In a brownstone apartment in Queens, Michael sank into an IKEA sofa, with Saving Private Ryan playing on TV, but his thoughts drifted to the skyscrapers of Manhattan. The phone rang suddenly, and "SOPHIA" flashed on the screen - he swiped to answer the call, and said calmly: "Hello."
There was silence for two seconds on the other end of the phone, and Sophia's hurried voice came: "Michael, did you buy Blue Ocean Tech (BOT)?"
"Yes." He replied lightly.
"Sell it now!" Sophia's tone was as decisive as a Wall Street trader, "Muddy Waters just issued a short report, insiders are selling, you will be buried! Listen to me, it's not too late to cut your losses now!"
Michael's mouth curled up - it was this tone again, as if he was still the intern who needed her guidance. "How do you know?"
"Never mind how you know!" Sophia raised her voice, "Stock trading is not a game for you. You don't have talent. Don't risk your uncle's and aunt's house! Sell it now!"
"Talent?" He chuckled, "I don't need you to evaluate my investment. How the money is used has nothing to do with you."
"Michael!" Sophia was irritated, "I'm doing this for your own good! That's Robert and Mary's life savings!"
"For my own good?" He interrupted her, "We're divorced. Don't worry about my business." Then he hung up the phone.
Sophia held the Vertu phone in her hand and was stunned when she heard the busy tone - he actually hung up? And blocked her? The man who had queued for three hours to buy Ladurée macarons on her birthday, now spoke to her in this tone? She called again, only to hear a cold prompt tone: "The user you dialed is unavailable..."
"Fine." Sophia threw her phone on the Hermès Kelly bag and stared at the K-line chart of BOT on the Bloomberg terminal - the green negative line spread, just like the image of Michael in her mind at the moment.
...
Michael threw his phone aside and walked to the restaurant. Mary brought out the roast chicken: "Michael, are you still looking at stocks?"
Robert wiped the Husky tools and frowned: "I heard that it fell again yesterday?"
"Normal fluctuations," Michael scooped a spoonful of corn soup, "The show will be tomorrow." He didn't explain much, waiting for the results to speak more weight.
The next morning, Michael sat in front of the iMac, staring at the pre-market data of BOT. At 9:15, the electronic trading began bidding, and the pre-opening price of BOT jumped 8% - in sync with the "quantum algorithm breakthrough" news pushed by the system.
At 9:30, the NYSE opening bell rang, and BOT's stock price soared directly to $11.02, a 10% increase - although there is no daily limit on US stocks, the huge buy orders pinned the stock price to a high level, and the trading volume exceeded 5 million shares.
[Total account assets: $2,200,000.00]
Michael stood up suddenly, grabbed his phone and dialed Jason's number: "Jay, can I go to your house for a drink tonight?"
The background sound of quarreling came from the other end of the phone: "Michael? I'm on a day off today..."
"Go directly to your house, ask Amanda not to prepare the dishes, I'll bring the cooked food."
"Don't..." Jason hesitated, "Okay, wait for you."
In the afternoon, Michael rang Jason's doorbell with Whole Foods grilled ribs and six cans of Budweiser. Amanda's roar came from inside the door: "Jason! 300,000! That's the down payment we saved for five years! You actually lent it to Michael to invest in stocks?!"
"Amanda, keep your voice down... Michael is not that kind of person..."
"If he knew how to make money, would he be a gigolo in Sophia's house for five years? The stock market is a money-eating machine! How can we pay the mortgage if we lose money? How can we pay for our daughter's ballet tuition?!"
Michael took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. Jason's face flushed when he opened the door, and Amanda stood behind him with her arms folded, her eyes red and swollen.
"Michael, you..." Jason rubbed his hands awkwardly.
Michael raised the deli bag and smiled at Amanda: "Amanda, I heard you're off today."
Amanda said nothing with a cold face. Michael handed the things to Jason and turned to Amanda: "I know what you are worried about. Don't worry, Jason won't lose money if he borrows money from me."
Amanda sneered: "No loss? Michael, I know you are hurt by the divorce, but don't take risks with our money! Can you play the stock market?"
"It has risen." Michael turned on his mobile phone and called up the Morgan Stanley trading interface - BOT's stock price was $11.02, an increase of 10%, and the total assets of the account were $2.2 million.
Jason and Amanda's eyes were locked on the screen at the same time. Amanda's jaw almost dropped to the ground. Jason snatched the phone fiercely: "My God! It increased by 200,000 in one day?!"
Michael took the phone back and patted Jason on the shoulder: "So, we can open a bottle of champagne tonight to celebrate."
Amanda stared at the Casio watch on his wrist, then looked at the numbers on the screen, and suddenly remembered something: "Wait, the stock you mentioned... is it Blue Ocean Tech? I saw the news on CNBC this morning, saying that they have a breakthrough in quantum algorithms!"
Michael raised his eyebrows - it seems that Sophia's call was not groundless, but she didn't know that the "negative news" was just a wash method of the institution. He didn't explain, but just smiled at Amanda: "So, the money will be returned to you soon, and you can get more interest."
Jason rubbed his hands excitedly: "Michael, you are simply a stock god!"
Amanda's attitude changed 180 degrees, and she quickly took the cooked food: "Come in and sit down! I'll go fry two steaks! Jason, why don't you open a bottle of red wine!"
Michael walked into the living room and looked at the ballet photo of Jason's daughter on the wall. Suddenly, he remembered the next message pushed by the system: "BOT will release patent details tomorrow, and the stock price is expected to rise another 10%." He picked up the beer handed by Jason and gently clinked it against the sunset in Queens outside the window - this is just the beginning. After seven days, he will let everyone know how the despised "soft rice man" set off a storm on Wall Street. At this moment, Sophia was in the gym on the Upper East Side, venting her anger with a Peloton bike, and her assistant Lily's message was lying on her mobile phone: "Mr. Chen, Michael's stock price has reached the daily limit today, with a market value of 2.2 million."