Chinese share prices took a hit on Thursday with the Shanghai Stock Exchange (SSE) reporting its steepest decline in nearly six years. Aside from this inevitable correction - what goes up must always come down - China's market in recent months has been a raging bull, or should we say ox.

The feverish Shanghai Composite Index, for example, has risen from 2,000 points in October to nearly 5,000 points at the middle of last week. Countless investors have claimed that they are seeing their capital sums doubled or even tripled within just a few weeks. Millionaires in the making.

According to a leading domestic financial service provider, during the first four months of this year, stock investors in China on average profited 13,960 yuan ($2,252) per capita. Shanghai ranked first among all provinces and municipalities, with the local investors earning on average 156,400 yuan.

In April, both of China's two exchanges saw nearly 5 million new A-share accounts opened. In Shanghai especially, the passion for investing in the stock market is at an all-time high, and the greed that has overcome ordinary residents here is almost palpable.

Just a few floors downstairs from the Global Times, where a securities company happens to have an office, a high-spirited stream of retirees can be seen making punctual visits throughout the day to cash in on their portfolios or reinvest in new offerings. It's comical to picture these gossiping grannies sitting in the doorways of their longtang debating the valuation of 1818-SZ or whether to hold or sell ICBC, but that's exactly what's occurring.

On morning metro commutes, nobody is playing Fantasy Westward Journey anymore; now the new trendy game is SSE. The faces of nearly every other passenger glow green and red from the real-time stock tickers on their tablet devices.

Every morning at People's Square, near the Shenwan Hongyuan Securities office, droves of locals can be seen expounding investing advice and whispering supposedly "insider" secrets to each other. Though many of their claims are dubious, gauging from the animated atmosphere, trading stocks has become the city's new obsession.

After many years of stagnation, the sudden reversal of fortune of the Chinese stock market sent everyone scrambling. Everyone was afraid of missing out on the next golden opportunity. Even people with absolutely no prior investing experience - or sufficient savings to spend - did not hesitate to get in on the latest hot stock.

A classmate of mine, who spent all her savings on a new apartment, recently borrowed an additional 100,000 yuan to invest in the market. On Thursday, when the Shanghai exchange plunged 6.5 percent, she lost 7,000 yuan in the blink of an eye.

China's stock market is notoriously volatile, but over-confident new investors seem to be ignoring the potentially high risks. A friend's colleague just sold his apartment for 300,000 yuan less than the market price so he could come up with the cash to make a "sure thing" investment.

I envy those who understand the science of stocks and can analyze company data to make a smart investment in a solid company. But what I can't wrap my head around is this compulsion to check tickers all day long, glancing at a phone nearly every minute to monitor the ceaseless fluctuations of candlestick charts. When anything affects the passion of our profession and the attention of our surroundings this much, it's time for a reality check. Perhaps Thursday was a sign.

I get that to get rich is glorious, and in these up-ticking times, there's no better opportunity to try your hand at investing. As Xiaomi founder Lei Jun once said, "When the wind is big enough, even pigs can fly." But this obsession is turning a city condemned for its insatiable need for material gain into a veritable trading pit of open-outcry avariciousness. Is that really what we have become?