LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 101: Meng’s Boundaries
With the private equity fund subscription contracts signed, there was no reason to delay the funds any further. By the afternoon of the same day, all 34 subscriptions—totaling $68 million, along with $1.36 million in management fees—were transferred into the account.
Lu Liang himself subscribed to 16 shares, contributing $32 million and $640,000 in management fees. With this, the $100 million target was met, and the fundraising period concluded within a single day.
The next day, he went to meet Liu Changqing at the Industrial and Commercial Bank of China (ICBC). Using the $100 million deposit, he obtained a loan of 636 million RMB.
When the corporate account for Tianxing Asset Management was originally set up at ICBC, a dual-currency private equity fund contract had been signed. Under the terms, any dollars deposited at ICBC would entitle the company to an equivalent amount of RMB at no interest.
On the surface, ICBC seemed to be taking a loss, but in reality, the four major commercial banks all offered a service called "foreign exchange loans."
For example, some companies importing equipment might need foreign currency because international suppliers won’t accept RMB. If those companies lacked foreign exchange reserves, they would turn to the bank for a loan.
However, foreign exchange management in China was tightly regulated. Even ICBC’s Magic City branch had strict annual limits on how much foreign currency it could request.
With Lu Liang’s $100 million deposit under Liu Changqing’s management, the branch head practically wanted to roll out the red carpet for him. A tiny processing fee was hardly a concern.
Lu Liang reminded him sternly, “Director Liu, just because our company doesn’t need USD right now doesn’t mean we won’t need it in the future. I don’t want any delays or bureaucratic hurdles when the time comes.”
Liu Changqing quickly reassured him, “Mr. Lu, let me be honest with you. Our branch maintains at least $180 million in foreign exchange reserves per quarter. No matter when you need the funds, they will be immediately accessible.”Such reserves were typically only used in emergencies. Most of the time, Liu Changqing could only watch potential loan business slip through his fingers.
But now, with an additional $100 million in foreign currency at his disposal, he could be a bit more aggressive with his strategies, potentially generating an extra $10 million in annual revenue.
Moreover, Liu had full confidence in Lu Liang’s abilities. This $100 million was only the beginning—future transactions could easily reach $1 billion or even $5 billion.
Liu understood the difference between a single feast and continuous banquets. He vowed never to delay Lu’s currency exchanges at critical moments.
Satisfied, Lu Liang nodded and left the bank.
Returning to the New International Building, he called Wen Chao to check on the results of the background checks.
“The resumes of the four new hires are mostly accurate—no criminal records and no bad habits. The two experienced professionals are still being investigated; we’ll have results by the afternoon at the latest.”
“Send offers to the four new hires now and have them come in tomorrow to complete onboarding. If the two experienced ones pass, send their offers too and have them start tomorrow as well,” Lu Liang instructed.
The large trading room felt eerily quiet, with only Lu Liang clicking his mouse and typing on the keyboard as he worked alone.
His repetitive actions—buying and selling on the colorful screens—were almost mechanical, and he yawned three times in a row, tears streaming down his face.
The good news about the renewable energy sector hadn’t surfaced yet, so this was still the position-building phase. Lu Liang couldn’t afford to make large moves, cautiously buying small batches of ten or twenty lots at a time to avoid disrupting the market.
He cycled through six stocks, buying a little from each in rotation.
Each transaction was worth just 20,000 RMB. If he had to build the portfolio alone, he doubted he’d even hit 10% of the target allocation by the time the trend ended.
“Mr. Lu, it’s Wednesday. What time should I book your flight?” Wen Chao suddenly asked.
“Flight? What flight?” Lu Liang asked, confused.
“The financing meeting for OFO on Friday the 29th. You mentioned to Mr. Dai that you’d attend,” Wen Chao reminded him.
Lu Liang nodded as the memory came back. He had been so busy lately that it had slipped his mind. “Is the meeting in the morning or afternoon?”
“Three in the afternoon.”
“Then book me a flight around noon,” he said.
As he thought about it, Lu Liang recalled Shen Peng’s warning: ‘Zhu Hu isn’t a good person.’
At the time, what had Shen Peng meant by that?
If Zhu Hu was unhappy with Lu holding 20% of OFO’s shares, he would have contacted Lu by now to coerce or entice him into selling. But there had been no such attempts. ꞦÄ₦ÓВƐ𝙨
This made Lu Liang wonder if Shen Peng’s warning had been a deliberate ploy—to make him paranoid and uneasy.
However, Shen Peng’s exact motives remained unclear.
Lu Liang decided that he would need to meet Zhu Hu in person on Friday to uncover the truth.
The afternoon passed quickly, with just two hours of trading.
Lu Liang invested 12 million RMB, averaging about 2 million per stock, ensuring that the trades had no significant market impact. Satisfied, he ended the day’s work on a good note.
Stepping out of the trading room, he noticed that four specialized security guards had been stationed near the security gate. In the lounge area not far away, Meng Changkun was lying sideways on the couch, fiddling with his phone.
With a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Lu Liang walked over, patted Meng’s belly, and sat down beside him. “What brings you here with so much time on your hands today?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to finish up. All done?” Meng asked, instantly sitting up with surprising agility for someone his size.
Lu Liang nodded, and Meng called over his assistant, Liu Jun, who handed him a stack of documents. “Take a look. Who should we keep?”
Lu Liang had previously stated that he would only focus on making money, leaving company affairs, including staffing decisions, entirely to Meng.
However, Meng knew not to overstep his authority. While Lu Liang might not actively monitor such matters, Meng ensured that he brought them to Lu’s attention as a sign of respect.
Flipping through the documents, Lu Liang saw that there were 28 candidates, all transferred from Kunqian Trading. They were basic-level employees, including receptionists, administrative staff, security personnel, and legal professionals, with two or three people allocated to each department. However, there was no one assigned to handle financial audits.
Lu Liang chuckled, appreciating Meng’s sense of boundaries. After some thought, he said, “Let Tang take on the role of financial director as well.”
Meng smiled. “I was thinking the same thing.”
The two exchanged a knowing glance, their unspoken understanding clear.
As for Xiao Wang, Lu Liang figured his only real skill was enthusiastically shouting, “666!” (a slang phrase for “awesome” in China).
That evening, Lu Liang received the background reports from a third-party service regarding the two experienced candidates. The evaluations described both as mediocre but honest and diligent.
Although they had participated in numerous projects over their more than ten years in the industry, neither had ever taken the lead. Their names typically appeared near the end of project lists, suggesting that they had mainly played supporting roles.
For Lu Liang, they were perfect. Competent but not overly ambitious, these were exactly the kind of people he needed. He instructed Wen Chao to send them offers immediately.
The next morning, the two experienced professionals and four new hires completed their onboarding, with the first document they signed being a confidentiality agreement.
The two veterans, having signed countless such agreements in the past, were called in for one-on-one conversations with Lu Liang. They were made aware of their primary role: mentoring the new hires.
Eager to assist, the two veterans enthusiastically began explaining the work to the newcomers.
On the first morning, Lu Liang did not assign any actual trades. Instead, he had them log into a simulated trading system to familiarize themselves with the equipment and work environment.
After lunch, everyone surrendered their communication devices and passed through the security gate to enter the trading room. Only then did Lu Liang brief them on the plan.
The six individuals were divided into two teams of three, each team comprising one veteran and two newcomers. Each team was assigned 12 trading accounts and tasked with building positions in six target stocks at their price floors.
Sitting at the main control desk, Lu Liang monitored each account and issued commands:
“BYD has the largest market cap and excellent stock liquidity. You can buy slightly more of that.”
“LeTV's stock behavior is abnormal. Stop buying and redirect funds to SAIC, Yutong, and Zhongtong.”
With the help of the team, they managed to accumulate 67 million RMB in stocks within just one afternoon.
This was on a low-volume Thursday. If it had been a busier day like Monday or Tuesday, they could have easily acquired over 100 million RMB in stocks.
Among the six stocks, BYD, with a market cap of 155 billion RMB, contributed the most, with 18.5 million RMB worth of shares purchased.
The remaining five stocks accounted for a combined total of 48.5 million RMB.
Their total holdings now stood at 115 million RMB.
Lu Liang paused, considering the situation. Six stocks still felt a bit limiting—they wouldn’t be able to absorb over 600 million RMB in funds.
He shifted his focus from vehicle manufacturers to downstream suppliers, specifically those dealing in batteries and motors, the most critical components of electric vehicles.
Five new stocks caught his attention: EVE Energy, Tianqi Lithium, Fangzheng Electric, Ganfeng Lithium, and Do-Fluoride Chemicals.
He added these five stocks to the reserve list, ready to pivot to them as soon as the initial six stocks became saturated.
With a combined market cap exceeding 300 billion RMB, the 11 stocks should be able to accommodate their more than 600 million RMB in funds without issue.
By Friday morning, after completing the trades, Lu Liang called on Meng Changkun to oversee operations while he prepared to leave for Jingcheng.
“I have no idea how to do this!” Meng protested, his furrowed brow and every fiber of his being exuding reluctance.
“Just sit there and collect the keys at the end of the day. I’ve already laid out the entire afternoon’s plan,” Lu Liang replied.
Rushing to catch his flight, Lu Liang handed over responsibility to Meng. Since the main account remained with him, the longest Meng would need to hold down the fort would be the one hour or so Lu Liang spent in the air.