant.

Worldwide.

Plenty were hurling objects in rage; this result was an absolute shocker, and shocks like these come with sky-high odds from the start.

On paper.

Solid outcome.

Typically.

Official bookies tweak odds to match the wagers, so they never bleed cash, but the shady ones love to roll the dice.

Hence.

Disaster struck.

Losses?

Nope.

Just slimmer margins, missing out on a fat chunk of the pie—who wouldn't gripe? At least no outright wipeout; just tally up the World Cup gains so far.

It'd make hearts skip.

Blast it.

All this hustle for what? Hunger's off the table, but so's getting full; against projected hauls, it's barely half—what's up with this planet?

Suppose.

They stiff on payouts?

Hmm.

Tempting thought, but hold off; save it for the finale, scoop the cash and bolt—the endgame's bound to pay big.

Hmph!

This globe pushed me to it.

...

Back in Shanghai.

Stepping off the plane.

Tang Qing, amid the unfolding schemes, caught wind of some plotting this scam, and let out a quiet laugh. Flee if you must; come finals, it'll all get wired over anyway.

So what.

Chasing it back?

Nah.

Why bother reclaiming? This ain't your standard con; own the result, just like operatives worldwide shearing casinos' profits—hand it back to the punters?

No sense in that.

Fine by me.

Taken for a ride once, folks wise up, and it scares off shady joints, ramps up caution—a world without gambling? That's Tang Qing's dream.

Regrettably.

Human greed.

Naturally craves the thrill of uncertain windfalls.

...

Not long after.

Arriving home.

Uncle and aunt greeted him eagerly. Though the hour was late, their energy soared; these days, their nightly rest had shrunk more and more.

Mere three hours under the covers, yet buzzing with vigor through the day—everyone had spotted this odd shift ages ago, after all, it used to be six or seven hours, steadily dropping.

Feared some medical glitch.

After asking around.

Discovered it tied to their diet.

About that.

They could only marvel: incredible! They followed Tang Qing's advice, zipping their lips tight, no leaks to the world, and stuck to routine exams at their private clinic.

Last year.

The Tang Family launched a discreet hospital in Qingyan City, modest in size, whispered about by only a handful, since cash flowed freely, no need for promotions.

It spread quietly in Qingyan City's elite circles.

And that.

Yielded real perks; Qin Yugang sensed the changes more vividly, convinced that if word got out, it'd become a hot commodity.

For grown-ups.

For kids.

For seniors.

Be it mental sharpness or bodily health, everything got a boost. Particularly for ladies, the upgrades shone bright; over these years, with little fuss.

Still.

His spouse's complexion smoothed out, lines faded away, like she'd rewound to her late twenties; his folks, who were also Tang Qing's grandparents on his mom's side.

Gray locks shifting to dark.

Climbing stairs.

Descending steps.

No flushed cheeks, no panting, no pills needed—the host of age-related woes simply vanished; outsiders figured they'd beaten them back.

It raised no fuss.

...

Past midnight.

Up on the roof.

Tang Qing and Qin Yugang gazed at the moon; Qin Yugang, swayed by Tang Qing, picked up a hobby for sky-watching after one offhand remark from Tang Qing.

Back then.

He'd wondered, "Why bother staring at the stars?"

Tang Qing answered, "To grasp how tiny we are, to hold onto reverence, avoid getting cocky."

Those words.

To average people, could sound showy, but coming from Tang Qing, Qin Yugang felt it click—that when you've amassed enough clout.

Wealth.

Authority.

Sway.

Even a single one, hitting peak levels, could make anyone swell with pride, haughty toward the rest; even the good-hearted aren't immune.

Reverence.

Modesty.

Turn crucial in those times; he'd risen five small steps in five years too, and without mindset tweaks, he might be drifting high himself by now.