Chapter 3: When the Map Ends, the Dagger Reveals Itself

On the night of the 8th, unsettling news began to spread across the internet like a plague, stirring widespread unease.

It started with investors on Hong Kong Island reporting instantaneous losses of two million yuan, followed by Japanese traders lamenting a 40% drop overnight. Such steep declines in these external markets were somewhat understandable. Throughout the day on the 8th, aside from the Chinese stock market’s resilient resistance—though it ended with a significant bearish candlestick, it did not hit the daily limit—the overseas markets all closed with massive volume and dramatic plunges. Coupled with their high leverage, it was no surprise that forced liquidations ensued.

That evening, the social circles of mainland retail investors exploded with chatter. Some concluded that the main reason for the day’s failed rally lay in the poor performance of officials at the Development and Reform Commission’s morning press conference—their speeches lacked substance and failed to inspire bullish confidence, embodying old bureaucratic habits. The sharp-eyed post-2000 generation investors cut straight to the point with their scathing critique. Perhaps they were right: just look at American government spokespeople and the president himself, all masters of fanning the flames to manipulate financial markets, consummate actors in their own right. Compared to them, Chinese officials clearly still needed more polish—perhaps future civil servant exams should prioritize candidates from the performing arts.

Meanwhile, domestic independent media began showing serious divisions between bulls and bears. The pre-holiday euphoria had fractured sharply. A former securities firm analyst, now resigned, rebuked cautious private equity magnates, rallying under the banner “bear markets watch price-earnings ratios, bull markets watch price-dream ratios,” insisting that “a bull’s return is priceless” and firmly believing every pullback was a prime opportunity for the post-2000 investors to jump in. It was reminiscent of the 2015 analyst known as Sister Tao at CJ ZQ, who famously declared at 6,000 points, “The true hero shoulders the nation’s burden.”

One couldn’t help but wonder: if this were truly a war, why were there always so many sentimental women on the battlefield? War, please, let the women step aside!

Additionally, calculations showed that during the National Day holiday, three million new accounts would open and only be able to enter the market on the 9th. Assuming an average capital of 100,000 yuan per account, roughly 300 billion yuan in fresh funds would flood the stock market. The central bank’s 500 billion yuan securities swap plan remained mere talk, yet the new generation of investors, armed with 300 billion yuan, stood ready. This data rekindled market confidence once again.

However, before the opening bell on the 9th, discordant news emerged. Regulators reiterated the ban on illegal bank credit flowing into the stock market. Simultaneously, the five major brokerage firms jointly urged investors to remain calm, reminding them that investing is a marathon, not a sprint. But such faint voices were drowned out almost immediately by frenzied market activity—the market opened!

Faced with a torrent of sell orders, the index gapped down sharply, nearly hitting the daily limit before being swiftly pulled back up. The power of three million new investors was like a giant’s hand, instantly lifting the tumbling index. Throughout the day, the index oscillated wildly, with the new army of investors continuously charging forward. Yet the selling pressure surged like a tsunami, an unrelenting weight crushing the market, suffocating even this massive influx of fresh capital. Sell orders multiplied while buy orders waned. By close, the Wind All A-share Index had plunged 7.4%, fully erasing the gap left by the previous day’s sharp rally, signaling a pause in this round of gains. The day’s turnover reached 2.5 trillion yuan, marking the second-largest volume in history. Combined with the 3.5 trillion yuan traded on the 8th, a staggering 6 trillion yuan in volume was trapped in just two days. For comparison, China’s 2008 financial crisis stimulus package was only 4 trillion yuan.

Finally, the frenzied market quieted. The question on everyone’s mind: who was selling? After hours, the entire market searched for the short sellers. According to their own statistical model, Gelonghui presented a capital flow report showing institutional main forces net sold 170 billion yuan, while retail investors net bought the same amount.

Millions of fresh-faced, exuberant post-2000 investors faced off against a small, old, rusted armored force, each side silently muttering “idiots” to the other.

It was unbearable to watch. Continuing this battle would only lead to mutual destruction. Suddenly, the conscience of the brokerages seemed to awaken. Investor risk education campaigns intensified across major firms, with soft articles and feel-good investment guides bombarding the post-2000 generation.

One veteran broker uncle spoke earnestly to the young investors:

1. Never borrow money to trade stocks, including your parents’ retirement funds. If you lose it all, there’s no way you’ll ever repay it on a 3,000-yuan monthly salary.

2. Every country’s bull market is founded on its comprehensive economic strength. A bull market detached from economic fundamentals is a Ponzi scheme, only differing in duration.

3. There is no bull market that only rises, nor a bear market that only falls. Market fluctuations are dictated by the nation’s broader economic cycle—you can think of it as the country’s fate.

4. Trading stocks should not be an ordinary person’s livelihood. Don’t quit your job to trade.

5. China’s next genuine bull market will be built on the success of the RMB’s internationalization and the full overseas expansion of Chinese production capacity. But this is a financial war, one that will demand the sacrifice and bitter cost of an entire generation—thirty years.

Looking at today’s trading data, veteran Jia, with over thirty years in securities, shook his head helplessly and closed his eyes. He was exhausted—truly exhausted. He knew such violent swings would severely strain trading systems, causing many accounts and products to malfunction, potentially triggering a cascade of failures in trading models.

Just as he drifted into a daze, the phone rang—an unknown number.

“General Jia, hello, do you remember me?”