Chapter 136: Subduing Qian Caiying, the Luxury Cruise Auction

Foreign exchange trading continued as usual during the Spring Festival. By the time trading closed last Friday, Zhang Long’s three forex accounts had accumulated a profit of around 250,000 USD, a very impressive figure. As the market opened this week, he continued to build on that momentum.

The Japanese Yen, British Pound, Australian Dollar, US Dollar, and Gold—these five popular assets offered no shortage of intraday opportunities.

...

"It really plunged?"

Qian Caiying was stunned. In the short time it took her to wash up and put on some light makeup, gold had entered a downward trend, and Zhang Long’s positions were now in the green.

There are no price limits in forex; as long as the price keeps falling and you hold your position, the profits keep rolling in.

Knowing when to enter is a science; knowing when to exit is an art.

Every seasoned investor knows this. When Qian Caiying traded stocks, many of her positions would start off profitable, but she would often hesitate, wondering whether to sell. Before she knew it, the price would drop back down, and she would wait for it to rise again to her break-even point.

Then, there would be no "then"—the chance would be gone.

"Still not selling?"

What surprised Qian Caiying even more was that Zhang Long showed no signs of wanting to sell. Wasn't he being too greedy?

"I haven't made enough yet."

Zhang Long clicked his tongue casually. "If you want to make big money, you have to be able to hold onto your profits. Even if the trend reverses later, that’s fine; I don’t go chasing small, petty gains."

"Just wait. If the profit looks good before noon, I'll sell. If not, I'll let it ride."

Of course, Zhang Long knew the price would drop to a significant level before noon. At that point, he planned to close his positions, reverse his strategy, and profit from the subsequent rebound—he was completely composed.

To Qian Caiying, however, Zhang Long seemed almost supernatural—or perhaps he was just showing off in front of her?

Still, besides avoiding the nagging at home, the purpose of this luxury cruise was to get to know Zhang Long better. In the past, she had only seen his stock and spot trading profits from a distance. Now, being able to watch his live operations—how he entered and exited, how he handled gains and losses—was actually quite interesting.

She was no longer bored.

"Drop, drop, drop..."

As time passed, Qian Caiying’s excitement grew even more intense than Zhang Long's. She sat to the side, snacking on nuts and watching the screen with enthusiasm, occasionally blurting out "drop, drop, drop," which was quite embarrassing.

If anyone passing by outside the cabin heard these cries, they would surely assume the two of them were in the middle of some indescribable, intimate act. It was mortifying.

"Sell, sell, sell!"

Qian Caiying shouted again. It was lunchtime; he had made a good profit, surely it was time to sell? Was he being too greedy?

"Okay, reverse!"

Suddenly, Zhang Long moved. To Qian Caiying’s shock, he closed his short positions and immediately went long. After setting his take-profit and stop-loss levels, he stood up, finished for the moment, and headed to lunch.

...

"Wow, that's impressive."

At noon, a consultant manager at Huitong glanced at Zhang Long’s account balance and couldn't help but click his tongue. He had started trading early on the second day of the Lunar New Year. Having traded forex for half a month, he had withdrawn his principal of one million yuan before the holiday. Now, the 300,000+ USD in his account was pure profit.

He had captured 100,000 USD in profit from a single gold short position this morning alone. That was remarkable.

While there were people in the forex market earning millions or even tens of millions of dollars, Zhang Long’s trading style was healthier—he never carried a losing position.

If the trend didn't look right, he would close manually, or he would be stopped out strictly according to his pre-set levels.

He was a veteran—an absolute veteran trader.

"He's not very old, either."

The consultant manager marveled. He had met Zhang Long when he came to open the account. The documents showed he was indeed young. If he were thirty, it would be one thing, but to have such formidable trading habits and instincts at twenty-four was incredible.

Of course, it wasn't necessarily Zhang Long operating the account himself. These days, hiring agents to trade for you was common, so having a master trader behind the scenes wasn't unheard of.

But it didn't matter who was doing it; as long as the account was active, there was commission to be earned.

Let him make money. The more funds in the account, the more frequent the trades. Besides, no one is perfectly rational forever. If he ever hit a massive losing streak and tried to hold onto a failing position, even a large account would be blown out. Whether it was hundreds of thousands or millions of dollars, he had seen customers lose it all before.

"Brother, what's with you?"

In a city apartment, a young man looked at his brother, who was wearing a smug grin. The Huitong consultant manager snapped back to reality. "Nothing, just made some money. Met a very good big client."

"You wanted those new AJ basketball shoes, right? I'll buy them for you this afternoon. Done."

The younger brother was thrilled. "Long live big brother! I love you forever!"

...

"Is there something on my face?"

During their Japanese lunch, Zhang Long touched his cheek while eating. Qian Caiying, sitting opposite him, wasn't eating much; she was just staring at him, her gaze making him feel a bit uneasy.

"You suddenly look handsome."

Qian Caiying smiled. "Serious men are the most handsome, and men making money are even handsomer."

"Stop, stop the infatuation."

Zhang Long gave her a look of annoyance. "Just promise not to crawl into my bed tonight. I’m a normal man with hot blood, you know."

"Pfft, did I?"

Qian Caiying brushed it off, knowing she had shifted positions while sleeping the past two nights. "Even if I did, I trust you wouldn't act like a beast. Self-disciplined men are the most handsome, especially those who are disciplined and make money..."

"Enough, eat your food."

Zhang Long was speechless. Whether he was serious or disciplined, the bottom line was that a man making money was the most handsome. If you weren't making money, looks wouldn't put food on the table.

"How much money do you have now?"

Qian Caiying changed the subject to business. "You don't need to worry about the channels and connections for opening a company, but acquiring a financial securities license is expensive. Even a package deal costs at least tens of millions. If the brand is slightly better or famous, it's even pricier, and they might not even sell."

"Like Hongze—the Ling family wouldn't sell even if they shut it down and let it sit, waiting for a bull market."

"When the bull market arrives, they'll make a killing!"

In a bear market, securities operations are difficult. Some have suspended parts of their business, while others are just barely holding on—like Hongze. Shengxin was the same, just barely hanging on.

After acquiring the license, there would be rent, salaries, advertising, and other operating costs. Qian Caiying and the others would naturally contribute some, but if he wanted to hold the controlling stake, he would have to pay the lion's share.

The second-generation kids like Qian Caiying were the guarantee for the company's operation. Their value lay in their connections, which were worth more than cold, hard cash.

Of course, the premise was that Qian Caiying and her partners were reliable and wouldn't turn their backs on him later.

How to screen them—he already had a sense of confidence.

Zhang Long didn't intend to stay home and make money forever. When money becomes just a number, it loses its flavor. He was already starting to feel that way. Sitting at home making money without spending it on things of substance was meaningless and boring.

Life's meaning wasn't just about making money.

...

"Huh? You're out already?"

Back in their room after lunch, watching Zhang Long trade forex was much more fun than wandering around outside. Before the European market opened, Zhang Long had closed his long positions from the morning. He was done.

"You can't be too greedy with a rebound."

Zhang Long shrugged with a smile. "I made a good profit on the drop, and I only take a third of the rebound at most. Even though it often recovers half, you have to know when to be greedy and when not to be."

"Forex, futures, stocks—in any investment, you must first control your losses. I once carried a losing position and lost big; that really hurts."

"In the investment market, there is never a shortage of opportunities. Losing three trades in a row is fine; you just make it back."

Qian Caiying knew these theories.

But most investors couldn't execute them rationally—Qian Caiying herself was one of them, otherwise, she wouldn't have been trapped in her previous stock investments. If a profitable trade turned sour, it was one thing, but she truly couldn't bear to close a losing one.

As humans, we are prone to wishful thinking.

Is Zhang Long human? Not quite.

Because in the following trades, Zhang Long showed Qian Caiying what it meant to admit defeat correctly. He lost two trades in a row without changing his expression, and then, by dinner, he made it all back with a single Australian Dollar swing trade. Then, during the evening US session, he had two small losses, which didn't matter.

Once the US market opened, there were plenty of opportunities in the popular assets, and he caught another big profit.

Earning and losing—he was having a blast.

Nearly half of his ten trades were losses, but the points and amounts lost were small. For his winning trades, he held onto them longer if they were at key support or resistance levels. As for catching rebounds or dips, he took smaller profits, at most a third of the move.

From morning to night, he executed over a dozen trades, all with absolute, cold rationality.

His account balance, which started at 250,000 USD, reached 500,000 USD by the time he stopped trading for the night!

On the first day of trading after the New Year, he had doubled his money!

"You doubled it?"

Qian Caiying was dazed. In Zhang Long's hands, the account doubled on the first day after the New Year—all three accounts doubled. It felt like a dream.

A total of 1.5 million USD, which was nearly 10 million yuan.

His net profit for the day was over 4.8 million yuan!

"Master, please protect me!"

Zhang Long smiled, unfazed, and turned to wash up. Qian Caiying’s eyes lit up, and she kicked the door playfully. "Want a back massage? My hands are magic, I guarantee it!"

...

The night passed, and Tuesday dawned.

Before Qian Caiying woke up, Zhang Long was already up, washing up and starting to trade. He had shown off his muscles in front of her yesterday; today, he wouldn't be so reckless. He would earn slowly—no rush. If he earned too fast, it made him nervous.

He only had three opportunities to foresee the future throughout the day.

Even so, if he really wanted to make a huge killing, he could, but it was still just "shearing the sheep." Besides, forex platforms weren't strictly regulated, so it was better to take it slow; there was no need to be as rushed as he was with spot trading.

After the New Year, the major platforms were back in action. Industry meetings usually took at least half a year to organize, so earning slowly until July or August shouldn't be a problem.

Of course, if he were to stop once he reached 100 million like he did with the spot trading, then he would have to stop.

Zhang Long also had a premonition that perhaps, like with spot trading, his "golden finger" might stop providing foresight once he reached a certain amount. He couldn't keep shearing the sheep forever. After all, with spot trading, he had only made 100 million across nine accounts before the foresight stopped—that really wasn't that much.

He had originally hoped for two or three hundred million.

He wasn't afraid of not being able to spend it. Mansions, luxury cars, or even buying an office building—three or five hundred million, even eight hundred million or a billion, would vanish in no time.

Now, his net worth was just over 150 million, nearing 200 million. He was wealthy, but not a tycoon—he was still far off.

"The first trade is a loss, huh."

Qian Caiying rubbed her sleepy eyes as she approached, glanced at Zhang Long’s trade, and muttered before heading to the bathroom. Sleeping in was nice, but watching Zhang Long trade and make money was even better. It was like watching a card game—the spectators sometimes had more fun than the players.

Zhang Long was amazing. If he opened a financial company, he would have an absolute trump card. If the Ling family wanted to steal the peaches and take Hongze back—fine, let them have it.

With his "Golden Dragon" in hand, the world was his.

"You're acting crazy."

A faint giggle came from the bathroom. Zhang Long smirked, ignored it, and turned his attention back to the computer screen. Even with his "cheat," he still needed to understand the market trends to avoid flying blind.

Why did it spike? Why did it crash?

He had to be able to explain it.

...

Hong Kong, a Special Administrative Region of China.

Located in the south of the country, it faces Macau across the sea to the west and borders Shenzhen to the north.

Since World War II, Hong Kong's economy had developed rapidly, joining the "Four Asian Tigers" and becoming one of the wealthiest, most economically developed, and highest-standard-of-living regions in the world—a place with an abundance of rich people.

It was even more prosperous than present-day Shanghai.

As a highly prosperous free port and international metropolis, it is known alongside New York and London as "NY-LON-KONG"—the world's third-largest financial center.

"It really is prosperous."

Even though he had a fear of heights, as the cruise ship drew closer to Hong Kong, Zhang Long came out to watch.

In the distance, skyscrapers stood like a forest, and luxury cruise ships and yachts were docked around the bay—far more extravagant and imposing than the ports in Shanghai.

The cruise ship would be docked in Hong Kong until tomorrow morning, and there would be an auction that night.

Those who were interested and had the financial means could enter.

But entry required a fee.

Otherwise, with thousands of people on the luxury ship alone, a small auction venue couldn't hold everyone without restrictions. The ticket was 100,000 yuan per person. Unless you were serious about bidding, you wouldn't go in—who would pay 100,000 just to take a look?

"Here, this is the auction catalog."

Qian Caiying brought over a list—gold, jewelry, luxury watches, antiques, calligraphy, paintings, and various other items.

Of course, there would be unlisted items auctioned as well, all of them exquisite.

"Huh?"

Suddenly, Zhang Long’s eyes lit up.

"Oh, you like it?"

Qian Caiying leaned over and saw the item that caught Zhang Long’s eye. She clicked her tongue. "Not bad. If you like it, just bid on it. It’s not that expensive."

"At least, it's not expensive for you."

"Well, we'll see."

Zhang Long didn't commit. The catalog only showed a starting price. In an auction, the final price depends entirely on whether there is competition. If not, the price won't go too high; if there is, it’s anyone's guess.

"A thousand gold pieces for something I love"—paying one or two times the actual value was normal, as long as he wasn't being a fool.

"Is there anything you like?"

Zhang Long turned to ask. Qian Caiying shook her head. "I don't lack the normal stuff, and the unique stuff isn't worth the price, so I won't bid."

"You just bid on what you want."

With that, Zhang Long didn't say anything more, continuing to trade forex while waiting for the evening auction.

A scene of money flowing like water—he was going to take part.