Chapter 11: Zhang Long's Performance Targets

Tuesday slipped by in a flash.

Takumi Energy opened with another limit-down, no need to dwell on it. Zhang Long had already laid the groundwork and was waiting for the decline to halt and for a rebound.

The two other major clients that Liang Xue had shared, whom he still hadn't reached, continued to ignore his calls. After texting them a brief update, Zhang Long left it at that. He figured he’d just keep calling each day—maybe one day they’d pick up. Let fate decide.

The pace of work moved forward in an orderly, unhurried fashion.

...

“Honey, you’re awake?”

In an apartment somewhere, Zhang Lizhen, her belly heavy with pregnancy, was busy at her computer. Yesterday, when XX Pharmaceuticals had a 10% profit, she’d already sold for a gain, freeing up her funds. Now, she’d put everything into Takumi Energy. No sooner had she finished the transaction than she heard footsteps behind her—her husband of many years.

“Yeah. My head hurts.” The man shook his head. He’d drunk plenty the previous night trying to woo investors—red wine, white spirits, at least a kilo altogether—but still hadn’t secured any backing. It left him feeling powerless.

“Have your fun, but don’t get too worked up. If anything happened to the baby, it wouldn’t be good,” he said gently.

“Don’t worry,” Zhang Lizhen replied, just as softly. There was no hint of the shrewishness she’d shown during the commotion at Shengxin. Even after losing two million in the stock market and hitting business troubles, her husband had never lost his temper or blamed her. She felt blessed.

“Honey, look at this…” Zhang Lizhen eagerly called him over to check her trading screen. “I switched to a new manager’s advice. He’s helped me earn several times now. I believe I’ll recover my losses little by little. Once I cash out, I’ll quit for good.”

“Keep three million for living expenses,” her husband smiled. He honestly didn’t understand much about the stock market, but as long as his wife was happy, that was enough. Losing some money didn’t matter; as long as mother and child were safe, all was well. Trading stocks was just a pastime, a way to relieve the pressures of real life.

“Mm.” The man stroked Zhang Lizhen’s silky hair, then went to the side room to eat the simple breakfast she’d prepared.

A new day: keep at it.

...

“Mr. Chen, your signature, please.”

In a certain office, the secretary knocked and entered, handing over some documents. Chen Youwei glanced through them; seeing nothing amiss, he signed quickly with his custom fountain pen.

“Mr. Chen, Mr. Zhao from home renovations has booked lunch with you. The location’s already on your phone.”

“Got it.” The secretary swayed out gracefully, but Chen Youwei had no interest in appreciating the view. His eyes had already returned to the stock market—every one of his accounts was in the red.

He wasn’t just trading at Shengxin Financial.

He wasn’t short of money, but the game was frustrating.

Last week he’d finally made a little on Takumi Energy, but after just a weekend, everything changed. Monday and Tuesday saw consecutive limit-downs; today, Wednesday, it opened with a 7% drop and nearly hit the limit again, now just barely holding steady.

The investment manager from Shengxin had just called, recommending he watch for a rebound and profit—meaning it was basically a good time to buy. But would it really rise? He’d already added another million to his position last week. Should he really add more now?

Could the five-yuan threshold hold?

“Nearing ten million…” Chen Youwei glanced over his several trading accounts. He’d invested a total of about nine million, yet now had less than 3.5 million left. The losses were staggering.

Even with a net worth in the hundreds of millions, throwing ten million into the stock market was no small matter. He didn’t want to add more.

In the end, trading stocks was just a lonely game.

“This is the last time.” Chen Youwei exhaled, made up his mind, and transferred another million into Takumi Energy through his Shengxin account, bringing his total to ten million. No more after this, no matter how sweetly the investment managers talked—the line was drawn.

If there’s profit to be made, so be it. If not, so be it. He’d wait for a bull market to play for real; a bear market was pointless.

Losing every day—he felt drained to the bone.

...

“OK, that’s the first time.”

Qian Caiying hung up the phone, rubbing her drowsy eyes. She’d been woken from sleep by a call from Zhang Long, the investment manager at Shengxin—damn him.

She had deposited a million on Monday afternoon but hadn’t been given any instructions on Tuesday. Now, on Wednesday, it was time to make a move.

Takumi Financial, had the decline finally stabilized?

Yawning, Qian Caiying wandered from her bedroom on the second floor of her villa to her study. She soon had her computer up, watching the market. Takumi Energy was now down 5% for the day, having bounced a little after opening with a 7% drop.

She’d given Zhang Long three chances. If her account didn’t turn a profit within those, there’d be no more deposits. Now, it was time to use the first one to buy Takumi Energy.

“Five hundred thousand.”

Yawning again, she bought five hundred thousand’s worth of Takumi Energy, half her position. If the stock turned green by the close and stabilized, she’d buy more.

Didn’t matter either way. Even if she went all in and bled dry, it’d just mean another trapped position.

She already had plenty of stocks stuck in other accounts; one more like Takumi Energy wouldn’t make a difference.

Buzz. Buzz, buzz.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

Glancing down at the caller, Qian Caiying’s sleepy look vanished. She picked up with a cheerful smile, “What’s up, dear Qingqing? Treating me to lunch?”

“No money.” The voice on the other end was a cool, clear woman’s. “Let me guess—you just woke up, lazy pig.”

“Hmph, I like it that way.”

“Sleep yourself to death, why don’t you.” The other woman was blunt. “You’ve got a huge family business, but you’ll squander it all one day. This is my last time inviting you to come work for me—my marketing department is hopeless.”

“You’re playing the stock market anyway. Why not come run my whole marketing department instead?”

“The bear market’s about to end.”

That caught Qian Caiying’s attention. “Is your intel solid? Never mind, for the sake of our years as best friends, I’ll reluctantly agree. But it’ll have to wait until after the National Day holiday—can’t do it now.”

“I’m going to finish playing through September first.”

“Fine, let’s go eat!”

With that, Qian Caiying sent a kiss through the phone and went to wash up and get ready: time to shine.

...

“Hey, she made a move.”

Liang Xue brought good news—Qian Caiying’s account had just bought five hundred thousand in Takumi Energy. The remaining half would be invested once the trend stabilized.

Zhang Long’s advice was clear: as soon as the stock closed flat or turned green, that would be a good time to focus and add more.

It had been a fruitful morning.

Clients who’d bought XX Pharmaceuticals earlier had already taken profits by yesterday’s close, freeing up funds to buy Takumi Energy this morning for the rebound. If they could hold out until Friday, they’d sell; nobody wanted to hold over the weekend, for fear of another Monday crash.

Zhang Long was confident that many would follow his lead this time. Even stubborn clients like Chen Youwei would likely sell, otherwise there was nothing more he could do.

“Five…”

Liang Xue was delighted. That morning, Zhang Long’s clients—including Chen Youwei’s extra million and four other clients adding a total of 1.5 million—had put in 2.5 million. With the previous 3.5 million, that brought September’s total to six million.

Unbelievable.

The rest of the team, seven people in total, had only managed five million combined from old and new clients. Zhang Long alone had surpassed them all. And if Qian Caiying’s promised further funds came through, he’d double their total.

The team’s September performance was in the bag.

Neither Zhang Long nor Liang Xue had any real risk of being cut now; no matter how hard the other seven teams tried, they couldn’t catch up.

How could they not be happy?

But it was too soon to celebrate. Usually, the first half of the month was for laying foundations; the real explosion came in the last two weeks. Nothing was certain until the end of September—no room for complacency.

Yes, keep it up: onward.