Chapter 635: Pushed Aside

After Fang Hong finished speaking, Zheng Zhihao, CEO of TuPiaoPiao management, took the stage to deliver a speech.

He also spoke about the difficulties along the way and the promise of renewed glory, aiming to reassure investors; Fang Hong could speak casually, but he still had to follow protocol.

The investors, managers, and entrepreneurs in the audience had largely come to understand TuPiaoPiao's situation.

After all, there were promotional posters and videos, and word of mouth had already given people a general idea of what the company was about.

Although Chang'e and the Jade Rabbit were famous, it depended on which circle you were in.

In the film and television circle, they were certainly well known; in financial circles and among investors, many still did not know.

Just as ordinary people wouldn't understand the inner workings of the physical enterprise world.

Of course, some individuals or investors had done their research beforehand and knew that TuPiaoPiao hosted Jade Rabbit's content and had Chang'e assisting with promotion.

With Shuijing Cinema Line as the final endpoint, it formed a complete industrial chain.

Each person spoke for only a few minutes, after which the ceremony began.

As time passed, a large bronze gong had been placed at the center of the stage, suspended by a wooden frame that reflected dazzling light.

The frame bore the words "Hong Kong Stock Exchange," while a large screen behind displayed the TuPiaoPiao logo and its stock code.

A red carpet covered the stage, and the large screen showed the time, inching closer with each passing second.

Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian stood beside the stage steps, waiting for the bell-ringing ceremony to begin.

Behind them stood a group of men in black suits, each wearing a small red badge and a name tag.

"Two minutes remain. Please welcome with enthusiastic applause Fang Hong, founder and Chairman of TuPiaoPiao, and actress representative Liu Tianxian, to the stage to prepare for the bell-ringing opening."

A rich, magnetic female host's voice echoed throughout the venue—she was not visible, serving merely as an announcer.

Those seated or standing in the audience turned their gazes toward the stage.

Media journalists aimed their cameras, and stage lights flashed continuously.

As uplifting music swelled, Fang Hong adjusted his suit and walked onto the red stage with Liu Tianxian.

They stood on either side of the bronze gong, facing the audience, and two female staff members in skirts handed each of them a gong mallet.

The mallet handles were about the length of a human arm, with a rounded striking end wrapped in red cloth.

Such mallets required both hands to hold.

This was Liu Tianxian's first time doing this, and she felt deeply excited.

The audience below consisted of celebrities, dignitaries, and financial elites—no ordinary cheers, no fan frenzy.

Only admiration remained: admiration for going public, admiration for striking the gong—this was inherently a thrilling moment.

"We now invite our distinguished guests, including company executives, roadshow teams, and representatives of TuPiaoPiao's partners—those with blue badges on their name tags—to come onstage and witness this exhilarating moment."

As the female host's voice sounded again.

Zheng Zhihao, Chen Shaohui, Yin Hong, and several other executives ascended the stage and lined up in a row beside Fang Hong.

Then Gao Zhun, Lin Ning, Wanda's representative, Tencent's representative, Meituan's representative, and other investment partners stepped up and lined up in a row beside Liu Tianxian.

Lei Bus did not come—he was away on business.

The music continued, lights flashed endlessly, and everyone on stage stood tall, facing the guests with upright postures.

Some wore expressions of joy, others excitement; Zheng Zhihao's face betrayed anticipation.

"When there are ten seconds left before opening, I will invite everyone here to count down with me," said the host.

The large screen behind displayed 9:29:30—only thirty seconds remained.

The guests in the audience, watching the numbers on the screen, put down their work and fell silent.

Liu Tianxian held her breath, took a deep breath; beside her, Gao Zhun remained calm.

"Are you ready? Let's begin the countdown: ten, nine, eight."

Hearing the call, Fang Hong stepped two paces to the side, moving closer to the gong—better leverage, his grip tightening on the mallet.

Last night in bed, he'd said he felt nothing, but now, as the moment to strike arrived, his heart still pounded.

Mostly because he'd never experienced it—this immersive moment, this atmosphere, couldn't help but stir his emotions.

Liu Tianxian also stepped two paces toward the gong, raised her mallet, and prepared to strike.

Her heart raced with excitement.

They stood only a few steps apart; Liu Tianxian glanced at Fang Hong, her eyes alight with exhilaration—she couldn't help but be thrilled.

"Three, two, one."

Liu Tianxian and Fang Hong swung their mallets hard, striking the bronze gong with full force.

A thunderous "Bang!" echoed!

The venue erupted in loud "Clap-clap-clap!" applause, accompanied by increasingly soaring music.

Behind the screen, TuPiaoPiao's stock index appeared in green—green meant rising in Hong Kong, red meant falling.

Clearly, many had bought.

"Once again, congratulations to TuPiaoPiao on its successful listing on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange. Please all gather together and face our photographer for several more photos to commemorate this exhilarating moment."

The two lines moved closer; Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian stood in the center, holding their mallets, shoulder to shoulder.

Facing the photographer directly, they both raised their thumbs.

Liu Tianxian wore a radiant smile.

But everyone else looked much the same—faces lit with celebration; Fang Hong was very happy.

"Once again, congratulations to TuPiaoPiao—please invite President Li Xiaojia to join us for one more group photo."

The host had intended to end, but seeing Li Xiaojia ascend, she paused mid-sentence and changed her script.

After stepping onto the stage, Li Xiaojia shook hands with Fang Hong, then without ceremony squeezed himself right between them.

Liu Tianxian gave a faint look of resignation, pursed her lips slightly, yet maintained her graceful smile as she shifted slightly aside.

Beside her, Gao Zhun had to twist his body to make room for the boss's wife.

The stage lights continued to flash, but Li Xiaojia wasn't satisfied—he pulled Liu Tianxian's arm and switched places with her.

This little old man was extremely easygoing, completely at ease, as if he were in his own home.

But the Hong Kong Stock Exchange's General Manager? That was his own house.

Liu Tianxian now stood beside Fang Hong, their positions closer together for photos.

After the photos, Li Xiaojia gestured to them, then stepped down from the stage.

"Thank you all, thank you General Manager Li Xiaojia, thank you Ms. Liu Tianxian, and all the distinguished guests. Please return to the guest area for now. General Fang, please stay behind—we will now proceed with the commemorative gift presentation ceremony."

At this voice, everyone else descended from the stage; Fang Hong remained on it.

Liu Tianxian glanced at him, tugged his hand, then followed the crowd down the stage.

"Please welcome Mr. Liu, member of the Hong Kong Listing Committee, to the stage to present the Hong Kong Exchange commemorative gift to Tu Piao Piao. General Fang, please accept it."

As the host spoke, a short man in a suit stepped onto the stage—he was indeed very short; Fang Hong was nearly a head taller than him.

He presented Fang Hong with a bronze bull; the two posed for a commemorative photo.

With this, the Tu Piao Piao listing ceremony was fully completed.

Tu Piao Piao's initial offering price per share was HK$14.80; within half an hour, the stock price rose to HK$15.30, an increase of HK$0.50 per share.

But then it stopped rising and began to decline, falling steadily from HK$15.30 to HK$14.60.

It broke issue price—lower than the opening price by HK$0.20!

"Breaking issue price" means trading below the opening price—that's what it's called. Neidi capital had high expectations, but Hong Kong institutional investors lacked sufficient confidence.

In plain terms, this market simply has no money—that's why it's called the "curse of breaking issue price": too few retail investors, and institutions are far too cautious.

With so few people, how many retail investors could there possibly be?

Fortunately, in the afternoon, the price settled back near HK$14.70—still below issue price, unable to recover.

This is normal. Hong Kong's breakage rate exceeds 50%—meaning, of ten listed companies, at least half break issue price.

Tu Piao Piao is fundamentally a loss-making enterprise, and not a real industry one—it's a tech company.

Even Xiaomi's later listing broke issue price; even with such strong performance, it broke. This market is simply strange.

In truth, Hong Kong is indifferent to tech companies—they lack the genetic DNA for tech. Just look at the families of Li Jiacheng, Li Zhaoji, and Zheng Yutong.

All of them started in real estate; even their industrial ventures are hotels and ports—none ventured into high-tech.

But so what if it broke issue price? It's not a big deal—just a lack of market confidence, and slightly less fundraising.

Yet the media reporters were ecstatic, launching massive propaganda campaigns!

"Tu Piao Piao listed—broke issue price!"

"Just now! Tu Piao Piao listed, broke issue price within half an hour!"

"Broke issue price on listing day—investors are already in loss!"

"Liu Tianxian rang the bell, and Tu Piao Piao broke issue price on its first day—how is she doing?"

"Tu Piao Piao broke issue price—Liu Tianxian's hammer vaporized HK$450 million!"

No one knew what connection Liu Tianxian had to this.

Whether or not Liu Tianxian was there, the stock would have broken issue price—it was due to market conditions. Hong Kong's stock market is just like this.

But the media always loves dragging her into everything—as if the breakage were her fault.

Some fortune-tellers even claimed Liu Tianxian's birth八字 was inauspicious for Tu Piao Piao's listing—who knows how they calculated that.

Wangyi just watched for amusement; those who understand, understand—Hong Kong's stock market is just like this. Those who don't won't understand no matter how you explain.

Amid the chaos of the Hong Kong Stock Exchange, seeing Tu Piao Piao fall below its issue price, everyone scrambled to find Principal and Liu Tianxian, wanting to interview them, to get their take on the situation, on the problems.

Fang Hong and his team were now dodging reporters, surrounded and chased before they'd even left the Hong Kong Stock Exchange.

There was no choice—they didn't want to deal with it, so they hid inside a storage room at the Hong Kong Stock Exchange, leaving Zheng Zhihao and others to handle it.

They'd come out only after things had calmed down.

Fang Hong, Liu Tianxian, and Gao Zhun sat on the steps of the storage room, exchanging weary smiles—they never imagined such a glorious, exciting listing would turn out so messy.

Liu Tianxian also found it amusing; she tapped Fang Hong's arm and said, "Hey, why did it break issue price?"

They'd put in so much effort beforehand, all so confident—yet the stock broke issue price before even rising for long. It made no sense.

"Because Hong Kong is poor. It can't afford it," Fang Hong said.

"Be serious," Liu Tianxian clicked her tongue, telling him to speak properly.

"The Principal is right," Gao Zhun explained. "Hong Kong's stock market has limited liquidity, and Hong Kong shows no interest in tech stocks. On top of that, Tu Piao Piao is loss-making. Multiple factors led to the breakage."

"But Tu Piao Piao has Jade Rabbit and Chang'e protecting it, and Xiaomi and Micro-Innovation as cornerstone investors—how could this happen?" Liu Tianxian asked.

"It won't help. Even if you brought Tencent and Alibaba, they couldn't buy up every share—it's a market behavior."

Gao Zhun added, "If one person or one company could influence the market, then that company's market cap would be the highest—everyone else might as well quit."

Liu Tianxian nodded, as if she understood, yet as if she didn't.

"So what do we do now?" she asked.

"It's fine. Breaking issue price means nothing—it's just like opening a shop with bad luck at first, slow sales. It won't affect anything. Keep developing," Fang Hong said, unconcerned.

Even if it broke issue price, the company still had to develop—only its market cap had shrunk slightly.

The originally planned market cap was HK$30 billion; now it had dipped below that, standing at HK$29.55 billion.

It had only dropped a little—just an unlucky opening. We'll see what the closing price is today—whether it can rebound.

Many stocks broke issue price on day one but surged later.

For example, Mixue Bingcheng and Xiaomi—both did the same. Breaking issue price doesn't mean anything—it just shakes people's confidence.

It's just a bit regrettable for those investors. Xiaomi's placement price was HK$14.80, raising HK$3.507 billion.

Not bad—this was only the institutional placement shares. There's still around HK$400 million raised in the secondary market.

And the underwriters still hold shares.

This round of fundraising should reach about 4 billion, and we're not selling slowly—no surprises here.

Hong Kong's stock market is just experiencing low liquidity today; it's not going to be illiquid tomorrow.

Four billion in capital is already substantial in the film and television market—it's enough to make a big move, to command attention.

Outside, Zheng Zhihao and the others barely managed to fend off the reporters, while Fang Hong and his team slipped out the side door.

They met with several cornerstone investors.

It was the same luxury private room, with the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the beautiful Victoria Harbour.

A large round table, laden with fine wine and gourmet dishes.

Fang Hong raised his glass and apologized: "General Manager Lei, General Manager Lin—I'm sorry to have disappointed you."

"No problem, it's exactly what we expected. So many companies list on the Hong Kong Exchange; half of them break below their offering price." Lin Ning of Micro-Innovation waved his hand.

Even if it breaks below offering price, it's still the second-largest market cap in ticketing platforms—the first is Ali Pictures, worth over sixty billion.

This is a bubble forming; fundamentally, Ali Pictures isn't worth that much—it's just that RabbitTicket has a lock-up period.

Ali Pictures didn't exist before—it was formerly Culture China. After Alibaba acquired it, they renamed it Ali Pictures; this company was already publicly listed.

And it's been listed for many years—since 2001.

If RabbitTicket has a bubble, it will definitely rise—it's just a matter of time.

The film and television market at this time is like this; it hasn't yet returned to rationality.

The others nodded and smiled, unconcerned about RabbitTicket breaking below offering price.

If you plan to list on the Hong Kong Exchange, you must accept the risk of breaking below offering price—that's how the market is; liquidity is limited.

"Just manage it well going forward—it'll rebound. This is just a small thing."

Lei Bus said with a laugh: "I checked—when my Xiaomi lists, I suspect it'll face the same issue."

"How could that be? General Manager Lei, your Xiaomi phones are so popular—you've sold so many." Liu Tianxian comforted him.

Xiaomi sold over seventy million units this year, holding the top market share domestically—but Xiaomi is losing money; it sells too cheaply, with razor-thin margins.

In the early stages of industry development, everything is expensive, and many components are still imported—including memory.

Once the industry matures and domestic supply chains and technologies are established, prices will naturally drop.

"It's not about selling more to make money—in the early market, the strategy is low profit, high volume. Besides, since we just listed, I wanted to raise as much capital as possible—but there's no money in the stock market." Lei Bus returned to the topic of Hong Kong's lack of capital.

He added: "If my Xiaomi lists in the future, Principal, I hope you'll be my cornerstone investor."

"No problem, General Manager Lei—just say the word, I'll come alone to hold the stock for you." Fang Hong appeared generous.

Xiaomi is destined to rise; when it succeeds in car manufacturing, Xiaomi's stock will surge, and then we can sell.

By the time Xiaomi lists, Chang'e Technology will have risen as a global internet enterprise.

In the previous life, Xiaomi listed in 2018; in this life, it'll likely be similar—the mobile phone industry hasn't been affected by his presence in any meaningful way.

He hasn't participated in the mobile phone industry's competition.

"Haha, good, I'll take you seriously then." Lei Bus laughed heartily.

"Serious, serious—I've got a wealthy woman at home; I can't control her, but my wife can." Fang Hong slapped Liu Tianxian on the shoulder.

Liu Tianxian turned her head, lips pursed, as if she didn't recognize him.

This gesture made the others burst into laughter—it was rather endearing.

But everyone understood what Principal meant: their Liu Tianxian controls the finances.

With Principal's current net worth, it's rare among entrepreneurs to entrust their wealth entirely to their wife—most sign prenuptial agreements to protect themselves.

After all, no one knows what the future holds, or whether the person beside them might betray them.

And in this circle, women grabbing assets are too common; emotional conflicts are too frequent—just like Fang Long once said, he never trusted women, always thinking they deceived.

Fang Long's level should be quite high, right?

But then again, didn't Fang Long still hand over financial control to his wife?

Everything depends on the person—it's not a blanket rule.

As those present ate and chatted, this capital dinner concluded.

Whether RabbitTicket would rise later, and by how much, depended on market reaction—but at closing that day, it had only dropped by one dime.

The next day, it rose again, surpassing thirty billion in market cap!

(End of Chapter)