Chapter 127: Activating Futures, Zhang Long Goes Berserk and HSBC Is Stunned

Foreign exchange is not protected by law.

Although it is subject to some degree of regulation, it is essentially the same as spot trading within the country, and the offshore market is quite chaotic.

Some platforms are fraudulent, operating as betting pools where clients gamble against the house. In contrast, legitimate platforms are advertised as operating within the international market, where they earn revenue through transaction commissions and fees, making them relatively safe and reliable.

...

"Hmm? What's going on?"

At a certain futures brokerage, a staff member noticed that a long-dormant account had suddenly deposited 500,000. After a moment of shock, they were immediately overjoyed—a windfall had literally fallen from the sky.

While 500,000 is not a massive sum in the futures market, it is certainly not insignificant. With leverage, that becomes 5 million. Of course, the operational costs for many futures products are high; even with leverage, trading with 5 million is merely average, or even slightly below average. A "major client" usually needs a principal of at least ten million.

"Who should be assigned to supervise this account?"

Zhang Long’s account was in the company’s shared pool of inactive accounts and required activation before trading could officially begin. The employee who had originally handled Zhang Long’s account had already resigned, so it was up for grabs.

"Everyone, stop what you’re doing and look at the group chat."

A moment later, the director posted a screenshot of Zhang Long’s 500,000 deposit into the department group. "An inactive client has deposited 500,000. I’m not playing favorites: whoever gets their own client to make the first deposit of over 200,000 today gets this account assigned to them."

"Don't you all have clients confirmed for deposits? Get them to deposit now—it’s a double blessing."

Once these words were out, the employees were abuzz.

It was incredible that an inactive client had made a deposit just as the futures market opened in the morning. Since no one was actively managing the account, it was a bit embarrassing that it had deposited on its own while their own prospects—whom they hounded daily—hadn't. More importantly, it was a "buy one, get one" scenario. 500,000—that’s enough to conduct quite a bit of trading.

Just like that, the enthusiasm of the trading department’s account managers soared. They hurriedly called the clients they knew were planning to deposit soon, hoping for a double payoff. Meanwhile, the department director called Zhang Long to guide him through the activation process. As for who would eventually get the account, that would be decided shortly.

...

"Yes, okay, no rush."

At the Bund Dragon Residence, Zhang Long hung up the phone with the futures platform. He would go through the activation process shortly, and a guidance counselor would contact him later. There was no need to worry.

His predecessor had opened the futures account because a former colleague from Shengxin had moved to that platform and asked for help meeting their quota. It didn't cost anything to open, so he had just helped them out.

He had never activated it. He used to watch the market, but back then he didn't have his predictive abilities. Since he was essentially done with spot trading, he decided to activate the futures account and see if his foresight would work there based on his operational intelligence.

After all, his "Golden Finger" was still at an introductory level—Level 1—and the experience bar wasn't even half full. Just because he could see spot markets didn't mean he could see futures. The same applied to foreign exchange.

Foreign exchange was an international market; judging by the spatial attribute of his ability, it would be much harder to predict. It was like practicing martial arts—everything goes from easy to hard, from simple to complex.

"Buzz, buzz buzz~"

The phone continued to vibrate. Zhang Long ignored it; it was from the spot trading platforms, and they wouldn't let up. There were nine of them, and if each one called two or three times, that was twenty or thirty calls. He decided not to pick up; they could call all they wanted.

"Yeah! Beautiful!"

In a futures trading department, a joyous exclamation suddenly erupted. A client had made a 250,000 deposit, meeting the requirement. Zhang Long now belonged to her, and she couldn't help but be thrilled.

"Ni Meng? You’ve got to be kidding me."

Her colleague and friend nearby looked bitter. It had only been a few minutes, and it was already decided? So heartbreaking.

The short-haired, spirited girl, Ni Meng, pumped her little fist in the air and skipped off to find the boss to claim Zhang Long. 500,000—she was so, so happy.

"Oh? That fast?"

The boss was stunned. It had only been five or six minutes? He opened the backend, refreshed the deposit records, and sure enough, Ni Meng’s client had deposited 250,000. The result was set.

"Alright, I’ll assign Zhang Long to you in a bit. Remember to manage him well and don’t slack off."

...

"Mhm, okay, got it."

Ni Meng nodded like a bobblehead, then happily went to call Zhang Long. *I’ll be looking after your trades from now on, just follow my lead and we’ll make big money.*

Of course, whether they would actually make money remained to be seen.

...

"Buzz, buzz buzz~"

Shortly after hanging up with the futures platform’s manager, Zhang Long’s phone vibrated again. This time it wasn't a spot platform, but the "gold-medal analyst" from his stock brokerage, HSBC. He couldn't help but frown.

Ever since this guy had been wrong about the 'Weiyuan Longpeng' stocks, he had been silent for a few days, but soon after, he started showing off again. It was very annoying. He always called under the guise of teaching technical analysis, spewing a bunch of useless nonsense.

Zhang Long didn't deny that technical analysis had some effect, but analysis was just analysis. Whether one actually made money depended mostly on luck.

"Hello, Mr. Zhang..."

"Stop. Hold it right there."

As soon as the call connected, Zhang Long interrupted the gold-medal analyst before he could say much. "I’m not interested in technical stuff. I know enough of the basics myself. Unless it’s something urgent, don’t call me. There’s more to my life than just playing the stock market. Thanks."

He hung up without further ado. He didn't care how the analyst felt. If he wasn't trading or wanted to learn technical analysis, that would be fine—the constant calling at least showed diligence. But right now, it was just a nuisance.

He traded frequently enough; he didn't need tutorials. Just sit back and collect your commissions and bonuses—why keep flaunting your "gold-medal" status or technical expertise? He was completely clueless.

Of course, Zhang Long didn't know that if this analyst were truly wise, he wouldn't be fighting for clients right before the year-end. There are always people who only see things from their own perspective.

"Sir, please take this."

Before noon at the Housing Authority, Zhang Long arrived after finishing his stock trades. He picked up the property deed for his Bund two-bedroom apartment. It had been ready since last Thursday, but he hadn't come to get it.

Now that he didn't need to do spot trading and only had to manage stocks, life was much more relaxed. He picked up the document, and the task was done.

"Phew, I’m a homeowner."

Walking out of the Housing Authority, Zhang Long touched the red booklet in his hand and sighed. Only now, truly holding the deed, did he feel like a real homeowner. As for Liu Yurong’s commercial space, he would get that deed at the end of the month.

With two properties in hand, worth a total of 20 million, they would likely be worth at least 50 million in a few years. Even without considering the need to help Liu Yurong out of a jam, the two purchases were not a loss.

Thinking of this, Zhang Long’s heart stirred.

...

"Equity in exchange for rent?"

In the afternoon, Zhang Long met with Liu Yurong.

His futures account wouldn't be ready for official trading until tomorrow, and his stock operations were finished, so he had time to meet her and discuss a few things.

"Yes, exactly."

In the casual teahouse, Zhang Long looked at Liu Yurong’s elegant and delicate face. He shrugged and said, "If I’m not mistaken, even if your studio opens as planned after the New Year, it won't be profitable immediately, and you’ll still have other debt pressures to repay, right?"

Liu Yurong bit her red lip and said nothing.

"So, I won't invest in your studio until I see its actual future value. But, instead of paying rent, we can treat the rent as equity in the business."

"After the New Year, I’ll have someone evaluate your studio, and we’ll agree on a valuation that we both accept."

"How does that sound?"

Zhang Long finished speaking. After a moment of contemplation, Liu Yurong nodded. In truth, she had no other choice. She really wouldn't be able to afford the studio rent immediately after the New Year, and even if she started making money, she had other debts to pay. The hole she was in was still quite deep.

"Zhang Long, thank you."

"Trading equity for rent will indeed relieve a lot of my pressure. I’m very lucky to have met you. Thank you."

Zhang Long accepted her gratitude calmly. He didn't deny that he was being more helpful because she was a beautiful young woman, but that was as far as it went. There was nothing more to be done.

He had bought the house in full and helped with the rent via equity—that was enough. Anything more would be crossing the line, with impure motives. At the very least, he had no intention of bringing Liu Yurong into his bed; he knew when to stop and keep a boundary.

"Phew, good luck."

Zhang Long left. Liu Yurong watched his retreating figure, her heart warming. She hadn't had much confidence in restarting her studio after the New Year—the monthly rent alone was a significant pressure—but now that was solved.

She felt much more confident about her future life.

"I almost fell for him."

Suddenly, Liu Yurong smiled to herself.

Zhang Long’s appearance in her darkest hour had helped her out of a desperate situation and provided a turning point for her future. A sense of solid, reliable support filled her heart. If she weren't a mother and several years older than him, she might have truly fallen for him.

*Forget it, don't think about it. It only adds to the trouble.*

...

Zhang Long, who had left, did not know that he had almost made a desperate single mother fall for him—or perhaps she already had. If he did know? He would probably be embarrassed. A woman’s heart is too mysterious; helping with a few small favors and she’s already falling for him? How childish.

Of course, the prerequisite was that Zhang Long was handsome and wealthy. Otherwise, if he were a pauper, no one would be falling for him.

The night passed, and Tuesday dawned.

"Hmm? What the..."

In front of his computer, Zhang Long couldn't help but scratch his head. He had the operational intelligence for futures, but his "Golden Finger" wasn't reacting. Was the futures market too vast?

If he couldn't predict the domestic futures market, then international markets like foreign exchange would be even more hopeless. As for why he got reactions for stocks and spot trading, he didn't know the specifics, but there must be some underlying rules.

"Do I need Level 2?"

He thought about the experience bar that was half-filled. The CFA certificate probably wouldn't arrive until next month or after the New Year, and that should be enough to trigger an upgrade.

Focusing on stocks before the New Year would have to do. Although he didn't know how many levels his "Golden Finger" had, he assumed he would level up after completing the three levels of the CFA.

Having the certificate and the rating represented a qualification. Otherwise, someone without any financial credentials making a fortune in the stock, spot, and futures markets would be a bit suspicious.

From predicting stocks to predicting spot markets and real estate warnings, the "Golden Finger" definitely had more functions.

Calculating it, he had only been in this world for a little over four months—not even half a year. It was just the beginning.

The future was still long; he would just have to advance slowly.

"Buzz, buzz buzz~"

His phone vibrated—another call from a spot trading platform.

Zhang Long ignored it. He planned to get a new phone number for private use and keep them separate.

"Buzz, buzz buzz~"

The phone vibrated again. He assumed it was another spot platform, but when he glanced at the number, an irrepressible anger surged within him. He swiped to answer, "Are you annoying enough? Are you done yet? Are you sick or something?"

"I’m done playing. Close the account."

"Just wait, I’m liquidating everything."

The HSBC gold-medal analyst was completely bewildered. He just wanted to call and offer a risk control tip—why the sudden outburst? He hadn't even called that many times today, had he? Was it really necessary?

Unfortunately, this guy didn't know that Zhang Long’s phone was being bombarded by too many platforms all day, and he was already fed up.

He had been making good money on the spot platforms, so he had just tolerated those calls by ignoring them. But this guy at HSBC—he had already explicitly said not to call him about technical analysis, and yet the guy was still clueless and kept calling. Who else was he supposed to yell at?

"Hmm? Why did he liquidate?"

At the HSBC trading department, Qin Miaotong saw that the stocks Zhang Long had bought just yesterday were liquidated without a profit or loss.

Zhang Long rarely operated like that.

Qin Miaotong felt a murmur of doubt, and for some reason, an ominous premonition began to rise.