"Manager Liu, what do you think?"
Inside a VIP room at the Hong Kong Stock Exchange, Li Jiacheng stared intently at the display screen showing the fluctuating stock price of Wharf Holdings, then turned to ask the middle-aged man beside him.
Liu Haobing, well aware of what his boss was asking, replied, "From the price's recovery and subsequent volatility, it's clear the other side is trying to accumulate shares quietly. They buy when the price dips and stay still when it rises, allowing it to fall back down again. Judging by this pattern, it's highly likely they're planning a full acquisition of Wharf Holdings."
"So, we're still one step too late," Li sighed. His own conclusion matched Liu's — someone else had already begun the move. With such a rival in play, his own chances of taking over Wharf Holdings were almost zero.
Liu then added, "Mr. Li, if you trust your own valuation — that HK$40 is the fair price for Wharf Holdings — we could still buy shares now. Once the acquisition battle starts, prices will soar, and we'll profit handsomely."
Li nodded. He knew such a move might offend whoever was behind the secret acquisition, but since he didn't even know who they were, there was no reason to avoid making money out of fear.
"I originally planned to use the HK$200 million we raised to buy Wharf shares first, then seek additional bank support later," Li said. "But it seems now we'll just use that capital to drive up the price a bit and ride the wave for profit."
"Manager Liu, get things ready. Have our traders start buying heavily at 3:30 PM. As long as the price stays below HK$30, buy it all. Once it rises past HK$30, start selling the low-priced shares."
"This time, we're here to make money, not to hold. Sell whenever it hits our target."
Li wasn't worried about getting trapped. He believed once the acquisition battle truly broke out, Wharf's stock would easily surpass HK$30 — maybe even his estimated HK$40 — and could go even higher.
He was cautious, of course, selling past HK$30 because he preferred to keep liquidity for acquiring real companies, not gamble too long on the volatile stock market. Stocks could be unpredictable — the only reason he dared invest so much now was because he trusted Wharf's potential.
"Yes, sir. I'll arrange it immediately," Liu replied, hurrying out. The plan was simple: move fast, buy aggressively, and give competitors no time to react.
Down on the trading floor, Chen Baocai nervously watched Wharf Holdings' price movements.
He'd been waiting all day for a surge. The stock had rebounded in the afternoon but hovered in a frustrating up-and-down range — every time it hit HK$15, it fell back. Several times, Chen nearly sold off. Selling at HK$15 would still net him a small profit.
But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Earlier that morning, the price had almost hit HK$20 — selling now would feel like a loss. He just couldn't swallow that regret.
The only comfort was that after the afternoon rebound, the stock hadn't plunged again. At least he wasn't staring at a collapse that would force him to cut his losses. Had it fallen to HK$12 or below, he wasn't sure he could've held on.
Time ticked away. Only about half an hour remained before closing. The price continued its range-bound dance, showing no sign of breaking out.
Some traders, fearing a late-day drop, began selling, nudging the price slightly downward.
Then suddenly, the price shot up — violently, rapidly, almost like a spark in dry grass. Within moments, Wharf's stock rocketed upward.
Most traders had no time to react. Only a few who had anticipated the move managed to buy in before it surged past their screens.
By the time the stock hit HK$20 — its morning high — a wall of sell orders finally slowed the climb.
But once that resistance was broken, it soared again, even faster this time. Li's capital wasn't the only force driving it — other institutions, spotting the opportunity, joined the buying frenzy.
"Up! Up! Keep going!" Chen shouted, his face flushed with excitement as the digits raced upward.
But he wasn't foolish enough to wait for the absolute peak. When the price hit HK$24 and began to slow, he sold his 35 lots at an average of HK$24.3 per share.
From a HK$50,000 investment, he walked away with HK$85,000 — nearly HK$35,000 in profit after fees. A fantastic day's work.
Even after selling, Chen didn't leave. He stayed to watch, eager to see what would happen next.
Wharf's stock didn't stop rising — it climbed past HK$25 in the last ten minutes before closing.
Once it broke HK$25, upward resistance weakened, and the price briefly neared HK$26.
But that's when An Yuan's team made their move. On his orders, traders across four exchanges began dumping huge volumes of Wharf shares.
25 HKD. 24 HKD. The price plunged through both levels. Retail traders and institutions couldn't hold the line.
Li tried to support the market, buying heavily at HK$23 to prevent panic, but even his massive war chest couldn't withstand the selling pressure for long. His HK$200 million fund had already been partly used earlier, leaving him with barely enough to sustain 8 million shares.
By now, his firm — Baisheng Securities — held roughly 19.5 million shares in total. But despite all their buying, the downward momentum was unstoppable.
After burning through HK$100 million, Li finally admitted defeat and stopped buying.
With his withdrawal, the market collapsed.
In minutes, the price sank below HK$20.
An Yuan, satisfied, halted further selling. No one else had the strength to step in.
The last minutes before close were chaos — desperate selling, vanishing buyers, and a price chart that looked like a nosedive.
By the final bell, Wharf Holdings had fallen to HK$13.3.
Yesterday's closing price had been HK$13.1, so technically, it still "rose" a bit — but everyone on the trading floor knew it was a bloodbath.
From a high of HK$25.88 down to HK$13.3, it was a rollercoaster of greed and panic.
A few, like Chen Baocai, walked away lucky and rich. But for most traders, the day ended in ruin and disbelief.