Chapter 138: This Move is Called

Words : 1683 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

The next morning, Lu Liang headed to State Street Bank. "Ah~ my dear Lu~" Hilt greeted him with a beaming smile, warmer even than to his own father, because he knew another performance bonus was in store. Last time, he had earned nearly two million US dollars in interest, which earned him high praise and a handsome bonus. Tesla's stock price had also rebounded, making it a win-win situation, and Lu Liang had become one of their top-tier clients. State Street's top-tier clients were limited to 200 globally, including people like Buffett, Soros, and Sun Zhengyi. Within China, there were only 18, 12 of whom were from Xiangjiang, making Lu Liang one of the only six from Mainland China. "It really is an honor for me," Lu Liang said with a smile, though he didn't pay it much mind. Being few in number didn't necessarily equate to nobility, given the nature of State Street Bank as an international venture capital bank. Their clients were fund giants or international hot money, so there were naturally fewer in China. With a forced smile, Hilt responded, "It's our honor, we're very privileged to have such a distinguished client." Lu Liang chuckled as the two exchanged mutual flatteries; he then stated his purpose of wanting to finance short selling and borrow British Pounds. Hilt, ever the professional, didn't ask why but directly discussed the usage fees for various leveraging options. Lu Liang pondered for a moment before deciding to use a fifty-times leverage with 24 million US dollars as collateral. That 24 million in trading funds, expanded by fifty times, became 1.2 billion US dollars, which was then converted into 828 million British Pounds. Among the four major currencies, British Pounds were quite valuable, with an exchange rate of 1 to 9.28 with the RMB and 0.69 with the US dollar. Approaching noon, Lu Liang returned to his company and instructed the traders to rest until two o'clock in the afternoon and then return. Trading foreign exchange markets of a country necessitated adjusting to their time zones; unlike with Japan's mere one-hour difference, Beijing had a seven-hour difference with London. Seven in the morning, London time, Corresponded to two in the afternoon, Beijing time. Forex trading typically starts at nine in the morning, so he wanted them to arrive two hours early to prepare. "It doesn't seem good always being passively scolded." As Lu Liang stroked his chin and pondered, he had been constantly attacked by the American media and had never struck back. He suddenly felt an urge to trap someone—once the election news broke, the forex market would spike, and none of those who went long would escape. Seized by a sudden impulse, Lu Liang waved Wen Chao over: "Little Wen, what's the international equivalent of Weibo called?" After a thought, Wen Chao said, "It should be Twitter; Facebook and Instagram are more like old-time blogs mixed with WeChat." "Then help me apply for one." Soon, Lu Luang got his Twitter handle, though it was pitifully undersubscribed, still in the single digits. Suddenly, he thought of Little Wang, who had studied abroad, and immediately called him: "Do you have Twitter, and how many followers do you have?" "A few hundred thousand," said Little Wang, who had been more active during his studies abroad but played less since returning to China. "Then help me divert some traffic." Lu Liang sent Little Wang a screenshot of his Twitter handle to help verify his identity. Little Wang still had some influence; after updating a status, Lu Liang's Twitter followers skyrocketed into the thousands. In that instant, he appreciated the benefits of censorship on Weibo, where he had to be more reserved; just a slightly risqué photo book would get censored. But on Twitter, it was a free-for-all, opening just one video could spring up a torrent of debauchery. Wen Chao looked perplexed but maintained his composure: "Mr. Lu, I'll leave you for now." "Hold on, is this normal?" Lu Liang turned his phone screen towards him, displaying a blurry, writhing biscuit. "Uh~ Mr. Lu, it's actually quite normal because Twitter is also known as 'Little Yellow Retreating.'" "Alright then, go ahead, and call me if you need anything." Lu Liang studied for a while, roughly figuring out how to use it—it really was quite similar to Weibo. Consequently, at four in the afternoon on the 13th, London time at nine in the morning, just over an hour before the elections began. Lu Liang retweeted the election news, posting his first update: "David Cameron will be re-elected, and the British-American exchange rate will soon plummet." The majority of those following Lu Liang were from China, and considering the enormity of the British-American exchange rate market with its trillions in transaction volume, he didn't mind helping his followers make big money. In the international market, there was no concept of manipulation as he, no matter how powerful, couldn't control the election of a country. Just like Soros, who always boasted before shorting, Lu Liang felt this strategy could be learned. The premise was that they would believe him, to short sell against the trend in a rising overall market, betting on a consecutive term. As soon as the news was released, immediately there came a reply from a Xiangjiang netizen, "Ding Xie Bro, is it real?" "Ding Xie?" Lu Liang was confused, but also took the opportunity to issue a trade order to short sell British Pounds. He just disclosed that he was short selling British Pounds but did not reveal his positions or the funds employed. Suddenly, Little Wang called, "Damn, what are you playing at?" Lu Liang wanted him to attract traffic, which was weird in itself, so he had been keeping an eye on it. "Just playing a fun game." Lu Liang said with a smile, using the tactic of 'luring the tiger out of the mountain'. If the Wall Street institutions really hated him that much, they should come and blow up his position. But by then, it would be uncertain who would blow up whom. "Will David Cameron really be reelected? Will the British-US exchange rate really plummet?" Wang Xiaocong was excited, he had complete faith in Lu Liang and also wanted to make some extra money to support his family. Old Wang had given him five small targets, which were given intermittently, most of which he had invested in private equity. He was so broke recently he nearly sold his car, since a First Rich's son must maintain his status, and he couldn't cut back on expenses. Lu Liang said, "Anyway, it's a choice between three, why not bet on it? Besides, it's not an upset since it's a reelection." He suddenly asked again, "Do you know how to play?" "Damn it, who are you looking down on?" Little Wang felt indignant and hung up the phone. He really didn't understand the rules of foreign exchange trading, but he could pay someone, find a trader for a few tens of thousands. With the rest of the millions, converting into over four hundred thousand US dollars, using a leverage of one hundred times, he went all in to short sell British Pounds. At the same time, a Welfare Girl named Qingyin also saw Lu Liang's tweet. Weibo was just a customer acquisition channel, Twitter was the main base, so she followed Lu Liang immediately. She muttered to herself, "Mr. Lu, please don't screw this up, if I lose money again, I really have to sell myself." Last time following Lu Liang on shorting Tesla resulted in her $200,000 turning into $70,000. Luckily, following Lu Liang's advice, she gritted her teeth, cut her losses, and only lost over $150,000. If she had continued to resist, the $200,000 would probably have ended up like below, with nothing left. This time, scraping together, she once again accumulated $50,000, ready to enter the British-American foreign exchange with a leverage of two hundred times. And she decided, if she were blown up this time, she would descend into infamy, becoming Lu Liang's hater. If caught, she would blame Lu Liang. After all, it was $200,000, just a little more, and she could buy a house in Hang City, achieving her dream of retiring by 25. Before the vote count, the last thirty minutes. The British-American exchange rate, at the moment Lu Liang updated his status, fell by 65 points but immediately recovered to 1.5012. Lu Liang asked, "Has all the stock been sold off?" Zhang Jing nodded and said, "The market trades are extremely active, we have gradually sold off $700 million." From the $828 million stock, they directly sold $700 million, leaving only $128 million as backup funds, a single basis point's fluctuation amounted to 46,600 British Pounds, they could only tolerate a rise of 245 points. That is, if the British-American exchange rate rose to 1.5257 points, they would trigger a forced closeout. "Are there any big fishes entering the market?" Lu Liang stroked his chin, the British-American exchange market being a market worth hundreds of trillions of US dollars, related to a nation's wealth. With daily transactions worth tens of trillions, it was impossible to tell who was the small fish and who was the big fish without an opposing stance. "Mr. Lu!" Sun Yutao's eyes widened as he suddenly shouted. In the last ten minutes of the vote count, the foreign exchange market suddenly surged, rising by 105 points. It seemed as if they were deliberately creating a special market situation, as if they already knew the results of the vote count. Sёarᴄh the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Sell off, start with $30 million, push the price down, don't let the bulls get their way," Lu Liang remained calm, issuing commands.

Chapter 138: This Move is Called

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