Chapter 10: Throwing Down $3 Million, Taking a Full Position in Yorkpoint Technologies

The Shangri-La Hotel. The Presidential Suite. The instant River Lyson opened the door, he knew the money had been well spent. The 3,000-square-foot suite was lined with handwoven Persian carpets. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched from the ceiling to the floor, with the entire nightscape of Newhaven Bay spread outside like a vast painting. The private butler was a man in his early fifties named Zhou. Dressed in a tailcoat and white gloves, he handled everything without needing River to ask, from arranging the luggage to adjusting the bathtub's water temperature. "Mr. Lyson, the refrigerator has been stocked with Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee beans for black coffee. If you require any service, at any hour, simply use the private line beside the bed." "Thank you." River smiled and nodded. After the butler left, he walked over to the window and looked down at Newhaven's glowing night. Thousands of windows shone below. The red lights atop construction cranes blinked on and off, like the pulse of the city. In his previous life, when he came to Newhaven, he had stayed in an urban village, eight people packed into one room with bunk beds. The exhaust pipes of restaurant hoods filled the view outside his window. In the middle of the night, he could hear the shouting and cursing from the mahjong table next door. The carpet beneath his feet cost more than the monthly rent for that cramped apartment. He stood there for a long while. Then he drew the curtains, took a shower, and went to bed. He slept without a dream. The next morning. Nine-thirty. Fairfield District, Newhaven. Northstrong Road. Guosen Securities Newhaven Branch. The Securities Branch in the year 2000 looked little different from a wet market. The lobby was packed with people. Red and green numbers flickered across the electronic screens. Cigarette smoke, sweat, and the scent of tea mingled in the air, while the constant hum of voices sounded like a pot at full boil. When River pushed through the door, the young receptionist at the front desk was cracking sunflower seeds. "Account opening is at Window Three. Please line up there." She did not even raise her head. River swept his gaze across the lobby. Several middle-aged men sat in the corner, staring at the screens. Some tapped away at calculators. Others frowned at candlestick charts. One elderly man wore reading glasses and kept circling things in a newspaper with a pencil. They were all retail investors. "I want to open a high-value account." Only then did the receptionist look up. Her eyes lingered on River for two seconds, taking in his black T-shirt, casual pants, and youthful face. "The minimum funding requirement for a high-value account is $50,000." Her tone carried a subtle note of doubt, as if she were thinking, Young man, did you come to the wrong place? River's gaze had already moved past her to the offices beyond. "Please get your manager." "Our manager is very busy..." "I'm opening the account with $3 million. The funds will arrive today. Thank you." River's voice was not loud, but the receptionist's hand stopped halfway through cracking a seed. Her mouth fell slightly open, the shell still caught between her lips. Three seconds later, the door to the office area opened. The person who stepped out was not the manager. It was a woman. She wore a gray skirt suit with a sharp, precise cut. Her hair was pinned up, revealing a slender neck with clean, graceful lines. Her black heels struck the marble floor in a steady rhythm. Click, click, click. Her features were refined without being flashy. The most striking part of her face was a pair of long, slightly upturned eyes that gave her a naturally shrewd air. She was the VIP Trading Room Account Manager, Autumn Lyson. "Hello. I'm the VIP Trading Room Account Manager." She stopped in front of River and extended her hand, her voice professional and courteous. "Are you here to open an account?" "Yes. $3 million. The funds will arrive today." Autumn's expression barely changed. But when she withdrew her hand, her fingertips curled ever so slightly. Three million dollars. Three million dollars in the year 2000. She had seen wealthy clients before. Customers with hundreds of thousands were not unusual, and clients with millions occasionally appeared. Without exception, however, they were either business owners in their forties or fifties, or veteran stock investors with graying hair. But the young man standing before her was in his early twenties. His expression was so calm that he did not look like he had come to open an account. He looked as if he had stopped by to pick up a package. "This way, please. I'll take you to the VIP room to complete the paperwork." Autumn turned and led the way. Her heels struck the floor half a beat faster than before. In the lobby, several middle-aged stock investors followed them with their eyes. A fat man wearing a gold chain nudged the person beside him and lowered his voice. "Who is that kid? He went straight into the VIP room." "No idea. He looks pretty young." "Young? He can get into the VIP room at that age? Then he has to have at least..." Before he could finish, the frosted-glass door to the VIP room had already closed. The paperwork went quickly. Autumn stayed with River from beginning to end, personally overseeing every step: identity verification, risk assessment, and linking the trading account to the bank account. As they waited for the bank to confirm the transfer, someone knocked on the door. The Branch General Manager stepped inside. His surname was Farrell. He was in his forties, wore a crisp white shirt, and carried a box of tea. "Mr. Lyson, it's an honor to meet you." Manager Farrell greeted him with the enthusiasm of a man welcoming a close relative. He clasped River's hand in both of his and shook it vigorously. "If I had known you were coming, I should have gone out to meet you personally." Five minutes earlier, the man had been sitting in his office with his feet propped up while he read the newspaper. The instant the deposit notification appeared on Autumn's screen, his dress shoes had already begun clicking down the hallway. "This is this year's First-Flush Dragon Well. I can't bear to drink it myself." Manager Farrell placed the tea on the table, then personally poured a cup and handed it over. "Please take a look at our VIP trading room. If anything displeases you, tell me at once and I'll have it changed." River accepted the cup but did not drink. He set it on the table and offered a polite smile. "Manager Farrell, once the paperwork is finished, I'd like to place an order directly." "Of course, of course. Make yourself at home. Autumn..." Manager Farrell turned to Autumn. "Meet Mr. Lyson's every need immediately. I'll be on standby in my office." Manager Farrell left. Silence settled over the VIP room once more. The air conditioner blew a steady chill, and the green tea on the table released a faint fragrance. Autumn sat beside River and opened the trading terminal. "Mr. Lyson, which sector would you like to look at? As for the broader market..." "You don't need to look at the broader market." River cut her off. "Check one stock for me. Yorkpoint Technologies." Autumn's fingers paused above the keyboard. "Yorkpoint Technologies?" She frowned. "That stock has been extremely volatile lately. There are clear signs of a market manipulator exercising market control, and many people in the market think the risk..." "Buy $3 million. Full position." The VIP room fell silent. Even the air conditioner's hum seemed unnaturally loud. Autumn turned to look at River. The professional alertness in those sharp, intelligent eyes flared to life. "Mr. Lyson, I have to warn you." Her tone grew serious, and she lowered her voice slightly. "Putting a full position into a single stock gives you far too much position size. Even if this stock truly has potential, building a position in stages and controlling your risk is the proper approach..." "I know." River watched the numbers flickering across the screen. Confidence and certainty filled his eyes. Yorkpoint Technologies. The stock's trajectory from his previous life was etched into his mind with perfect clarity. From its current price to the end of July, its gain would exceed three hundred percent. This was not a guess, an analysis, or a gamble. It was an open-book exam. "Full position. Buy at the current price." Four words. Autumn stared at him for a full three seconds. There was no gambler's feverish excitement on the young man's face. No beginner's anxiety. Not even the slightest hesitation. He looked as if he were checking out at a supermarket, scanning an item and walking away. "...All right." She turned back to the computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard. A confirmation window appeared. Buy. Yorkpoint Technologies. $3 million. Full position. Autumn clicked the confirmation button. Her fingertips felt cold. The notification sounded. Beep. Leaning back in his chair, River picked up the cup of Dragon Well Tea that he had left untouched and took a sip. "Not bad." Autumn's hand tightened around the mouse until her knuckles turned faintly white. In her three years in the business, she had seen plenty of clients place orders as casually as if they were buying cabbage at a market. But never had anyone actually used that tone while throwing $3 million into a single stock. She said nothing more. Instead, she turned to the screen and stared at the completed trade. Slowly, her fingers loosened around the mouse. Outside the VIP room, the electronic screen in the lobby showed Yorkpoint Technologies' trading volume suddenly jump a notch. Several retail investors glanced up, then lowered their heads and continued tapping at their calculators. No one noticed the bullish candlestick formed on a volume surge. Even fewer people knew that this was the beginning of god-tier trading operations in Newhaven.