Chapter 5

◎Stock Brokerage◎

Fan Qi woke up, knowing that Chen Zhiqian had already gotten up. She didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to face the fact that she had transmigrated. She didn’t want to see this tiny bedroom.

She was a classic case of loving the dragon in theory but fearing it in reality. When reading about him in the book, she could swear up and down that the accusations against him were slander. He was a man of clear grudges—he would never do such things.

But now that she was actually here, right next to him, even a 1% chance was something she didn’t want to gamble on.

After a series of urgent phone rings outside, Chen Zhiqian’s voice came through the door.

“Mr. Wang, why are you so agitated? She agreed to attend the gathering, but I was the one who wouldn’t let her go. A young girl like her—do you not realize how unsafe it is in Hong Kong late at night?”

Upon hearing this, Fan Qi immediately understood—it was the director who had once “discovered” the original host of this body calling. This was something she needed to handle herself.

She got out of bed at once and walked to the door.

Chen Zhiqian’s voice was deep and firm. “Mr. Wang, don’t pretend I don’t know what you really wanted her there for last night.”

Fan Qi walked up and took the phone from his hand.

From the other end, a mocking voice rang out, “Mr. Chen, I seriously suspect you’re still living in the Qing Dynasty. Why don’t you bind your sister’s feet too, keep her locked away in the house, never letting her step outside to earn a living? Do you think people can survive in this industry without socializing?”

Fan Qi cut straight to the point. “What did Mr. Cai mean when he mentioned three thousand dollars?”

“Mr. Lin invited you to dinner and wanted to buy you a gift.”

“Mr. Wang, let’s not beat around the bush. I’m not completely clueless about the dirty dealings in the entertainment industry. Nowadays, people ridicule the poor but not the promiscuous. If someone is willing to trade their dignity for fame and fortune, that’s their choice. But it has to be consensual, and everything should be made clear from the start. Did you ever make it clear to me? You didn’t even tell me the truth, so isn’t that deception? And now, just because I didn’t fall for it, you’re blaming me?”

The director, Wang, was caught off guard by her bluntness. His tone quickly shifted.

“Fan Qi, stop pretending to be pure and innocent. Do you still want to make a name for yourself? Your contract expires in just over twenty days. I went through a lot of trouble to get the company to offer you a renewal with a guaranteed minimum of six thousand dollars per month. Are you telling me you don’t want it anymore?”

Four hundred dollars guaranteed until July 12th. Thank goodness she hadn’t signed an early renewal—otherwise, she’d be stuck in a mess right now.

Fan Qi smiled, but her voice remained professional. “I believe that true talent will always shine. I have no interest in underhanded tricks.”

“Innocent fool. I can make you famous, but I can also ensure you never get back up again,” the director sneered. “Just wait until you’re desperate enough to beg me on your knees, naked.”

“Sure! I’ll wait,” Fan Qi said coldly before hanging up. She had no interest in arguing with garbage.

When she turned around, she saw Chen Zhiqian walking over with a tray in hand. On it were two slices of toast and a serving of scrambled eggs.

She was surprised. “None for me?”

As soon as she said that, Fan Qi immediately wanted to bite her tongue. Could she stop being so casual? How could she dare order around “Twenty-Seven Knives” like he was her servant? Was she not satisfied with the number twenty-seven—did she want to add to it?

“You eat this first. I’ll make another serving,” Chen Zhiqian said, placing the tray on the table.

Fan Qi glanced at the breakfast on the table, then at Chen Zhiqian, who was already back at the stove cracking eggs.

So… was everything in the story a lie? His temper seemed perfectly fine.

Well, in that case… might as well eat? But first, she needed to brush her teeth.

She entered the bathroom and was met with her own reflection—her hair was a wild mess, making her look like a golden-haired lion.

Her eyes widened. She had just shown up in front of Chen Zhiqian looking like this?

Never mind! If she wasn’t embarrassed, the awkwardness would be someone else’s problem.

She quickly brushed her teeth, washed her face, and tied up her hair. By the time she returned, Chen Zhiqian had already finished making another serving of breakfast and even poured her a cup of coffee.

A young tycoon, yet so considerate?

The television was on, broadcasting news from an English channel. As he ate, the anchor reported that the Parkinson-Goodison reform agreement, signed in 1983 by the British government and the London Stock Exchange, was about to take effect. Foreign financial groups would soon be allowed to purchase shares in British-listed companies, marking a major transformation in the securities industry. This was part of Margaret Thatcher’s financial reforms—the beginning of financial liberalization.

Fan Qi took a bite of toast and sipped her coffee.

The moment it hit her tongue, the artificial flavoring nearly made her gag. Spitting it out would be rude, but swallowing it was torture.

Across from her, Chen Zhiqian sipped his coffee with practiced elegance.

She had no choice but to force it down.

Fan Qi wasn’t picky about coffee beans, but she absolutely refused to drink instant coffee. Unfortunately, this was exactly that.

She quickly ate a bite of scrambled eggs to recover and vowed never to touch that cup again.

Chen Zhiqian’s gaze flickered toward her untouched coffee before he said, “I’ll be away for a few days. I’ll be back on Sunday.”

Fan Qi looked up. “Where are you going?”

“Got some business to handle.”

That answered nothing. But she realized she had asked too much, so she simply nodded. “Okay.”

The phone rang again.

Fan Qi reached for it, but her hand bumped into Chen Zhiqian’s. She gestured for him to answer instead.

“You take it,” he said, handing her the receiver.

She took the call. “Hello?”

“Fan Qi, do you really not want a career in the entertainment industry anymore? I just got word from ‘Qin Jian Ming Yue’—you’re out,” her agent snapped.

Martial arts dramas were dominating the mainstream market, and Qin Jian Ming Yue was no exception. This was the biggest role the original host had landed since coming to Hong Kong.

The show was a harem-style drama where the male lead, Long Aotian, collected seven different female leads, each with their own unique charm. The original host had been cast as the most seductive and enchanting character—a courtesan. The director from earlier had played a role in securing that part for her.

Now that she had offended him, it was only natural that she lost the role.

“Oh,” Fan Qi responded flatly.

Her indifference enraged her agent. “Do you think you’ll get any more roles this month? Let me tell you, you won’t even see that four hundred dollars!”

“So, I won’t be acting at all this month?” she asked.

“What do you think? You won’t be getting any roles next month either. And don’t forget, you only get that four hundred if you film at least twenty hours!”

“Great! If I can’t earn four hundred from acting, I’ll go wait tables and make two thousand. I’ll head out to find a job later. Anything else?”

The other end went silent except for ragged breathing.

A minute later, her agent spat out, “Nothing.”

“Goodbye, then,” Fan Qi said before hanging up.

Chen Zhiqian had already left the dining area.

Fan Qi went to wash the dishes. A moment later, he emerged with his suitcase.

“I’m leaving,” he said.

“Okay.”

At the door, he paused. “If you’re serious about finding a job, don’t rush. Wait until I get back.”

Then, he left.

Seeing Chen Zhiqian’s serious expression, Fan Qi shook her head. “I was just fooling him. No way am I going to wait tables.”

“Oh.” A trace of awkwardness appeared on Chen Zhiqian’s face as he dragged his suitcase and headed out.

After washing the dishes, Fan Qi wiped down the table and noticed a Yellow Pages directory lying in the corner.

In an era without search engines, the Yellow Pages were used to look up phone numbers and addresses. Fan Qi had no idea how to open an account or trade stocks in this time period, so she decided to flip through the directory and see if there were any professional firms she could consult.

She turned to the section on securities. At the top was the Hong Kong Stock Exchange’s number, followed by various financial firms with different titles. Many of them included the words “stock brokerage.”

Stock brokers? That was the reminder she needed. In her original time, stock trading was incredibly simple—just accessing the market through a brokerage platform. But in this era, computerized stock trading was probably still in its infancy. Buying stocks required going through a broker, or as they were called here, a “stock brokerage firm.”

She noted down the addresses of several firms near her home and made some calls to inquire about account opening procedures and real-time market tracking.

Several firms showed impatience with her accented Cantonese, while others understood but struggled to explain things clearly.

For the original host, learning Cantonese to this level after just a year was already impressive. Now, after two “transfers of ownership,” Fan Qi found that certain financial terms were used differently in mainland China and Hong Kong. When she talked about “going long” or “short selling,” the brokers didn’t understand her. Left with no choice, she switched to English, assuming that anyone working in the financial sector in Hong Kong, even in the 1980s, should have a decent grasp of the language. Yet, communication still felt like chickens talking to ducks.

Should she just take the subway to the Hong Kong Stock Exchange in Central? From her morning calls, she had learned that all brokerage firms had either their headquarters or offices there, as licensed stockbrokers were required to conduct trades on the exchange floor.

The subway ride was convenient. Fan Qi looked up at the towering modern building. After some inquiries, she confirmed that the main entrance led to the stock exchange, while brokerage firms had their own separate entrances. She located a directory listing different firms on the ground floor wall.

She decided to visit one called Changxing Brokerage first. Taking the elevator to the second floor, she stepped out and saw a glass door with a marble plaque engraved with a gold-lettered logo.

Entering, she greeted the receptionist. “Miss, I’d like to open an account with your firm. Who should I speak to?”

The receptionist, a sweet-voiced young woman, recognized her and smiled brightly. “Miss Fan! I’ll connect you with a stockbroker.”

A call was made, and shortly after, a young woman in a Chanel suit walked out.

“Miss Xu, Miss Fan would like to speak with a stockbroker,” the receptionist informed her.

Miss Xu wore a haughty expression as she glanced at Fan Qi. “Follow me.”

Fan Qi trailed behind her to a reception area and watched as she sat down.

Despite trading stocks full-time for years, Fan Qi had also worked in investment banking. She knew that client meetings should never be handled so carelessly. At the very least, they should be conducted in a private meeting room. Maybe things were different in this era? Or perhaps Hong Kong’s tight real estate market and the high rent for offices at the exchange meant there simply wasn’t room for one?

She took a seat across from Miss Xu and saw the woman glance up before asking, “How much capital do you have?”

“Twenty thousand Hong Kong dollars.”

Miss Xu’s expression turned to one of expected disappointment. Without another word, she stood up and addressed the receptionist. “Didn’t you receive training when you joined? We don’t waste time on clients with less than five hundred thousand. Our time is valuable.”

The receptionist trembled and quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, Miss Xu, I didn’t know.”

“Now you do.”

Miss Xu dismissed Fan Qi entirely and strode back into the office with an air of superiority.

After years of stock trading, Fan Qi had never had to deal with brokers when her funds were small. And once her portfolio grew past a billion, her reputation alone guaranteed her premium service. She had always been treated with deference—when had she ever been looked down upon like this?

Glancing at the receptionist, she calmly remarked, “Miss Xu, the way you speak is extremely rude.”

Miss Xu turned back and smirked. “I was just stating facts. Miss Fan, why don’t you go shoot a few more Category III films and come back when you’ve saved up five hundred thousand?”

Her words drew the attention of the other brokerage staff.

Fan Qi’s face darkened. “I won’t argue with you. Your character will determine the height of your career. Goodbye.”

She turned and walked away.

Behind her, she heard the broker scoff, “As if an actress from skin flicks has any real prospects.”

“Not necessarily! Didn’t Kam Siu-wai marry a jeweler?” someone else chimed in.

“You think a Hong Kong tycoon would ever marry a ‘Beigu’?”

Fan Qi didn’t understand why they were so hostile toward her. Whether the media called the original host the “Northern Beauty” or sneered with the term “Beigu,” both were discriminatory slurs aimed at mainland women trying to make a living in Hong Kong. Worse, “Beigu” specifically referred to prostitutes who had come from the mainland.

Even if the original host had acted in erotic films, she earned her living through her own efforts without stealing or cheating. Why should she be insulted?

Fan Qi took off her hat, revealing her bare face, and turned to stare directly at the broker—a woman with high cheekbones, slightly thick lips, clad in Chanel with a diamond-encrusted Piaget watch on her wrist.

Back in her original timeline, Fan Qi had become one of China’s top retail investors. When a short-sellers’ forum held an in-person gathering, a leaked photo of her sent the internet into a frenzy. Apart from praising her looks, people noted that her gaze was as sharp as her trading style—nothing like her cute-sounding nickname.

Even the industry veterans at the gathering agreed. “She’s stunning, but her presence is too strong—she’s not easy to approach.”

Someone summed it up best: “She exudes confidence because success came to her too early. The world hasn’t worn her down. Instead, it’s cultivated an attitude that says, ‘I don’t need to please anyone.’”

None of the onlookers had expected that the actress, who always appeared sultry and seductive on screen, could have such an intense, domineering gaze. The stockbroker she locked eyes with didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly.

Stepping forward, Fan Qi said, “Miss, don’t project your own thoughts onto others. I have zero interest in any of the wealthy families in Hong Kong. Also, I’d suggest you rinse that mouth of yours with toilet cleaner—it reeks.”

With that, she put on her hat and walked out.

However, after visiting a few more firms, the results were the same. Only those who met the entry threshold could directly access the floor traders, and a fifty-thousand-dollar minimum wasn’t considered high. For small retail investors like her, the brokers all advised going to the exchange’s off-floor counters or directly purchasing stocks at a brokerage branch.