Reaching the age of thirty, my income randomly doubled-Chapter 872 - 661 December

The days passed leisurely, and soon it was late August.

Chen An’an was thoroughly enjoying her work at her Anle Investment Fund.

She started with investments from acquaintances, though her "acquaintances" were mostly introduced by the company’s internal staff.

This could be considered a kind of corporate benefit—as long as the introduction came from an employee, the investor would likely receive a bit of funding from her.

Some intended to play tricks, but Chen An’an’s standards were simple: you could lose all her money according to the plan, but if you tried to swindle it into your own pocket through deception...

She would easily have you singing "Tears Behind Bars" while also firing the employee who introduced you.

While kind-hearted, Chen An’an had her absolute principles when it came to these matters.

Anyone bold enough to openly cheat her would face the harshest legal consequences.

With her looming transition to first-year high school, her studies grew slightly more demanding. Without a few strict measures, her company might already have descended into chaos.

At her age, there were hardly anyone else in the country managing a company this large.

She truly cherished this opportunity. Back home, her mother, Song Yanxi, was already preparing her school supplies.

High school meant living on campus, which wouldn’t allow her to return home every day, but fortunately, she had already adapted to this during middle school.

The school wasn’t too far from home—just half an hour’s drive away.

"An’an, once you’re at school, you won’t be able to eat whatever you want like you do at home anymore. You must learn to adjust, alright?"

"Mom, it’s not like I haven’t boarded at school before. You don’t need to keep reminding me!"

"I’m just worried that you’ll suffer and get tired out there."

"I won’t suffer at all."

Chen An’an packed her essentials and made sure to bring along her laptop. While she attended school, her company would be left in the care of people dispatched by her parents.

She would only oversee it herself during holidays.

"Do you need anything else for school?"

"Nope, I already have everything I need."

That evening, the whole family gathered at the third-floor restaurant for dinner, not just her immediate family but also her younger sister Chen Qi and her oldest sister’s family.

The prospect of starting high school—it would be dishonest to say she wasn’t excited.

Unlike Er Piya, who was flamboyant, Chen An’an approached her high school transition quite modestly.

She only brought a few simple items, and the dorm conditions weren’t particularly special.

The room housed four girls—the other three were locals, while one was from out of town.

Warmly, Chen An’an greeted her new roommates. Barring surprises, these would be her most important companions for the year ahead.

As for Er Piya, she was still only in fifth grade.

Listless as ever, Little Third, Chen Lu, had just officially started first grade.

Time raced by like a fleeting horse. On November 30, 2022, Guangzhou completely lifted pandemic restrictions.

This meant that the three-year struggle with the pandemic was finally coming to an end. Some cheered, while others worried.

History moves forward relentlessly; no one can stop it.

After restrictions were lifted, however, the anticipated surge in revenge spending didn’t occur. Instead, people started preferring to save money.

From traditional consumption to luxury spending, everything continued to decline.

Even as the pandemic ended, what dawned wasn’t clear skies, but rather, tougher challenges.

Tang Jing led her secretary team, including members from Tengying Economic Research Institute, in crafting contingency plans for worst-case scenarios.

But what did this mean?

Initially, everyone hoped things would improve after the pandemic ended.

People envisioned returning to regular jobs, normal spending, and living with bright prospects again.

Yet… lightning struck amidst a sunny day.

A more severe wave of flexible employment surged in, bringing wage cuts, difficult job searches for college graduates, and widespread unemployment to everyone.

Before, with the pandemic ongoing, people could blame everything on it, holding onto hope that once it ended, everything would turn better.

But the harsh reality after the pandemic revealed a labor landscape where jobs became increasingly scarce. Even with relentless overtime, risks of sudden business closures and layoffs loomed large.

The root cause of this? The housing market had tanked.

When homes stopped selling, the ripple effects it caused were unimaginably catastrophic.

This issue impacted society a hundred times more severely than the pandemic itself.

The Tengying Group wasn’t too worried, but smaller companies were confronting unprecedented challenges.

Wearing high heels that clicked sharply on the floor, Tang Jing strode into the CEO’s office, handed Chen Pingsheng a market analysis report, and said:

"Boss, over 80% of the traditional businesses we invested in that haven’t gone public yet are facing severe losses. President Chu wants to bundle these small projects for sale. If they can’t sell, no further investments will be made."

Entrepreneurship entails risks, and investing carries them too. The Dream Fund previously focused on supporting small and medium-sized businesses.

At least tens to hundreds of billions of dollars had been invested in this area. While some ventures succeeded, most faced harsh market challenges.

The Dream Fund would now start cutting losses, offloading small projects that hadn’t seen progress for one or two years.

Previously, many still held out hope. But as the pandemic ended, the lack of spending snapped everyone back to reality.

"Let her make the final decisions."

The Dream Investment Fund had since become one of the most reputed funds in the country. It broke even as early as last year.

In fact, it even generated considerable profit.

Its profit primarily came from projects that went public or through investments in shares of listed companies.

If a project failed to reach the listing stage, it was considered an investment failure.

Of course, some ventures that performed decently before listing could still sell their shares profitably.

"Boss, should we lower the recruitment quotas for next year?"

"Yes, the quotas should indeed be reduced."

Chen Pingsheng said, "Over the next few years, the group won’t undergo significant expansions. Apart from the renewable energy division, the other sectors will primarily focus on consolidation. If we can stabilize and secure the next four to five years, that will be more important than anything else."

This wasn’t unique to the Tengying Group—most companies were opting for consolidation as well.

But what did this signify?

Job openings at the group would become increasingly scarce each year, with recruitment numbers nothing like before, when they used to hire thousands at once. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

For today’s college graduates, job-seeking had reached nightmare-level difficulties—after spending tens of thousands of dollars over years of rigorous study, graduation revealed a labor market where even basic, respectable jobs were hard to secure.

It was hard to know whether this was a tragedy for the graduates or their parents.

If possible, Chen Pingsheng would have loved to hire tens of thousands of people each time, along with providing them high welfare and benefits.

But reality no longer allowed for such generosity.

Across the Tengying Group, only the renewable energy division, the health sector, and Tengyou Media under the short-video domain were thriving.

The other listed companies weren’t doing well.

Bobo Milk Tea managed to eke out some profit, but it was minimal.

Fei Yangyang kept losing money year after year; the same went for Snacks Dash, Antler Coffee, Tengying Entertainment, and Yateng Short Drama. None showed promising prospects.

He couldn’t afford to hire too many people.

While bad news was aplenty, there were also some surprising pieces of good news.

NVIDIA, after its own period of decline, was on a strong rebound.

Its market capitalization soared from a low of over $300 billion to more than $600 billion.

Chen Pingsheng personally held nearly $40 billion worth of shares in the company.

Money was no longer an issue.

Still, Chen Pingsheng was eager to resolve the matter with Fei Yangyang—it couldn’t continue bleeding losses indefinitely.

He also had no interest in investing further into low-margin catering businesses.