Chapter 13 - Newbies and retail investors are cursing up a storm

"Lu Liang, wanna grab breakfast together later?" For two days in a row, Lu Liang had shown up at the community fitness center at a fixed time, and he'd even made a new friend here. The man's name was Meng Changkun, five years older than Lu Liang. He was a shareholder of several companies and a well-known figure in Shanghai's venture capital circle. They were around the same age, having met at the fitness center's swimming pool, and they'd hit it off quite well. "Sure thing, Brother Kun. Wait for me—I'll go change clothes." After taking a shower, Lu Liang changed into casual wear, stuffed his sportswear into a numbered bag, and handed it to the staff. He'd just moved into Tomson Riviera two days ago. He'd bought an annual membership at the Tomson Club's fitness center and rented a small private room there too. Every time he finished working out, he didn't have to trudge home all sweaty to change clothes—he just left them with the management office. They would wash and dry the clothes for him, and the next day, his clean sportswear and toiletries would be neatly laid out in his private room. "How do you like that babe's figure?" As they sat down for a meal at a restaurant near the community gate, Meng Changkun kept sneaking glances at the beautiful women passing by. Funny enough, it was a beautiful woman that had brought the two of them together in the first place. A drop-dead gorgeous woman had walked into the swimming pool the other day. Both of them had been staring at her with appreciation. Their eyes had met, they'd exchanged a few comments, and found themselves in complete agreement. They'd instantly felt like they'd known each other for years. "Forget about her. Her figure is definitely smoking, but her face has definitely had some work done—at the very least, she's had Botox injections." Lu Liang followed Meng Changkun's gaze. A curvy woman in tight jeans was walking by, with a peachy, perky butt and long, straight legs in high heels. But when she turned her head, her nose, chin, and apple cheeks looked off. The sight instantly killed any interest Lu Liang had in appreciating her. He preferred the all-natural look. "You just don't get it. So what if she's had some plastic surgery? It's not like we're gonna marry her. Chicks like that are definitely wild—they have a different kind of charm." Meng Changkun shook his head, disagreeing with Lu Liang. He spoke in the tone of a seasoned veteran, passing on his years of experience with women. Suddenly, he changed the subject. "Hey, Brother Lu—if you're into all-natural beauties, I might have just the opportunity for you." "A producer of a new online movie hit me up recently, asking me to invest some money. Wanna come with me to the casting call?" "Most of the girls coming in for auditions are art school students—pure, innocent, and cute. They'll definitely check all your boxes." Lu Liang had popped up out of nowhere. Young, living in Tomson Riviera, and driving a Bentley worth millions of yuan. Meng Changkun had done a little digging, but he couldn't find any affiliated companies under Lu Liang's name. He couldn't quite figure out Lu Liang's background, so he planned to use this casting call as an excuse to sound him out. Lu Liang raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Are these auditioning girls goldfish... or wooden fish?" Meng Changkun was slightly stunned for a second, then burst out laughing. "Well, that depends on how skilled you are." Goldfish are only for looking at; wooden fish, on the other hand, are for tapping. Lu Liang put on a serious face, cupped his hands, and said, "Brother Kun, you've gotta take me with you." "No problem at all. I'll give you a call a few days before the casting starts." "Looking forward to it." The two men exchanged a knowing look and dropped the subject. Suddenly, Meng Changkun's phone rang. He answered it, then turned to Lu Liang. "Sorry, brother—I've gotta foot the bill and run. Something urgent just came up at the company." "No worries. See you later. Take care." Lu Liang smiled and waved as he watched Meng Changkun leave. The reason he'd chosen to live in Tomson Riviera wasn't just for the luxury—it was also a strategic move to expand his social circle. Even if it was just a rental, the minimum monthly rent of 72,000 yuan per unit set a very high bar. It meant that even if someone spent half their monthly income on rent, they would still need an annual salary of over 1.8 million yuan to afford living here. In short, everyone who lived here was an elite in their field, or a scion of a powerful family. Lu Liang didn't know how far he would go in the future, but he knew that money alone wasn't enough. "It's almost 9:30—I should head back to monitor the stock market." Lu Liang took a sip of soybean milk, picked up the half-eaten sandwich on his plate, and walked home eating it without a care for anyone's stares. He hadn't been twiddling his thumbs over the weekend. He'd spent most of his time decorating his study—buying a computer worth over 10,000 yuan and setting up several medium-sized monitors to make it easier to track the market and execute trades. Lu Liang was convinced that the lackluster performance of Chinese Online's stock last Friday was partly his fault. His trading move had been flawed. Instead of placing a large order upfront, he should have followed the bookmaker's playbook and bought shares gradually, leaving no trace of his activity. But he'd been trading on his phone back then, which had made it impossible to react quickly. That was why he'd gone to the trouble of setting up a proper study. One computer, three monitors—this would be his personal "battlefield" for the foreseeable future. At 9:15 a.m., the pre-market auction began. At first, Chinese Online's stock price was flat and uneventful, making investors anxious. But then, in the last five minutes before the auction closed, everything changed. The stock suddenly got a shot of adrenaline. Buy orders of thousands and tens of thousands of shares flooded in, driving the price higher with each bid, right up until the market opened. Opening price: 18.98 yuan Price increase: 1.48 yuan, a gap-up opening of 8.5%. Lu Liang's cost price was 17.91 yuan. In an instant, his total assets swung from a loss to a profit—he was now up 630,000 yuan. The gap-up opening gave the retail investors holding the stock a glimmer of hope. They were eagerly anticipating a price limit surge. But the bookmaker had no intention of letting the retail investors have their way. He would do everything he could to shake out the weak hands. 19 yuan felt like an insurmountable barrier. Time and time again, the stock price tried to break through 19 yuan, but it failed—once, twice, three times. Some investors started to hesitate. It was common knowledge that a failed breakout after a sharp rise usually led to a price drop. Murphy's Law struck again—whatever the retail investors feared the most, happened. The buying momentum dried up quickly, and the stock price began to fall. 8.5%… 7.8%… 6.6%… The profits they'd had in hand were slipping away bit by bit, like being cut with a dull knife. A flood of retail investors panicked. Unwilling to let the profits slip through their fingers, they rushed to sell their shares to lock in gains as quickly as possible. Zhang Qian was among them. Her cost price was 17.47 yuan, even lower than last Friday's closing price of 17.5 yuan. The stock was still up 6.5% now—if she sold immediately, she could make a profit of 4,900 yuan. But she barely knew the first thing about stocks. In her hurry, she'd accidentally entered a selling price that was 1 yuan higher than she'd intended. She should have set the selling price at 18.55 yuan, but she'd typed in 19.55 yuan—a price that was even higher than the daily price limit of 19.25 yuan. "Hurry, hurry, hurry! If I don't sell now, it'll be too late!" Zhang Qian panicked, trying to cancel her order so she could resell at a lower price. Suddenly, a huge wave of capital flooded into the market, sweeping up every single sell order available. A massive bullish candlestick shot straight up into the sky. 20,000 shares… 30,000 shares… 50,000 shares… In the blink of an eye, Chinese Online's stock price hit the daily upper limit and sealed the board tight. The capital locking the price limit reached 145 million yuan. Even though sell orders worth over 30 million yuan had poured in the moment the stock hit the limit, the buy orders held firm, unshakable. It was as solid as a rock. Investors could finally breathe a sigh of relief and end their trading day on a high note. "Lucky I messed up the selling price." Watching her assets jump by 8,200 yuan, almost hitting the 90,000-yuan mark, Zhang Qian felt a surge of relief. She quickly canceled her wrong sell order. With such a huge amount of capital locking the price limit, even if the stock didn't hit another limit-up tomorrow, it would at least open higher. She thought of Lu Liang and excitedly dialed his number. "Brother Liang, Brother Liang! It really hit the price limit!" "You didn't sell it off too early, did you?" Watching the bookmaker's maneuver today had taught Lu Liang a valuable lesson. That high-level shakeout—when the stock price dipped sharply—had washed out at least tens of millions of yuan worth of weak capital. "How could I? I've always believed in you." Zhang Qian's voice softened a little, sounding slightly guilty. If she hadn't messed up the selling price, she would have definitely sold her shares too early, joining the legions of investors slamming their fists in regret. For stock investors, the worst nightmare isn't losing money—it's getting shaken out at a high price and missing out on the big gains just before the dawn breaks. The stock forum was blowing up. Posts cursing the bookmaker—saying things like "may his sons be born without skin"—were flooding the page. Most of these posters had held onto the stock for a week, two weeks, or even longer, only to sell right before the big rally. Because judging from the current results and the massive capital sealing the price limit, this was definitely not going to be just one limit-up day. The bookmaker had grand ambitions. Otherwise, he wouldn't have lain low for so long, quietly accumulating shares.