Chapter 94: The Stock Market Is Fraught with Risk; Enter with Caution

After finishing breakfast, Lu Kun and his companions headed out.

Shenzhen in 1990 was filled with many small street scenes rarely seen in the interior provinces. At this time, the city might not have been particularly beautiful, but it was certainly clean. All the trash was put into plastic bags; on the wide main roads, you couldn’t spot popsicle wrappers, dead leaves, or litter. Even the narrow alleys were spotless.

In contrast, in Gui’an, even city dwellers treasured their plastic shopping bags, treating them as prized possessions and reluctant to throw them away even when torn.

“Can’t you give us a better price? We’ll buy more if you do,” a young couple clung to Lu Kun, refusing to let him go as they haggled persistently.

“Stocks aren’t like groceries in a market. Just because you buy more doesn’t mean I can give you a discount,” Lu Kun replied with a shrug.

“But this is a market, isn’t it?” the woman retorted.

Lu Kun was left speechless.

“Buy if you want, otherwise leave,” he finally said, losing his patience with the deal.

The couple continued to pester him for a bargain. By now, several people in the marketplace had begun to watch the scene.

In the end, Lu Kun relented a bit, took pity, and sold some shares at a lower price.

Realizing selling stocks here was risky, Lu Kun gathered his group and moved their business elsewhere. The bus stations and docks were relatively safer; people from all walks of life mingled there, and it was easier to avoid drawing attention.

After all, Lu Kun had experienced firsthand how formidable the morning market aunties could be. The market was their domain, not a place to make a scene.

...

Shenzhen Station.

“Hey, brother, are you selling stocks?” A tall, thin man approached Lu Kun furtively.

“Whoa! You startled me!” Lu Kun looked the man over carefully, his eyes flashing with curiosity before he asked, “Do you work for the government?”

The man’s face changed dramatically. “How... how did you know?”

He realized too late that he’d reacted too strongly. Covering his mouth, he trembled and asked in a low voice, “Are you in government too?”

Lu Kun considered pretending, but decided against it and laughed, “No, I’m just a stock middleman.”

“Phew...” The tall man breathed a huge sigh of relief, almost collapsing.

“Hey, are you alright? Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal for public servants to trade stocks—it’s just a job loss at most,” Lu Kun said, patting his shoulder.

The man was momentarily taken aback by Lu Kun’s bluntness. “You’re not going to report me, are you?” he asked anxiously.

Lu Kun rolled his eyes. “I’m not nearly that bored.”

Back in October 1990, to quell the outcry over officials trading stocks, the Shenzhen Municipal Party Committee and city government had already banned cadres from stock trading. This man was clearly breaking the rules.

But Lu Kun didn’t think officials trading stocks was such a big deal. The real issue was to improve and strictly enforce the mechanisms of the stock market. Internationally, there had never been a ban on officials trading stocks. In fact, in 1990, there was a popular saying: “If the leaders don’t buy stocks, the little investors have no sense of security.”

“So, which department do you work for?” Lu Kun asked, patting the man’s shoulder and offering him a Marlboro cigarette from his pack.

In its early days, Marlboro was actually marketed toward women, with the slogan “Mild as May.” It wasn’t until 1954 that the brand reinvented itself, focusing on rugged masculinity and the heroic American cowboy. By 1989, Marlboro sold 318 billion cigarettes worldwide—more than bottled Coca-Cola or canned Campbell’s Soup. That year, the brand raked in $94 billion in revenue, ranking 45th in the Fortune Global 500.

“No, no, I don’t smoke,” the man hurriedly declined.

Though only a minor office clerk, the man was worldly enough to know that such cigarettes were rare in the mainland. Lu Kun hadn’t bought the pack himself—it was a gift from the chubby Li Erfu, who’d given him two whole cartons, a generous gesture.

At this time, Marlboro had no mainland distributor; most of the cigarettes on the coast had come from Hong Kong, where the exclusive agency was still held by Ho Ying Kit’s Tobacco Company. Lu Kun recalled that by 1996, the parent company, Philip Morris, would reclaim that agency.

“Looks like I’ve run into a highly educated intellectual, eh?” Lu Kun teased.

“N-no. I’m just a gofer at the Municipal Sports Bureau. My grades were never good, but I managed to marry into a family with some connections and land a steady government job. I used to hope my father-in-law would help me move up, but less than a year after my wedding, he got caught in a scandal. Sigh...” The tall man looked dejected, shaking his head. By the end of his story, he’d even asked Lu Kun for a cigarette and tried to smoke.

“Hey, take it easy—don’t inhale too hard if you’re new to smoking,” Lu Kun said, rushing to help.

“Brother, you know, you really have to rely on yourself if you want to get anywhere,” Lu Kun advised.

“I know all about not relying on others. But what can I do if I’m useless on my own? What’s left for me?” the man said bitterly, crushing the lit cigarette in frustration.

Lu Kun was speechless.

“My condolences,” he said, patting the man’s shoulder again.

The man fell silent.

“Remember, greed is the surest way to ruin. Stocks aren’t some golden ticket. If you want to make a little money, sell them off in the next few days, or you’ll regret it,” Lu Kun warned him before they parted ways.

After their conversation, Lu Kun gained a better understanding of the man’s situation. His name was Huang Boxuan, and he was truly at his wit’s end. His father-in-law was in prison, his mother-in-law bedridden after a stroke, his wife unemployed and staying home to care for their child and the elderly.

At work, Huang Boxuan was disliked and his meager salary couldn’t even cover the family’s financial hole, yet he didn’t dare quit and go into business. Even though back in 1983, the Ministry of Labor and Personnel and the State Economic Commission had already issued regulations on “leave without pay,” for Huang Boxuan’s big family, quitting might mean starvation.

Desperate, Huang Boxuan had taken the risk of being expelled from the civil service to buy stocks. They had even sold their home, now renting just to gamble on this chance.

P.S.: Many thanks to reader “Cell No.14” for the 500-coin reward!