Becoming the King of Bottom Fishing After Going All-In on A-Shares

September 29th, Monday, 9:20 AM.

In Room 608 of the Renmin University Cultural and Technological Park, the air was thick with an almost scorching restlessness.

Dozens of people were crammed into this room, which was less than 60 square meters, and the corridor was also full.

Everyone was staring at the projection screen on the wall, which was Zhang Yixing's Hong Kong stock real-time market information system that he had set up overnight.

In the lower right corner of the screen, BYD's (1211.HK) stock code flashed quietly, waiting for the opening bell at 9:30.

Zhang Yixing sat in front of the computer, his fingers hovering above the keyboard, his palms sweaty.

Yang Cheng stood by the window, arms crossed, expressionless.

Xia Yaozong leaned against the door frame, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Zhou Xingbang stood at the back of the crowd, his hands behind his back, his expression carrying a kind of expectation that he was trying hard to suppress.

A slight commotion arose at the entrance, and someone stepped aside to make way.

When Wen Zhiyu walked in, the room was quiet for a moment.

She was wearing a simple white shirt, her hair was tied in a ponytail, and her face was expressionless.

But everyone present recognized her; she was a legendary senior from the Finance Department of Renmin University, a junior who consistently ranked first in GPA, and had published a paper in Financial Research last year. She was one of Zhou Xingbang's most outstanding students.

Everyone knew that her mother was seriously ill, and the medical expenses alone amounted to thousands of yuan every month. The surgery was said to cost 30 yuan.

She studied hard to earn scholarships and worked three jobs in her spare time, but even with all the money she could scrape together, she could barely make ends meet and couldn't afford the surgery.

Last week, she entrusted Lu Chenzhou with managing her mother's life-saving money.

This courage and vision deserve everyone's respect.

She stood at the doorway, her gaze sweeping over the crowded room before finally settling on Lu Chenzhou's back.

She didn't say anything, but walked to a corner, stood against the wall, and watched quietly.

Her fingers clenched, not out of nervousness, but something she couldn't quite explain.

It's like entrusting a part of your fate to someone else, and then standing here, waiting to see the outcome.

At 9:25, the opening auction began.

The numbers on the screen started jumping.

15.80, 15.90, 16.00, ...

HK$16.00.

It doubled in value immediately upon opening.

The silence was torn open, and then shattered completely.

"It flipped! It really flipped!" someone shouted, their voice cracking.

"From 8 to 16 yuan, that's doubling your investment. Tenfold leverage means tenfold profit, turning 1500 million into 3000 million!"

"Lu Shen is awesome! With Buffett's backing, this is a sure thing!"

"It's only just opened, it'll keep going up, maybe to HK$20? HK$30? There are no daily price limits in Hong Kong stocks, it's possible for it to triple in a day."

Cheers erupted in the room like dynamite.

Some people jumped up excitedly, some clenched their fists and roared, and some hugged the people next to them and laughed wildly.

Several of the students who invested have already started doing the math.

"I invested 500, and with ten times leverage, that's a principal of 5000. If it doubles, it's 1."

The entire floor was shaking. Those who couldn't squeeze in through the corridor heard the cheers from inside and joined in the shouting.

The ceiling of room 608 was almost blown off.

Wen Zhiyu stood in the corner, not cheering, her fingers clenched even tighter.

She invested 30,000.

If it doubles, that's 6. We're still 24 short. Almost there, almost there.

She silently calculated the number, her heart pounding, but her face remained expressionless.

She just watched Lu Chenzhou's back as he sat motionless in front of the computer.

Her brow furrowed slightly.

Because he was too quiet.

Amidst everyone's revelry, he stood like an isolated island.

Lu Chenzhou's gaze fell on the string of numbers on the screen.

16.00, 16.00, 16.00 – Buy 1, Buy 2, Buy 3, all were huge orders of hundreds of thousands of lots, the funds rushing in like madmen.

But he noticed something else: the depth of the sell orders was quietly increasing, and those large orders were not something retail investors could place.

He glanced at it for a second.

Then he reached out and tapped twice on the keyboard.

First step: Clearance sale.

All 1875000 shares were sold off at an average price of HK$16.00.

The order confirmation flashed briefly.

The cheers abruptly stopped, as if someone had grabbed their throat.

The second move was to short sell.

The trading interface has switched to the short selling window.

But this time, it wasn't a million shares.

Lu Chenzhou's fingers flew across the keyboard, typing in a number that took everyone's breath away—

Quantity: 1,875,000 shares.

Price: HK$16.00.

He converted all the funds he had just used to clear out his long positions—187.5 million shares, representing a long position of HK$1500 million—into short positions.

It wasn't a trial with a million shares, nor was it hesitation with half a position; it was a full position.

187.5 million shares, with a principal of HK$3000 million.

The order confirmation flashed again.

The time between him clearing out his long positions and going all-in on shorting was less than five seconds.

The room erupted in chaos. But not with cheers; it was with terror.

"What?! He's shorting?"

"Short at 16? Shorting right after selling?"

"Not one million... it's 1,875,000 shares! Shorting with all my capital!!"

"Is he crazy? Buffett invested, and he went all in shorting at $16?"

Zhang Yixing suddenly leaned closer to the screen, and after seeing the two lines of commission records clearly, he jumped up as if he had been electrocuted.

His face changed three colors in just three seconds, from red to white, and from white to blue.

"Chen Zhou, you went all in on shorting at 16?" His voice was so shrill that even he didn't recognize it. "You went short right after selling? At the same price? With all your funds?"

Yang Cheng strode over from the window, glanced down at the screen, and frowned deeply.

His fingers clenched tightly on the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he just took a deep breath and said nothing.

Because he knew that Lu Chenzhou never made any decision impulsively.

But he didn't understand, he didn't understand at all.

Xia Yaozong dropped the cigarette from his mouth onto the ground.

He stared at the screen for three seconds, then slowly picked up the cigarette and put it back in his mouth.

He didn't light it; he just bit the filter, as if he were chewing on something to process the news.

"187.5 million shares shorted..." he muttered to himself, his voice almost inaudible. "3000 million in notional capital, is he treating today as his last battle?"

Zhou Xingbang squeezed his way from the back of the crowd to the front. His expression was strange.

It wasn't anger, but a mixture of shock, confusion, and some indescribable emotion.

He walked quickly to Lu Chenzhou's side, bent down and stared at the empty order record on the screen for a full five seconds.

"Sinking Boat." His voice was low, but every word carried weight. "You were right to clear out your long positions at 16. I admit you were right."

But now, at the same price level, are you going all-in on shorting?

He straightened up and looked into Lu Chenzhou's eyes: "You just closed your long position, and then immediately put all your funds into shorting. What does that mean?"

This means that you think the stock price at 16 yuan has changed from "sell" to "short".

And you're not testing, you're betting everything.

His voice rose slightly: "Tell me, what kind of logic is this? How dare you?"