Tang Xin's Charm

Cao Cheng posted so early precisely to warn the few rational people out there. As the saying goes, saving even one is worth the effort.

After all, that’s the mark of a true hero.

Besides, truly rational people wouldn’t waste time arguing with Cao Cheng online.

Those who did engage in verbal battles with him were unlikely to believe him anyway.

So…

Apart from trying to save a few souls, he was also collecting the emotional outbursts from these online quarrels.

Otherwise, there’d be no need to post so early—because the market was still on the rise.

This was just the beginning!

The index was only at 5,700 now.

And with every surge, the amount of emotional energy Cao Cheng harvested doubled.

The only downside was that most of the mockery lately came from small-time investors and retail traders. The so-called experts hadn’t shown their faces yet.

Either they were cautiously observing the market, afraid of being proven wrong too soon,

or they were hesitant because of Cao Cheng’s collaboration with the "Finance Queen" Tang Xin.

In any case,

Cao Cheng wasn’t entirely satisfied.

……

October 9th—the market continued its upward climb, officially breaking past 5,700 and solidifying its position at this critical level.

October 10th—a sudden surge sent the index skyrocketing to 5,860, shocking the market.

By closing, it had retraced slightly but still held firm at 5,770!

October 11th—another breakthrough past 5,800, soaring to 5,900, and even stabilizing at a high of 5,910 by the end of the day, closing with a solid red candlestick.

The market was bordering on madness.

On this day,

everyone struck gold.

Some had sold their homes, leveraged their positions, and in extreme cases, made enough in a single day to buy another house—or even more.

……

In the days following the National Day holiday, the market gave Cao Cheng the impression that it had lost all sanity.

News reports emerged.

An elderly woman broke down in tears after failing to open a trading account due to long queues.

A man stabbed his "friend" for refusing to repay borrowed money—he was desperate to invest.

These were isolated incidents, not representative of the whole.

But they revealed something deeper.

Meanwhile, Cao Cheng’s "bearish post" remained pinned at the top of the forum.

Finally, an industry "expert" stepped forward.

He posted a scathing critique of Cao Cheng.

"Some people’s posts should be deleted. This is a forum for stock discussions, not tourism. Having such nonsense pinned at the top is misleading. And that username—‘God’? Unworthy titles invite disaster!" The expert, a cultured man, even cursed Cao Cheng with classical references.

Cao Cheng fired back instantly.

Since the man was educated,

Cao Cheng would respond in kind.

His reply: "Go f yourself!"

[Ding~ Negative emotions exploded!]

Damn.

Did he just give the guy a heart attack?

……

The next day.

October 12th—a weekend.

The market nearly achieved the infamous "Black Friday" status.

Plummeting from 5,900 to 5,600, wiping out the entire week’s gains in one go…

But then, miraculously, it clawed its way back up, stabilizing once more at 5,900!

The market descended into utter frenzy.

If it wouldn’t fall,

then it had to rise.

Charge!!!

Most were convinced new highs were inevitable.

Cao Cheng was swamped, typing out insults even after the market closed—30,000 words of fury in a single day. If not for his youth, he’d have collapsed from exhaustion.

But it was a bountiful harvest.

Between the market and the emotional energy he’d collected, he was too busy to even open his treasure chests.

……

Over the weekend,

Cao Cheng visited Aotian Fund.

It wasn’t his first time, but it was rare enough that Tang Xin personally greeted him.

Many employees working overtime that weekend got their first glimpse of the legendary "Stock God Aotian."

To their surprise,

the man who raged online, cursing competitors left and right, turned out to be strikingly handsome, young, and disarmingly friendly in person.

Yet many still regarded him with caution.

His reputation preceded him.

Even the company bore his online alias.

That alone spoke volumes about his stake and influence.

"Why so many people working today?" Cao Cheng asked casually as they entered the office.

Tang Xin shot him an exasperated look. "Why do you think? After following your instructions last week, we pulled most of our funds out. Now we have to sort through the profit data and draft public statements."

Cao Cheng chuckled. "So it’s my fault now?"

"Who else’s would it be?"

Tang Xin sighed. "On normal weekends, I’d be out shopping or drinking with your second sister. Ever since I started working for you, I haven’t had a single weekend off."

Cao Cheng grinned. "Fine, fine. Once this is over, I’ll take you shopping—as long as you want."

(Though he mentally added: Not that I’ll last long.)

"You promise?" Tang Xin’s eyes sparkled with delight.

"My word. We’ll go to Hong Kong—buy whatever you want." (And maybe something for me too.)

"Better remember that." Tang Xin giggled.

The usually poised businesswoman had been acting more and more like a schoolgirl around him lately.

……

Then came business.

Cao Cheng reviewed the reports, analyzing the firm’s performance.

The capital deployed wasn’t massive—under a billion—but the returns were impressive, especially with the leverage they’d used.

Most positions had been liquidated the previous week, leaving only a few stragglers. No rush—the market wouldn’t crash overnight.

When Cao Cheng focused, he was all business.

Tang Xin watched him with admiration, eventually moving behind him to massage his shoulders.

A sign of closeness.

Cao Cheng didn’t refuse, enjoying the attention while he worked.

Twenty minutes later,

he set the reports down and nodded. "Solid profits. We should renegotiate management fees—go for performance-based splits. Oh, and it’s time to short."

Fund management fees usually came in two forms: fixed or performance-based.

The latter—floating rates—were for those confident in their returns.

Tang Xin didn’t mind either way, but she was curious. "You really don’t see further upside?"

Cao Cheng smirked, grabbed her hand from his shoulder, and pulled.

With a soft yelp,

Tang Xin tumbled into his lap.

Her expression was a mix of delight and embarrassment.

This was the first time he’d initiated anything.

She pretended to struggle, then gave up with a playful glare. "Stop it. We’re in the office."

Cao Cheng grinned. "Door’s closed. And we’re just whispering—gotta stay close. Who knows if this room’s bugged? We’re discussing billion-dollar moves here. Walls have ears."

A flimsy excuse.

Tang Xin didn’t call him out, just swatted his arm in mock annoyance.

Cao Cheng turned serious. "It’s not that I don’t believe in the rally. But have you seen the latest policy shifts?"

Tang Xin nodded. "They’re bullish, aren’t they?"

"..."

Cao Cheng was speechless.

Reality could be surreal sometimes.

The world was drowning in news—some true, some false, a tangled mess of bullish and bearish signals.

Some things can only be analyzed in hindsight to determine which pieces of information were truly useful and which merely appeared valuable but were ultimately irrelevant.

Let me put it this way.

At any given moment, market news is inherently dualistic.

This touches on knowledge beyond finance—it’s a matter of philosophy and perception.

As the old saying goes, every advantage has its disadvantage, and a loss may turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

Take, for example,

monetary easing and relaxed leverage policies. On the surface, these are bullish signals, flooding the market with hot money and driving prices up.

Yet, these very same policies can also lead to inflated valuations, even bubbles, amplifying instability and risk in the long run.

The same logic applies to financial reforms. While they’re designed to steer the market toward healthier growth—a positive development—

they inevitably come with short-term pain, making them a double-edged sword.

So,

if you’re convinced the market will rise, you’ll inevitably cherry-pick bullish news to support your bias.

Conversely, if you’re bearish, you’ll interpret the same news as confirmation of a downturn.

That’s the market for you.

Until the final moment, you never truly know whether a piece of news is good or bad. What seems favorable today might hide a landmine, dormant now but deadly later.

And that’s what makes financial markets so fascinating.