Chapter 91: Zhang Long—Abundant and Enduring

Fifty contracts, fifty kilograms, long positions.

Zhang Long did not immediately go short. There was still plenty of room in the plunge to make a fortune, but he could first take a losing trade.

Huayin’s advice to look bullish was sound enough. As long as the recent rebound level did not break, going long was the only sensible move. But if it did break, many people would be left without a clue.

Zhang Long had a clue: once the level broke, he would turn around and chase the drop.

...

"Whoa, is he really getting addicted to this?"

"Incredible. He’s not even stopping."

Watching Zhang Long enter another fifty-lot long, the Huayin trading floor erupted again. He had just closed out a profitable short, and now he was back in—shouldn’t he be waiting a little longer?

Buying the rebound, shorting the pullback—Zhang Long’s trading volume was as if he were swiping a card for fun. Too enviable.

Wang Jing said nothing. Going long on a bullish setup was fine; as long as the recent rebound level did not break...?

"Damn, it’s falling, it’s falling..."

A colleague suddenly cried out. Zhang Long had just bought in not long ago, and in a flash it had dropped more than a dozen points, already reaching the previous rebound high. If it held, things would still be all right; if it couldn’t hold, then it was troublesome. The next support was around 6240 from last night, and the bias was still bullish.

As long as there was nearby price support, the inclination was definitely to keep leaning long. After all, shorting without a breakdown never felt safe.

"Damn, it fell again."

"The U.S. session is about to open. Not good."

Spot prices were unpredictable. With two nearby support levels, many were buying rebounds. If this really broke down into a sharp plunge, a great many could be harvested.

Besides, domestic investors usually leaned long. The more it fell, the more they wanted to bottom-fish and catch the rebound.

And so it became a matter of falling all the way, losing all the way. That was no different from refusing to set a stop-loss and stubbornly holding the position—either way, it meant heavy losses.

"Damn it, it’s about to break."

"It’s over, it’s over, it’s over..."

Silver spot suddenly fell again. The three support levels at 6300, 6275, and 6240 were all broken just one minute before the U.S. market opened.

Huayin had many clients at those levels either going long or adding longs, a whole sea of long positions.

Were there shorts? Yes, but not many.

"Huh? Damn, impressive!"

"Brother Long turned and went short!"

...

Huayin did not constantly send every client’s trades into the group for the trainers to review, just so they could know whether clients were holding positions or making or losing money.

The moment price broke below 6275, Zhang Long had already reversed and shorted directly, fifty lots.

Then, when it continued down to 6240 and his floating profit plus available cash allowed it, he added ten more lots.

Current position: sixty short contracts.

"So decisive."

"He had a fifty-lot long and didn’t stop out. He took a thirty-point loss and flipped short right away. Savage."

"What’s even more savage is that when his available funds plus floating profit just barely allowed another ten lots, he went in immediately. If the drop had stalled and reversed, the loss would have been huge."

"You think Brother Long is some fool? Even if these sixty short contracts lose on a countertrend rebound, he’s still in profit."

"His principal was one million. He didn’t lose."

Not to mention that Zhang Long’s one-million principal wouldn’t be wiped out in the short term. Even if this short trade were stopped out after several dozen points, he would still have more than five hundred thousand in net profit left. He could charge after rallies or smash into declines as he pleased, with no pressure at all.

Zhang Long had plenty of winning trades, but just as many losing ones. The only difference was that he admitted defeat on losses, while on winners he liked to add to the position and magnify the gains.

Bold enough to chase, bold enough to add—he deserved to make a fortune.

"Hiss—damn it! It broke."

"My goodness, Sister Feng, it’s over."

Someone suddenly gasped. Silver spot price plunged straight below the 6200 level.

That meant anyone who had been holding through the decline without exiting, or anyone who had kept buying the dip all the way down, was now losing again and again—and about to be wiped out.

And remember, yesterday, Monday’s violent plunge and rebound had already blown out a wave of accounts. Today they had barely managed to make any money before it happened again.

Those without funds would die on the spot.

Spot trading was bizarre and brutal; whether rising or falling, it changed without warning. No matter whether one was losing or winning, one had to stay rational and get in and out quickly. That was the only way to survive.

Any hesitation or unwillingness to let go meant missing either the opportunity or the chance to flee in time, leaving one trapped in crushing losses.

The risk was far higher than in the stock market.

...

"All right, enough."

In an apartment on the Bund, Zhang Long let out a quiet breath. After price broke below 6200, he added another five short contracts at 6180, and there was no need to add more after that.

If he wanted to add another five, price would need to fall to 6130, so that he would have a fifty-point profit to work with.

Although he could have added one contract at a time as floating profit accumulated, forget it. There was not much to be made that way.

His foresight ended around 6100. Stop there.

In this round of breakdown and plunge, the fifty-lot short opened at 6270 could net a gain of 150 points, or 375,000 yuan. The ten-lot short at 6240 could net 120 points, or 60,000 yuan. The final five-lot short at 6180 could net 60 points, or 15,000 yuan.

Total from the three short trades: 450,000 yuan.

Before the plunge, he had deliberately bought fifty long contracts and taken a thirty-point loss after costs—about 75,000 yuan.

2.015 million minus 75,000, leaving 1.94 million.

Add the 450,000 yuan net profit from the three shorts to the 1.94 million locked in by the plunge, and the total became 2.39 million yuan.

"Mm, still a little short."

Zhang Long scratched his head. Today’s target was 2.5 million. In two days he had already netted 1.5 million, and he still had a third use of foresight left, so it could be done.

When the price fell to around 6100 and he closed all the shorts, he would catch the rebound and buy the rise for one more gamble.

If he guessed right, excellent. If not, no matter—his final foresight would bring everything back.

"This round buried quite a few people..."

As his thoughts drifted, a faint idea passed through Zhang Long’s mind. Yesterday and today, silver spot had used three rebounds to create three fairly decent support levels. Normally, buying near support to catch a rebound would have been perfectly reasonable.

But those three flimsy supports lured many clients into going long. In the end, today’s U.S. session smashed them all in a straight plunge, swallowing everything in its path. Adding to positions and averaging down longs simply had no chance.

This kind of brutal drop was not even a straight, uninterrupted selloff. There were several pauses along the way.

If you added long positions or tried to catch a rebound during those pauses, it would bury you without mercy.

Without a golden finger, wanting to make money? Dream on.

...

"Brother Long did how many contracts today?"

"Two hundred and twenty-five. I’m honestly jealous of Sister Jing."

A colleague answered at once. People like that usually had poor performance; they were always fixated on how many trades other people’s clients were making, how much commission they were earning, and so on. Wang Jing said nothing, quietly continuing to call clients to reassure them, staying busy.

Most people in Huayin’s trading department were busy comforting clients. Time slowly crept toward ten-thirty, almost the end of the workday, but no one truly left.

Aside from a few clients who had set stop losses and exited without continuing to go long, most were completely ruined.

After two days of repeated heavy losses, even the occasional correct trade that earned back a little was useless. Miserable.

At least half of the active daily traders had nearly zeroed out their accounts, and they explicitly said they had no money left and were done playing—stop calling them. It was too insane.

The stock market also had losses, but losses there came slowly, and there was still hope that a future bull market would lift prices back up.

Not here. In spot trading, once the margin on a position fell below the 50 percent warning line, it was forcibly liquidated. There was no holding on.

Unless you kept pouring money into the account so that margin never fell to 50 percent and triggered liquidation, but when facing losses from stubbornly holding a position, how could you possibly keep up? It was unbearable.

"Honestly, I really admire Brother Long."

"Decisive, rational, impressive."

After soothing another client, Wang Jing finally exhaled in relief. Seeing the group still discussing Zhang Long’s trading operations, she silently sighed. Of all the accounts in her hands, aside from Zhang Long and two or three others, everyone else was dead.

These past two days had been a disaster. They had lost so badly they were dazed.

Though the commissions from trading volume these two days had indeed been substantial, only by staying alive could they create more.

No matter how fierce Zhang Long traded alone, if he ran into a major loss one day, he would still be finished. It was not a long-term solution.

A large number of clients, and clients who stayed for the long haul—that was the true way.

"Ding, ding ding~"

Suddenly, the Q chat icon flashed.

Wang Jing came back to herself and clicked to look. It was a message from Zhang Long: he had fully closed the profitable position around 6100, and then bought fifty-five lots long, telling her to keep an eye on the market tonight.

Oh heavens, he still wants to trade?

A cry went up in Wang Jing’s heart, both blissful and bitter. He had been operating all day—wasn’t he tired at all?

He’s addicted to making money, isn’t he? Fine, all right. Tonight I’ll give it my all and make sure he’s looked after properly.

A big volume and long stamina—this servant obeys.