Singapore's largest stock market manipulation case has reached the end of the road: the Court of Appeal has upheld the convictions and sentences of the two masterminds behind the scheme that wiped out billions in market value in October 2013.

On March 18, 2026, the apex court upheld 36 years' imprisonment for Soh Chee Wen — better known as John Soh — and 20 years for his co-accused Quah Su-Ling, rejecting their appeals against both conviction and sentence. The pair were found guilty of 180 and 169 charges respectively for orchestrating an elaborate scheme to manipulate the shares of Blumont Group, Asiasons Capital and LionGold Corp.

The mechanics were audacious. Using a web of 187 trading accounts, the duo artificially inflated the three counters, then used the manipulated shares as collateral for margin financing — deceiving even Goldman Sachs International and Interactive Brokers in the process. When the bubble burst in October 2013, the crash erased billions and shook confidence in the Singapore Exchange.

Dismissing the appeals, the Court of Appeal described Soh's actions as having "caused very significant harm to the market and its stakeholders" and having "severely harmed Singapore's reputation as a financial hub." The court rejected Soh's argument that the crash was caused by factors beyond his control.

The 36-year term is among the longest ever handed down for market misconduct anywhere in the world, and its affirmation sends an unmistakable signal: Singapore will jail market manipulators for essentially the rest of their working lives. More than a decade after the penny-stock crash, the case remains the defining scandal of the SGX — and now, definitively, a closed one.

The October 2013 crash remains seared into the memory of Singapore's market. Over three frenzied trading days, Blumont, Asiasons and LionGold — stocks that had soared on little fundamental justification — lost roughly S$8 billion in combined market value, devastating retail investors who had piled in at the top. The crash exposed how easily a coordinated operator could game a market with thin surveillance, and it battered the Singapore Exchange's reputation for years.

Regulators responded with the heaviest reforms in the SGX's modern history: minimum trading prices to curb penny-stock manipulation, circuit breakers, enhanced broker surveillance and tougher disclosure rules. The reforms worked, by most accounts — but they were locking the stable door after the billions had bolted.

The 36-year sentence upheld for Soh is extraordinary by any global standard; few market manipulators anywhere have received terms remotely comparable. It reflects Singapore's philosophy that financial crime is an existential threat to a city-state whose entire economic model rests on trust. More than a decade on, the penny-stock crash still defines the outer limit of what Singapore will tolerate — and what it will do to those who cross it.