Chapter 218: Do You Think You’re a Stock God?
Chapter 218: Do You Think You’re a Stock God?
The computer at Liu Yue’s podium was the master terminal, which meant she could pull up the screens of any student in the lab. With a click, she projected the feed onto the white canvas at the front of the room. The students all lifted their heads, gazes drawn to the large projection cast by the overhead projector.
She began from terminal one.
That station belonged to Liu Hua. His starting balance of five thousand had already dwindled to around forty-five hundred—a loss of ten percent. Liu Yue gave it a single glance before her soft lips curved coldly. “Brain-dead. Assessment complete.”
The words cut sharper than a blade. Liu Hua’s face turned ashen, and he wished he could crawl into a hole. No one dared laugh at his misfortune, though. Too many of them had also fumbled their trades. The tension in the room grew heavier.
One by one, Liu Yue revealed more results. Many had done slightly better than Liu Hua, but most still sat at losses between one and three percent. Her expression darkened with each successive report.
Finally, a small shift. Mu Zhaozhao’s results flashed on the screen: a clean six percent profit—just enough to reach her standard of “excellent.” Wen Jing followed, scoring a 7.1% gain. Liu Yue’s face eased slightly as she gave a rare word of praise. But afterward, the line of students returned to mediocrity. Most hovered below six percent, none surpassing it. A flicker of disappointment passed across her eyes.
Until she reached Lin Chen.
For this one, she carried genuine anticipation. She knew her younger brother’s capability. Only two months earlier, he had turned a million into three hundred million. Surely, he would show his edge now. The only question was how high he would soar.
The numbers loaded. Her expression froze. Profit: -26%.
The classroom fell into stunned silence.
Liu Hua’s earlier -10% had been awful enough. In all her years of teaching, the worst loss she had seen was -18.3%. Now Lin Chen had managed to shatter even that bottom line. The so-called prodigy had just posted the single worst record in the history of her practice class.
Her gaze cooled. “Worse than brain-dead is arrogance. Let this be a lesson to you, Lin Chen.”
A ripple of whispers ran through the class. This is the genius? This is the child prodigy? Just this? Disbelieving glances shot toward Lin Chen. He burned with frustration. He knew it wasn’t incompetence—Mu Zhaozhao’s “accident” had sent his stock plunging. By the time he recovered, the losses were irreversible. But when he met her wide, innocent eyes across the room, he swallowed the words of defense and forced silence.
How could he scold such a pretty sisterly face?
One after another, more students’ data appeared, until at last it was Wang Haoran’s turn. But instead of revealing his numbers right away, Liu Yue paused.
“Confidence is valuable,” she said, her tone cool but deliberate, “yet it must be tempered with humility. You must learn to listen, and never mistake stubborn pride for strength. Keep this lesson close to heart.”
She did name him directly, but every student turned to Wang Haoran all the same. The implication was clear—Professor Liu was speaking about him.
Only then did she bring up his results on the screen. At the same moment, she glanced at her own monitor, and her breath caught.
She ended the session before he could close out, yet the stock Wang Haoran had gone all-in on refused to stop climbing. His account balance had already swelled from 8270 to 9866, the digits flickering upward like a living thing, drawing every gaze in the room.
The room erupted.
Gasps, exclamations, a wave of awe broke across the students. Even Lin Chen stared blankly, struck dumb. An hour and a handful of minutes—turning five thousand into nearly ten thousand. Even with his so-called grandmaster-level trading skill, he couldn’t have achieved that.
How? Was it luck? Or… was this man also some kind of cheat like him?
Lin Chen’s mind spun. He recalled the inexplicable magic tricks, the flawless piano playing, all surpassing the level of recognized masters. Now this. Three completely different disciplines, all mastered. What kind of monster was Wang Haoran?
At the front of the room, Liu Yue was equally shaken. Her shock gave way to reluctant admiration.
【Ding! Female Lead Liu Yue’s favorability toward the host has risen to 20 (very friendly).】
The notification made Wang Haoran chuckle inwardly. Outwardly, he smiled politely and said, “Professor Liu, I was right, wasn’t I? This stock is still climbing.”
She snorted softly, recovering her composure. “You were lucky. But luck won’t carry you forever. In this world, no one’s fortune lasts without end.”
“This isn’t luck,” Wang Haoran replied seriously. “It’s skill.”
She gave a faint, dismissive smile. “Your numbers are indeed the best in the class—better than any student I’ve ever taught. But don’t let it swell your head. Chasing a bubble stock at its peak with a full position—your arrogance may pay now, but sooner or later, it will ruin you.”
Wang Haoran shook his head lightly. “Not this time, Professor. I know what I’m doing.”
He moved his mouse, executing the trade. In a flash, the shares were sold, and his account jumped to 10,230.
The classroom burst into noise at the new number flashing on the screen, but Liu Yue’s expression only grew darker. On the master terminal, she had seen every detail with her own eyes.
Her voice cut like ice. “I already said, once time is up, no more trades. Did my words mean nothing to you?”
Wang Haoran met her glare calmly. “If I hadn’t sold, the stock would’ve collapsed any second. I would’ve lost everything.”
Her lips curved in a cold smile. “Rise, fall—you think the market bends to your whim? You think you’re some kind of stock god?”