Chapter 36: Bargaining and Reaching an Agreement

The Stock Exchange building is located in Central, while the Peninsula Hotel sits on the Kowloon Peninsula, separated by the harbor. To travel from Central to the Peninsula, one must pass through the Cross-Harbour Tunnel. The Cross-Harbour Tunnel was Hong Kong's first underwater vehicular tunnel, officially opened on August 2, 1972.

Xiang Zhiqiu’s driver navigated the car through the tunnel and soon arrived at the hotel entrance. Once the car stopped, Xiang turned to Chen Hao and Li Zhi and said, "Mr. Chen, Ms. Li, we have arrived at the Peninsula. Let’s get out." With that, he opened the door and stepped out, followed by Chen and Li.

"Mr. Xiang, I’ll go park the car," the driver said. Xiang nodded. He then approached Chen and Li, gestured with an inviting hand, and said, "Mr. Chen, Ms. Li, please."

"After you, Mr. Xiang," they replied, mirroring his gesture. The three of them entered the hotel together.

The Peninsula is the oldest existing hotel in Hong Kong and ranks among the most famous and luxurious five-star establishments in the world. Directly opposite the hotel lies the iconic Victoria Harbour. The Peninsula has been named one of the top ten hotels globally, having hosted many world-renowned figures, including former U.S. President Richard Nixon, NBA star Michael Jordan, and Queen Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom. That Xiang Zhiqiu invited Chen and Li to dine here was a clear testament to the importance he placed on Chen.

In his previous life, Chen had stayed at the Peninsula, so the setting was not entirely unfamiliar, though the layout and decor differed from his memories. Even so, the hotel radiated opulence. Stepping into the lobby, one was immediately struck by the spaciousness and the soaring vaulted ceilings. The magnificent hall was adorned with exquisite crystal chandeliers, casting a brilliant glow. The marble floors, smooth as mirrors, reflected the ornate surroundings. Every piece of furniture and every detail had been meticulously curated, showcasing the hotel’s pursuit of ultimate quality. It was a place where tradition met modernity and East met West, creating a unique experience of luxury.

Xiang led them to the Peninsula’s famous Chinese restaurant, Spring Moon. Opened in 1986, it is a renowned destination for Cantonese cuisine that requires reservations. As a frequent patron, Xiang had already secured a table. Guided by a waiter, they were shown to their seats.

"What would you like to eat? Please, order whatever you fancy," Xiang said.

"I think it’s best if you take the lead, Mr. Xiang," Chen replied with a smile.

"Very well," Xiang nodded. He ordered fresh seafood, including salmon, oysters, and geoduck, followed by dim sum staples like baked barbecue pork pastries, fish maw and bamboo fungus soup dumplings, and custard mooncakes. He also ordered two bottles of champagne, as white wine and champagne are excellent pairings for seafood.

"Mr. Chen, judging by your accent, you don't seem to be a local of Hong Kong," Xiang remarked, looking at Chen.

"I came from the mainland," Chen replied.

"Actually, my ancestral home is on the mainland as well," Xiang said with a smile.

"I know. You are from Dongguan, Guangdong Province," Chen said. As Xiang was the "God of Stocks" in Hong Kong, Chen was well-versed in his background.

"It seems you know quite a lot about me, Mr. Chen," Xiang laughed.

"You are the famous God of Stocks in Hong Kong; it’s no surprise that I would know your background," Chen replied.

"In your presence, I truly cannot lay claim to that title," Xiang said, his tone sincere. "You are the real master of the market." This was no flattery; Xiang genuinely felt inferior to Chen’s trading prowess.

"You’re too kind, Mr. Xiang. I’m just playing around," Chen said modestly.

"If this is just 'playing around,' imagine how formidable you would be if you took it seriously," Xiang said with a knowing smile.

"It’s just luck," Chen replied with a humble laugh. "My luck has been quite good."

"If it were eight or ten times, perhaps I would call it luck," Xiang said, looking at him with admiration. "But ever since you opened an account at my brokerage, you’ve executed thousands of trades, and 99 percent of them have been profitable. I don't think luck can explain that anymore."

Chen simply smiled and did not respond to the comment, instead asking, "I assume that inviting us to lunch today isn't just about the meal, Mr. Xiang?"

"You're right. There is indeed something I would like to discuss with you," Xiang nodded.

"Please, speak freely," Chen said. He had already guessed Xiang's intention: a partnership in stock trading.

"Your trading skills are so impressive that I am in awe," Xiang began. "I would like to collaborate with you. I provide the capital, you provide the expertise, and we split the profits proportionally."

"How shall we split the profits?" Chen asked.

"Eighty-twenty," Xiang replied without hesitation. "Eighty for me, twenty for you."

"No, that won't do," Chen countered. "How about this? We split it eighty-twenty—eighty for me, twenty for you."

"Seventy-thirty," Xiang suggested. "Seventy for me, thirty for you."

"Seventy-thirty," Chen repeated, like a parrot. "Seventy for me, thirty for you."

"Sixty-forty," Xiang said, his face turning serious. "Sixty for me, forty for you. This is my bottom line."

"Sixty-forty," Chen replied with equal gravity. "Sixty for me, forty for you. This is my bottom line as well." In truth, Chen’s real bottom line was a fifty-fifty split.

"Are you serious?" Xiang stared at him intently.

"Of course," Chen remained unfazed.

"Fine. Let us each take a step back," Xiang said with a resigned sigh. "Fifty-fifty."

"Deal," Chen said, extending his right hand.

"Haha!" Xiang laughed. "So your bottom line was fifty-fifty all along." He shook Chen’s hand, sealing their partnership.