Chapter 10 - Going all-in again

Ding-dong~ The doorbell suddenly rang out. "Who is it?" Zhang Qian slipped on her bathrobe and hiked up her fishnet stockings to cover the torn spots. "Room check." Lu Liang grinned, pushed Zhang Qian's legs aside, and got up to open the door. His late-night snack delivery had arrived. After drinking and their little "session", he was feeling quite hungry. The waiter was an old hand at this—eyes straight ahead, acting as if he saw and heard nothing as he wheeled the food cart in. There was a pot of piping hot seafood congee and several plates of delicate side dishes. "Enjoy your meal, Mr. Lu." Once the waiter left, Zhang Qian sashayed over on her long legs, hips swaying with every step, her every glance and smile oozing charm. As she sat down at the table, she looked just like another one of the delicious dishes. She ladled half a bowl of congee, blew on a spoonful to cool it down, and cooed: "Open wide, big brother~ Let me feed you." "The market's looking good—worth buying." That line was too vague. She wanted to know more—like the exact entry and exit prices. But she'd overestimated herself and underestimated Lu Liang. Lu Liang was a man who'd been married before. He was willing to drop a few hints just to keep this relationship going, but he wasn't about to lose his head and spill all his secrets. Even after being "devoured" by him all over again, Zhang Qian still couldn't pry any more useful information out of him. The night wore on, and the battle came to an end. The crumpled bathrobe on the carpet and the fishnet stockings with a huge tear were silent witnesses to how intense it had been. "You rascal… How long has it been since your wife made you perform your husbandly duties?" Zhang Qian was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, a few strands of hair sticking to her flushed cheeks. Last year, when she'd been looking to buy an apartment, she'd spent over two weeks checking out more than a dozen properties before finally finding her dream home. She'd had coffee and chatted with Lu Liang a few times during that period, and she'd known back then that he was a married man. But Lu Liang's performance tonight had been nothing short of beastly—like a raging bull, every bit as vigorous as a guy in his early twenties. "Got divorced a long time ago." Lu Liang sat on the edge of the bed and lit a post-coital cigarette. "Really?" Zhang Qian suddenly thought of something and muttered indignantly: "Men are all the same—scum." People usually assumed the money came first, then the divorce. No one would ever guess it was the other way around. "What are you brooding about?" Lu Liang stubbed out the cigarette, climbed back under the covers, and pulled Zhang Qian into his arms from behind. Their skin pressed together, sharing each other's warmth. He took her hand and toyed with her manicured nails, sighing: "I was the one who got dumped, you know." Saying it out loud now didn't sting like it used to. If anything, the divorce had felt like a liberation. "That can't be true." Zhang Qian refused to believe it. Lu Liang was rich, good-looking, had a nice personality, and was that skilled in bed. He had all four elements of happiness in her book—how could he have gotten divorced? "It's a long story—too long to tell." "You even have kids?" "It's a figure of speech." "The night's still young—come on, tell me." "It all started during Chinese New Year…" "Hey! Wake up! Why'd you fall asleep?" Zhang Qian waited for ages, then turned around to find Lu Liang with his eyes closed, fast asleep. "Fine, don't tell me—stop pretending to be asleep." She muttered a few complaints, adjusted her sleeping position, and soon drifted off into a deep slumber herself. Lu Liang cracked a smile, opened his eyes, and placed his palm on the jade pendant she wore around her neck before closing his eyes again. ... At nine o'clock sharp the next morning, a shrill alarm clock blared through the room. Lu Liang rubbed his eyes. The woman beside him was already gone, leaving only a few strands of reddish hair on the white pillow. The faint sound of running water came from the bathroom. Zhang Qian stepped out, now dressed in casual clothes—a pair of tight yoga pants that accentuated the perfect curve of her hips. She obviously worked out; otherwise, she wouldn't have such a firm, perky rear. How good it felt to the touch, how well it held up—Lu Liang had thoroughly tested it out the night before. He glanced at her: "Leaving already?" "I have a yoga class—I'll be late if I don't go now." Zhang Qian leaned down to give him a lingering kiss: "Bye-bye~" "Bye~" Lu Liang didn't try to stop her. He knew she'd come looking for him again—and next time, she'd be even more proactive. At nine ten, another alarm went off. Lu Liang turned off the remaining scheduled alarms—he'd set them the night before, worried he'd oversleep. Today was Friday—the last trading day of the week. He needed to buy shares of China Online the moment the market opened. "The trading volume these past few days has been really weird." Lu Liang put on his bathrobe, lit a cigarette, and walked into the living room, keeping a close eye on the stock market. He noticed that China Online's price fluctuations looked exactly like a market manipulator accumulating shares at a low price—ready to pump it up at any moment. Lu Liang didn't dare hesitate, fearing he'd miss the opportunity. He started buying small batches the second the market opened. The opening price was 17.93 yuan, up 0.89% for the day. One lot equaled 100 shares, worth 1,793 yuan. At first, Lu Liang only bought ten to thirty lots at a time, worried the market manipulator would spot him as a "little mouse stealing oil". But he soon realized his fears were unfounded. China Online had a market capitalization of 12 billion yuan, with 2.42 billion yuan worth of shares in circulation. His ten million yuan worth of capital was like a drop in the bucket—well, maybe a slightly bigger rock, but still insignificant. The manipulator had set a resistance level at 18.00 yuan, creating the illusion that the stock couldn't break through that ceiling. Lu Liang set his buying price at 17.90 yuan. Every time the stock failed to break through the resistance level, he'd scoop up a ton of shares from panicking investors. After reading so many investment books lately, he understood retail investors' psychology perfectly. When a stock failed to break through a key level, they'd lose hope and start selling or shorting. Lu Liang happily played the role of the "savior buyer", snapping up their shares at a reasonable price without having to drive the price up. Though calling himself a savior was just wishful thinking. With only ten million yuan, he was nowhere near qualified to be the floor for a multi-billion-yuan stock. At nine forty-five—the busiest trading window, during the first and last half-hours of the trading day—China Online tried to break through 18 yuan for the second time and failed miserably. Retail investors holding large positions completely lost confidence. Unwilling to miss out on the broader market rally, they started selling in droves. Over the past four trading days, the broader market had surged 395 points, successfully breaking through the 4,700-point mark—a staggering 8.75% increase. The total market capitalization of the main board had skyrocketed by 750 billion yuan. In contrast, China Online had only risen 5.52% over the same period, even dropping for two of those days. A stock that couldn't even keep up with the market had long since driven its investors to the brink of madness. They were tired of being tortured. "The market's been on fire lately—why did I have to buy this piece of junk?" "Even if it can't compare to the monster stock Baofeng, it should at least keep up with Meiyan from the same period!" "I can't believe I ever had high hopes for you—trash! Go to hell!" "Good riddance—never coming back…" Retail investors cursed and grumbled as they sold their shares and exited the market. In the blink of an eye, Lu Liang's brokerage account was bombarded with trade confirmation notifications. Within a few breaths, his ten million yuan was completely exhausted. He now held 588,800 shares, with only 480.4 yuan in available funds left—his position was at 99.9%. Lu Liang had gone all-in again. At the same time, on her way home by taxi, Zhang Qian was also keeping an eye on the same stock. As a hardworking woman trying to make it in Shanghai, she'd opened her own brokerage account years ago—even activating the Shanghai-Hong Kong Stock Connect program. But she was risk-averse, sticking mostly to mutual funds. Thanks to the bull market over the past six months, she'd made over 80,000 yuan in profits. "Is this really reliable? Why is every other stock soaring while this one's stuck in the red?" Zhang Qian stared blankly at China Online's stock price on her phone. Just moments ago, the 17.9-yuan support level that had held firm for so long suddenly collapsed, triggering a sharp drop in the stock price. The broader market was up another 1.2% today, with thousands of stocks surging. Only 65 stocks were in the red—and China Online was one of them. It closed the day down 2.2% at 17.46 yuan. The stock's forum was flooded with complaints, with countless investors cursing up a storm. "I'll trust you once. If I lose money on this, you're buying me a private VIP room and five more bottles of Ace of Spades to compensate me next time!" Zhang Qian hesitated for a long time. She kept thinking about how she'd "given herself to him" last night—if she didn't follow this so-called inside tip, she'd feel like she'd gotten the short end of the stick. She withdrew the 580,000 yuan she had in mutual funds and used 80,000 yuan of her profits to buy 4,500 shares of China Online. She was being cautious—not wanting to put all her eggs in one basket. If the stock crashed and her mutual funds took a hit too, she'd be heartbroken.