Chapter 32: Wishful Thinking!

Everyone has their worries.

In Zhang Long’s eyes, Liang Xue had always been an optimist, carefree and untroubled. At work, she never seemed anxious about her performance; as for her personal life, he didn’t know much. But today? She seemed weighed down, troubled by something.

…

At the Bund, nearing evening, the crowds came and went. Facing the river and the breeze, it was a pleasant enough scene.

“Something on your mind?” Zhang Long asked.

Liang Xue didn’t turn to face him. Instead, she gazed at the rolling river and the passing boats, sighing, “Who in this world doesn’t have worries? Don’t you?”

Zhang Long was momentarily at a loss for words.

Liang Xue spoke softly again, “Sometimes, I actually envy you. No family headaches to deal with.”

“My parents back home constantly urge me to get married!”

At this, Liang Xue turned, shrugging lightly. “I’m three years older than you. This New Year, I’ll be twenty-eight! Most of my classmates from the village—elementary and middle school—are married with children by now.”

“If I don’t count the four years of university, I’ve been working for five or six years and still don’t have an apartment. I can’t put down roots.”

“In this metropolis, it’s impossible.”

Zhang Long fell silent. Wages were higher in this city, but housing prices were even higher. Even a place in the suburbs was out of reach for most people. There was no chance.

“Parents and children are each other’s debts.”

Liang Xue’s voice was tinged with melancholy. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come to the city for university in the first place. But after working here and broadening my horizons, I don’t want to go back home either. Most of the money I’ve managed to save has been sent back to my family. Buying a home here is out of the question—honestly, I haven’t saved that much anyway.”

“Sometimes, I feel like a failure.”

The bonds of birth and upbringing are the hardest for children living away from home to sever.

If you manage to succeed, it’s fine. But if you don’t, and you can’t return to the countryside, it’s a painful limbo.

Men are urged to marry, women to wed—it’s hard for everyone.

“By the way, Zhang Long…”

Suddenly, Liang Xue changed the subject. “Have you ever thought of looking for your biological parents? With today’s technology and information networks, if you really wanted to, you could try. I can tell you’re actually quite lonely—yes, lacking love.”

…

After Liang Xue left, Zhang Long’s face darkened.

Lacking love, she says.

Zhang Long didn’t linger at the Bund. He went home and made himself a simple bowl of noodles. Lunch had been too greasy, so for dinner something light—a bowl of plain noodles with scallions—was just right.

As for searching for his birth parents, he dismissed the idea outright. His former self had never wanted to; only resentment remained.

Unless his parents were dead, their abandonment was an unforgivable grievance. There was no affection left to speak of.

And according to the orphanage records, he’d been left at the gates as an infant, barely a month old. In those days, there were few surveillance cameras, making any search impossible.

“To be alone is to be free.”

Zhang Long slurped his noodles. Even if he lacked love, it wasn’t parental love from this world that he craved. If anything, it was the love of the flesh.

Buzz, buzz.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated. It was a message from Luo Man—was this some unspoken connection? He replied with a touch of amused sarcasm. At today’s party, with all the eating, drinking, and fun, he hadn’t really paid much attention to her, though he’d seen her likes and comments.

It was nice, having someone who cared.

“Just eating noodles, huh…”

A moment later, the video call connected. Luo Man saw him eating plain noodles and could only shake her head, speechless but not upset.

“It’s pretty good,” Zhang Long said, his eyes darting mischievously as he smacked his lips. “Want some? I can save you a bit if you like.”

“Thanks, but no.” Luo Man’s background was a busy city street. She smiled slyly. “You eat it yourself. If I take even a bite, I’ll probably be kidnapped tonight by the big bad wolf.”

Zhang Long broke out in a cold sweat. What a thing to say.

“Alright, get back to it,” Luo Man waved at the camera. “Rest early tonight. I’ve got some things to do, so I’ll hang up now.”

She didn’t say what those things were.

Zhang Long almost asked, but stopped himself. If she didn’t want to talk about it, he knew better than to pry. So he replied, “If you’re busy, go ahead. Take care, goodnight.”

“Mwah! Hanging up now.”

Before disconnecting, Luo Man puckered her lips and blew him a playful kiss—darling, muah!

This dog food is a little dry, Zhang Long thought to himself. I’m full.

…

Sunday dawned bright. Zhang Long got up early to catch the shuttle to driving school. Though he already knew how to drive and considered himself a decent driver, he still had to go through the official process—study the theory and pass the first exam.

It wasn’t difficult, just rote memorization.

He’d signed up for the VIP class, paying a full ten thousand yuan for the privilege, and it showed—after passing the first test, he wouldn’t have to wait in line to practice driving. Convenient.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Even if it did, it had nothing to do with Zhang Long, who preferred to keep to himself.

And so, in the blink of an eye, it was Monday again.

Among the individual stocks, Takumi Energy had stabilized last week and surged from 2.5 yuan to 3.3—a jump of over 30%. Before the market closed on Friday, most clients had sold off to realize their profits. Old-timer Chen Youwei, of course, hadn’t sold, continuing to buy at the bottom.

Naturally, Zhang Long no longer meddled. He’d warned them about the risks; saying more would be pointless.

As long as Chen Youwei’s account still had enough funds for daily short-term trades, it didn’t matter how much he was stuck. If the funds ran out, he’d just deposit more.

“Heh, demon stock…”

Zhang Long shook his head inwardly, amused.

This week, Takumi Energy would rise to 3.5 yuan, then lose momentum and drift back down to 2.5, only to rebound again to 3.5 by Friday before falling once more.

A perfect cycle—slicing profits back and forth.

“Hello, Sister Zhang…” Zhang Long made a call. “Let’s wait and see with Takumi Energy. Unless it breaks through 5 yuan, any rise is just a trap. If it falls back to 2.5 and stabilizes, we can reconsider. For today, refer to the ‘Short-term Guide’ I sent you…”

“No greed—control your risk.”

…

And so, Zhang Long’s third week of work in October officially began. The Blizzard team aside, the Flying Eagle and Pioneer teams were also getting on track—saving him time and effort.

Every morning before the market opened, there’d be a quick meeting to discuss the day’s trades and key stocks to watch.

The rest could come to him if needed.

Opening strategies and specific sales pitches were left to the team managers and trading supervisors to handle flexibly. Zhang Long wasn’t a nursemaid—he didn’t handhold or spoon-feed anyone.

As for Liang Xue, her attitude at work was always earnest. You’d never guess she was troubled by thoughts of marriage.

“Brother Yin…” Zhang Long’s tone was calm. “Wang told you about my trading style—last week, during every session, I stressed quick in-and-out trades. Not every trade is profitable, not even in a bull market. Gains and losses are normal.”

“One million! If you add up all last week’s profitable short trades, you’re up over two hundred thousand. So why are you losing money now? Because you held onto losing trades, hoping for a turnaround, and ended up with bigger losses as the price fell.”

“Short-term trading is all about catching the rebound.”

“You can’t just chase the highs and panic sell at the lows. So this week, I hope you can empty your cup a little—take profits on winning trades, as you’ve been doing, but also cut your losses when necessary. If you do that, you’ll recover in no time.”

“Today, let’s…”

Brother Yin was a new client introduced by Wang, but perhaps due to old trading habits, he couldn’t bring himself to cut losses on short-term trades—and that was fatal.

A stock can only move three ways: sideways, up, or down. That’s it.

Zhang Long’s recommendations focused on capturing rebounds after pullbacks—quick in, quick out, take the profit and run.

Clients made money, and the commissions weren’t bad either.

“Manager Zhang…”

Suddenly, someone tapped Zhang Long on the shoulder. He looked up to see one of the directors from the investment department, gesturing that he wanted a word. Zhang Long had a guess what this was about. And sure enough—

What was he thinking? Wishful thinking, that’s what!