Chapter 11: What a joke!

"Have you heard? This market downturn seems to have caused a few of our guys to lose their nerve. They just quit, handed in their resignations, and that's it."
In the office, people whispered the latest gossip, a faint smell of tension hanging in the air.
"Ha, when has this kind of thing ever been uncommon in the market?"
Another voice chimed in, its tone flat, as if it were commonplace:
"We use data to predict stock prices, that's true. But frankly, to calculate this with absolute precision is the domain of gods! If you get flustered and your hands go weak during trading because of these fluctuations, then it's definitely better to get out early."
Investing, in essence, is a battle of willpower and composure.
As someone once said.
This vast stock market is essentially a stew of human greed and fear.
Sometimes it's a frenzy, like wildfire sweeping across the land, engulfing all reason;
Sometimes it's a panic, like an icy river crossing, freezing all courage.
Many companies that look like empty shells with terrible financial reports see their stock prices soar, breaking through all ceilings;
And many companies with solid foundations and rock-solid stability have their stock prices languishing, half-dead, a frustrating sight to behold.
All of this silently reveals:
What drives stock price fluctuations is often not the company's inherent strength.
More often than not, it's driven by emotions, dreams, greed, and fear!
The human heart is like a reed in the wind, swaying uncertainly, fragile and fickle.
In such a volatile and treacherous arena, if you can't even maintain your own composure, you're not qualified to be in the securities business.
This is especially true for private equity traders like them, whose decisions every minute, every second can determine their life or death.
A slight flaw in one's mindset can lead to utter ruin; a single thought can lead to heaven or hell, entirely beyond one's control.
In the chairman's office, Huang Fengwen, the head of Fanghuan Investment, looked up at the subordinate who had just reported, his voice revealing neither joy nor anger:
"The battery sector issue, is it resolved?"
"Yes. After several twists and turns, we finally managed to cut our losses in time." The subordinate quickly replied, his speech a little faster.
"The market did overreact to the sudden news. Later, after the news was fully digested by the market, the bubble burst quite quickly. Of course… some losses were still inevitable."
"Being able to cut our losses to this extent and withdraw in time is already very fortunate."
Huang Fengwen's tone was indifferent, his fingers unconsciously tapping the mahogany table, producing a dull "thump-thump" sound.
"Look at the US market. That's real excitement! There's no limit to how much it can go, no upper or lower ceilings—it's a real meat grinder!"
Unlike their domestic counterparts who are timid and hesitant, the wolves on Wall Street play even more recklessly; short selling is commonplace.
The rules there are wilder.
If you misjudge, if you step out of step, no matter how successful you were before, how big your company is, you might be wiped out in a flash, completely destroyed.
There, there are no daily price limits like in China.
Victory or defeat, profit or loss, depends entirely on skill, courage, and… that elusive luck.
Huang Fengwen let out a long, stale breath, feeling as if the bones in his body were about to fall apart.
He slumped heavily back in his large, expensive executive chair, his neck arched back, head resting against the backrest, his eyes vacant, staring blankly at the pale, cold ceiling above him.
The light was so bright it stung his eyes.
Fanghuan Investment, the warship he had personally built, was sailing at unprecedented speed, charging towards the ranks of top private equity firms.
The company was thriving, its momentum incredibly strong, seemingly radiating unparalleled success.
But the more successful it was, the stronger the feeling of walking on thin ice became within him.
Every step felt like walking on a frozen lake in winter; he could clearly hear the subtle, unsettling cracking sound beneath his feet.
He knew that the slightest misstep, the smallest mistake, could cause this seemingly solid ice to collapse instantly, dragging him and his warship into a frigid abyss of no return.
The stock market, that damned place, calling it the devil's roulette wheel is an understatement!
The pyramid you painstakingly built can crumble in minutes, even seconds, with a single lapse in concentration, a slip of the hand, or a foolish decision, leaving not a trace!
"Damn it..." he muttered, his voice filled with exhaustion and an indescribable anxiety.
He rubbed his throbbing temples, feeling as if countless bees were buzzing in his head.
"I have to play a couple of games later, otherwise I can't calm down."
Only in that virtual world, where he could fight freely and settle scores with gusto, could these heavy, almost crushing anxieties and pressures of reality be temporarily cast aside.
This was his sole reason for being addicted to games, one of the few stressors he found for himself.
A moment of respite, or rather, a brief escape.
However, a thought suddenly flashed into his mind, and a figure jumped out without warning.
"I wonder... how's that kid Su Hao doing now?"
Huang Fengwen's brows furrowed subconsciously. It was a name that gave him a headache.
Saying he didn't want to give him any special treatment would be self-deception.
Completely washing his hands of the matter was simply unrealistic.
After all, this kid was someone he had personally spoken to, faced pressure, and blatantly forced into the position through connections.
Which of the shrewd people below didn't know?
He had even specifically instructed his secretary to keep a close eye on Su Hao's situation, and to report to him immediately if there was any "stirring news" or "special circumstances"...
Knock knock—
Just then, there was a gentle knock on the office door.
"Mr. Huang, may I come in for a moment?"
Speak of the devil, and he appears.
It was the secretary's voice, always so calm and composed.
Huang Fengwen sat up straighter, cleared his throat, and composed himself: "Come in. What is it?"
The secretary entered, holding a thin document, and stood before the desk:
"Ah, it's about Su Hao. Didn't you previously instruct us to keep a close eye on him, and to report to you if anything... um, 'special circumstances' occurred?"
Huang Fengwen's heart skipped a beat, a bad premonition washing over him:
"Yes, that's right. What happened? Did that kid get into trouble?"
Several thoughts flashed through his mind instantly:
Did he get into a fight with a colleague?
Or did he recklessly argue with his boss?
It didn't seem like it... That kid seemed quite clever and knew how to handle things. Although a bit green, he didn't seem like the kind of brainless troublemaker.
Besides, how much trouble could a new trading assistant who'd only been there a few days possibly cause?
The secretary gently placed the document on the desk in front of Huang Fengwen.
Huang Fengwen took the document with suspicion, his gaze casually sweeping over it.
Then…
His pupils constricted sharply! As if pricked by a needle!
His brows furrowed deeply.
“Wait… what the hell is this?”
His voice suddenly rose, filled with incredulous astonishment, “A full-time trader? Su Hao? Promoted?”
The contents of the document were completely unrelated to his earlier guess.
The secretary maintained her professional composure, nodding slightly:
“Yes, Mr. Huang. Recently, there have been many traders leaving. To fill the vacancies promptly, the company has decided to promote several outstanding new employees. Mr. Su Hao… is on this promotion list.”
“I—fuck!” Huang Fengwen nearly crumpled the paper in his hand into a ball! He abruptly looked up, his eyes blazing with fury:
"Are these bastards out of their minds? Or have they all gone mad?"
A fresh graduate who probably can't even read a candlestick chart, promoted to a trader using company funds for live trading?
What a joke!
He almost slammed his fist on the table, ordering the trading department director in charge of this, and that damned Zhou Yi, to be summoned to his office immediately!
To give them a good dressing down!
But… his hand, halfway raised, froze in mid-air.
"...No."
He narrowed his eyes, the anger gradually replaced by a complex, unfathomable light, his mind racing faster than ever before.
The people below…
They couldn't possibly not know that Su Hao was someone Huang Fengwen had planted.
Especially Zhou Yi, the one directly responsible for mentoring Su Hao…
They've probably been having a pretty tough time lately, haven't they?
Facing such a powerful figure with an unclear background and unknown depths every day, should one treat them with utmost care and respect?
Or pretend ignorance and handle things strictly by the book?
Should one secretly offer special treatment to appear adept at handling things?
Or should one ignore it altogether to avoid getting burned?
They're probably so worried their hair is turning white, racking their brains to come up with this seemingly absurd yet well-intentioned "indirect" method to test one's attitude?
As for the trading department director who ultimately signed off on this promotion list…
Hmph, probably playing dumb while knowing full well what's going on, cursing under their breath!
But what could he do? This person was someone his boss, Mr. Huang, had placed there.
Huang Fengwen's lips curled into a self-deprecating bitter smile: "If you don't know what to do, you can just come and ask me..."
But then he thought, a director of the trading department, eagerly approaching his boss, cautiously asking:
"Mr. Huang, what exactly is the meaning behind that 'connected' person you put in before? How should we serve them?"
The image... just thinking about it was indeed quite ridiculous, quite embarrassing, utterly disgraceful.
"Then... Mr. Huang, what do you mean...?"
Seeing his fluctuating expression, the secretary cautiously inquired.
Huang Fengwen waved his hand, his anger completely dissipated, replaced by a playful expression:
"Fine, let it be. Let them do what they want."
"Huh?" The secretary was clearly taken aback. "You...you're really going to promote him to a full-fledged trader...?"
"Sigh, there's nothing I can do."
Huang Fengwen leaned back in his large chair, rubbed his temples, crossed his arms over his stomach, and spoke with a mixture of helplessness and self-righteousness:
"Ultimately, this is my fault. I didn't explain things clearly enough beforehand, and just threw him down like that. It's normal for the people below to misunderstand and cause some trouble."
He even felt in his heart that this...seemed quite good.
It was a lucky accident.
Perfect! He'd use this opportunity to let that kid Su Hao plunge headfirst into this treacherous, bloody market, to experience firsthand, with real money, just how hot and tough investing really is!
Letting reality slap him hard a few times might not seem like a bad thing.
Anyway, that kid knows absolutely nothing about investing; he's a complete novice.
Did Zhou Yi really promote him expecting him to immediately shoulder the responsibility, charge into battle, and generate excess profits for the company?
Bullshit!
It's just a show, for Huang Fengwen to see:
"Look! I haven't treated your man badly at all! He's been promoted to a full-fledged trader! Pretty generous, right?"
Huang Fengwen knows exactly what's going on; he's perfectly aware of his subordinates' ulterior motives.
“That Zhou Yi definitely knows what’s going on,” he said calmly to his secretary.
“He wouldn’t dare hand over the real trading quota to that kid Su Hao. He’s probably just giving him a nominal position, a token amount of money to practice with, just to put on a show for everyone.”
“That’s settled then. You, continue to keep an eye on things on his end. Report back immediately if anything happens.”
“Yes, Mr. Huang,” the secretary replied respectfully, quietly leaving and gently closing the door behind her.
Silence returned to the office.
A barely perceptible, slightly mischievous smile played on Huang Fengwen’s lips.
He could almost picture the utterly dumbfounded expression on Su Hao’s face when he suddenly heard he’d been promoted to a full-fledged trader.
A complete novice who can barely recognize candlestick charts is suddenly told he's going to be a real trader...
Haha, no wonder he's totally bewildered! He'd be scared out of his wits if he didn't wet his pants!
And then what?
Most likely, he'd be frantically searching, dizzy and disoriented, randomly clicking around on the colorful screen, only to squander his meager credit limit until he was practically penniless.
Then, the kid would definitely be all crestfallen, feeling like the sky has fallen, having let the company down, and even more so, letting down the discerning "guild leader" who had given him such a golden opportunity.
Hmm…
Then, I'd make my "perfect" grand entrance!
Like a true, all-knowing older brother, I'd pat him on the shoulder with a calm, world-weary tone, and say earnestly:
"It's alright, young man. You always have to pay your dues on the road to growth. This little setback is nothing."
Ah! What a perfect script!
This was the demeanor, the kind of omnipotent, god-like "guild leader" Su Hao envisioned! This was the style he should have!
Thinking about this, Huang Fengwen felt inexplicably much better.