Chapter 62: Zero-Sum Game
On the 17th day of Lu Liang’s lock-up, his 65,000 lots of TeLi A had quietly grown in value to nearly 190 million yuan. With a cost basis of 9.5 yuan and a current price of 29.23 yuan, he was netting 1,973 yuan per lot.
“It’s time to start cashing out,” he thought.
If his position were just a couple of million yuan, Lu Liang might have waited until the price hit 45 yuan before exiting. Smaller players can move in and out freely. But with nearly 200 million yuan tied up and the realization that TeLi A’s liquidity wasn’t as large as he initially thought—due to locked-in shares from institutions and retail collusion with major shareholders—he couldn’t risk letting his profits evaporate.
His exit strategy needed to begin at 30 yuan to unwind his position gradually.
TeLi A opened with a sharp 7.55% gain, reaching 31.45 yuan.
Everyone assumed the stock would hit the limit-up, breaking free from the broader market to chart its own independent trajectory.
At the same time, Lu Liang’s name surfaced among major players in the financial community.
Meanwhile, Lu Liang was in the middle of his fourth simulated English proficiency test, supervised by Su Wanyu. After 45 lessons, his score had improved to 340, closing in on the passing mark of 425.
Holding up his test paper with a grin, he teased, “Miss Su, at this rate, I’ll soon be collecting on your promise.”
During the 33rd lesson, after his third mock test, Lu Liang had tried inviting Su Wanyu to dinner. She had declined but offered a compromise: once he passed the test, she would treat him instead.
“There’s still 85 points to go. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Su replied, her tone playful but proud. She had warmed to Lu Liang over their time together, moving past the initial coldness of their interactions.
Lu Liang quipped, “I feel test was unusually hard. Did you secretly make it tougher?”
“Mr. Lu, you can question my teaching ability but not my integrity,” Su retorted, her confidence growing as she learned to spar back.
Lu Liang chuckled, “Eyes are the windows to the soul, but with glasses that thick, I can’t see yours.”
Su blushed, unsure how to respond. Her 540-degree lenses, with thick black frames, did little to flatter her otherwise beautiful face.
Before she could answer, Lu Liang’s phone rang.
“You take that. I’ll step out for a moment,” Su said, retreating to the bathroom with her head low, avoiding eye contact with his staff.
“Mr. Zhao, what’s the rush?” Lu Liang asked as he answered.
“Mr. Lu, a lot of people are asking about you,” Zhao Haisheng replied anxiously.
“You should check the Dragon and Tiger List,” Zhao suggested, struggling to explain.
Lu Liang pulled up the data and saw Punian Road No. 88 topping the list. “What’s the word from you guys?”
“Rest assured, Mr. Lu, we strictly protect client account information,” Zhao promised. While account specifics were secure, Lu Liang’s personal details were likely spreading rapidly.
Many had even asked Zhao for an introduction to Lu Liang.
“Turn them all down. Say I’m unavailable,” Lu Liang replied, lighting a cigarette as he pondered his next move.
The three-day Dragon and Tiger List had been an oversight, but it was inevitable that his name would surface sooner or later. The real concern now was Li and Wu—they would undoubtedly hate him.
With 1.28 billion yuan flowing out in three days, even a fool could predict a stampede when the market reopened. Stabilizing the situation would require exceptional skill and deep pockets.
“This isn’t going to end well for them,” Lu Liang thought, smirking. “But the stock market is a zero-sum game. If they don’t lose, how can I win?”