The XP Energy project officially began. Due to the tight timeline, Ding Zhitong was still assigned to work under Deborah. There were two analysts in the team: herself and JV. The most tedious groundwork was assigned to them, with JV guiding her through the tasks.
As she had anticipated, it turned out to be a long, arduous battle.
Ding Zhitong had never worked on projects related to the oil and gas industry or stock issuance. While she could manage during the pitching phase through self-study, she increasingly needed guidance as the project progressed. However, JV had no intention of being a good mentor. He didn’t refuse to teach, but deliberately delayed his instructions. He would wait for Ding Zhitong to make mistakes before correcting her, always in writing via email, copying Deborah who had assigned the tasks.
As for working hours, it was business as usual. JV seemed tireless, sending pages of comments at all hours, demanding immediate revisions. Ding Zhitong had no choice but to comply, eating all three meals at her desk while calculating various ratios and munching on burgers, sandwiches, or burritos. Her commute essentially became “go today, return tomorrow.”
Her communication with Gan Yang remained limited, as it had been recently. If she worked late, she would send him a message around 11 PM, saying she was home, too tired, and would call him the next noon.
The hard work wasn’t an issue; she was used to it from her studies and internships. What Ding Zhitong feared most was being set up or taking the blame for others. JV’s character made her feel like she was walking on thin ice.
She wanted to talk to someone, but Gan Yang wasn’t a good choice. Not only could he not offer any constructive advice, but her lies might also be exposed. As for her other two friends working on Wall Street, it had been a while since she’d seen them. Feng Sheng had officially become a trader, and Song Mingmei had started her job, suddenly changing departments before starting to join the coveted “Special Projects Group.” Understandably, they were all busy.
They finally managed to find a time when all three were free and met for burgers at Shake Shack in Madison Square, catching up briefly.
During that period, financial media was full of industry insiders’ disputes. One day, news would break about a company’s insufficient capital and leverage as high as 30 times, causing public uproar. The next day, another company with 60 times leverage would appear, raising everyone’s psychological tolerance and making the former seem unremarkable.
In this climate, the secondary market was most visibly impacted, and stories about new traders were plentiful.
L Bank’s financial technology, claiming to be number one on Wall Street, had all its quantitative models designed based on rational behavior. But what good was rationality when people were fleeing for their lives? It wasn’t just individual orders going out of controls; even large hedge funds were liquidating assets to save themselves, regardless of losses. Losing money hurt, but not doing so meant not surviving until tomorrow. The market swung wildly, defaults occurred one after another, and all models failed. Even seasoned traders on the trading floor couldn’t make sense of it.
Feng Sheng was in the thick of it. He said, “Now when I get a call from sales asking for a quote, even if I judge that I should buy, I secretly hope it doesn’t go through by a small margin.”
“Why hope it doesn’t go through?” Song Mingmei asked, and Ding Zhitong didn’t understand either.
Feng Sheng self-deprecatingly replied, “If it’s just a small margin off, it means my quoted price was competitive, which looks good for a new trader. Plus, I don’t have to worry about any weird situations after the transaction and losing money.”
“Are you always this cowardly?” Song Mingmei teased him.
Feng Sheng didn’t mind and joked, “I guess there are too many cowards these days. Even playing it safe doesn’t work anymore. Proactive sell orders are executed at buy prices everywhere. Even if buyers offer low prices, sellers are willing to lower prices to sell proactively. Whatever price I quote gets executed.”
Listening to this, Ding Zhitong felt uneasy. She suddenly realized that the binary choice she had faced earlier still weighed on her mind. She sincerely hoped Feng Sheng would work smoothly, learn, progress, and make big money at L Bank, so she wouldn’t have to feel guilty.
Perhaps sensing something, Feng Sheng added, “But I’m quite happy working there. I’m increasingly realizing that I’m more suited for trading.”
“Really?” Song Mingmei and Ding Zhitong were skeptical. The trading floor had quite a reputation, and Feng Sheng didn’t seem like the gambling type.
Feng Sheng looked at Ding Zhitong and said, “Of course it’s true. The senior guys in my team even say I’m lucky.”
Ding Zhitong asked why.
Feng Sheng smiled and answered, “Traders who lose big money are subject to internal investigations, but with the market being so bad, it’s hard to attribute losses to individual negligence. Plus, having experienced this kind of situation, I won’t panic no matter what I face in the future. If I lose money, I’ll consider it tuition – more valuable than attending business school.”
Whether this was true or exaggerated, Ding Zhitong felt somewhat comforted. She then began her venting, 99% about JV.
Song Mingmei had heard about this Indian colleague before and felt that it was no longer just a matter of enduring. She advised Ding Zhitong to be extremely careful in the coming days.
“Is it that serious?” Ding Zhitong was startled by this wording.
Song Mingmei analyzed the situation for her: “You heard what Feng Sheng just said about the current situation out there. Someone like JV, who can’t get promoted and whose salary is higher than junior analysts, might be on the chopping block if there’s a wave of layoffs later this year or early next year. This kind of person worries about teaching their skills and losing their position. Moreover, if you run into any issues and he steps in to save the day, it could highlight his value, with you ending up as the scapegoat.”
Ding Zhitong was stunned. Song Mingmei’s prediction was dark but very plausible.
As analysts, they would be assigned to different projects, and each project leader would grade their performance. Deborah was a busy person who managed loosely, only looking at the final output without caring about who was right or wrong between her and JV. Besides, investment banking was all about dealing with people. If someone couldn’t handle internal team conflicts, what use were they?
Feng Sheng also offered advice: “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. If that person does anything excessive, keep evidence and complain immediately.”
Ding Zhitong nodded, knowing he meant well, but upon reflection, JV’s behavior hadn’t reached that point yet.
Unable to think of a solution for the moment, she decided to let it go temporarily and instead asked Song Mingmei, “How’s the Special Projects Group?”
Unable to discuss specifics of her work, Song Mingmei gossiped generally: “There are many Harvard-MIT-Stanford PhDs, some transferred from IBD strategy groups, others are university professors turned economists. Looking around, I’m the only fresh graduate.”
“That’s great!” Ding Zhitong was happy for her; at least one of the three was doing well.
But Song Mingmei continued: “But you’ll never guess what I’m doing.”
“What?” Ding Zhitong was curious.
Song Mingmei listed off: “I’ve been reading countless related materials, like pig inventory numbers, slaughter volumes, pork consumption, local pig market prices, soybean meal, and corn futures prices. I’ve studied blue ear disease, high fever disease, streptococcus suis, and various swine fevers. In a while, I might be able to open a pig farm.”
The three of them laughed together. While it seemed incongruous for Song Mingmei to be doing this, it completely aligned with recent market expectations and even related to the energy project Ding Zhitong was working on.
With the US dollar depreciating and oil prices soaring, agricultural and primary products were also consistently bullish. Those holding gold could set the rules, but in times of famine, the so-called gold was no longer various banknotes, but oil, minerals, and food, especially the latter. A time of famine might truly be coming.
Chatting with friends temporarily made Ding Zhitong forget some of her worries, but after the meal, she still had to go back and deal with JV.
The first version of the XP Energy valuation was complete, but after reviewing it, Deborah felt the multiple wasn’t quite right and asked them to do more comparable company research in the industry.
At that time, there were still two days until the deadline, which wasn’t too tight. Moreover, there was an outsourcing team to help with the comparable research. Ding Zhitong only needed to submit a request, wait for the results, and then double-check the numbers herself. If there were no issues, she could use it.
Upon receiving Deborah’s email, she immediately found several comparable companies on Bloomberg, wrote out the requirements clearly, and sent them over. The other side confirmed they could deliver the next day. However, when she received the reply the next day, she found that one of the ten companies was incorrect. The outsourcing team worked 24/7 in three shifts. When she called, it was already a different person who said there was a mistake during the handover and they would urgently help her revise it. This took up most of another day.
After all this hassle, it was already dark when she received the results. Having experienced the unreliability of outsourcing, Ding Zhitong didn’t dare to be careless. She downloaded the financial data of those comparable companies from Bloomberg herself and spent several hours cross-checking each number with the financial reports, before finally sending it to JV.
While waiting for JV to review, she looked at the time and, following her usual practice, sent a message to Gan Yang saying she was home, going to sleep, and would call tomorrow.
JV checked it once more and couldn’t find any issues, so he finally pasted the numbers into the document and sent it to Deborah.
Ms. Dai, unlike JV, wouldn’t necessarily give comments immediately requiring them to revise overnight. Seeing the email, Ding Zhitong breathed a sigh of relief, thinking she could finally leave work early today. Of course, “early” meant before midnight.
Just as she was about to pack up and leave, her phone on the desk vibrated, displaying “A-Gan” on the screen. She then realized she hadn’t received a reply to the message she sent half an hour ago, which was completely unlike usual.
The office was very quiet late at night, with JV still sitting behind her. She took her phone to the break room, and as soon as she answered, she heard him ask, “Tongtong, where are you now?”
His voice carried both worry and confusion.
“I…” Ding Zhitong was at a loss for words, immediately guessing that she had been caught out. Gan Yang had probably pulled his usual trick of suddenly coming to New York and was now standing in the Upper West Side apartment, looking at the empty room, unwashed clothes from days ago, and takeout containers.
“I’m still at the company, something came up just as I was about to leave…” she tried to explain.
The other end was quiet for a moment as if relieved, but also something more. After a good two seconds, he said, “I have an interview tomorrow morning, so I came over tonight… When do you think you’ll be off work? I’ll come pick you up.”
She had been caught out.
Ding Zhitong’s heart sank. She was thinking about rushing back to explain to him, but her BlackBerry also vibrated twice. She picked it up to look and, sure enough, misfortunes never come singly – it was Deborah’s reply, a whole screen of comments. It wasn’t that they had made mistakes, but XP Energy wasn’t satisfied with the valuation multiple, and higher-ups had decided to approach it from a different angle. Everything had to be redone from scratch.
“It might… take a while longer. You should sleep first, don’t affect your interview tomorrow,” she said with difficulty.
The other end was silent, only the sound of breathing could be heard, but finally, he answered, “Alright, come back early.”
Hanging up the phone, Ding Zhitong stood alone in the break room, guilt, dejection, and frustration all surging up at once. In the end, the desire to keep her job won out. She rubbed her face hard, hurried back to the office area, sat down at her desk, and listened to JV’s arrangements on how to overhaul the past few days’ work and do it all over again.
It was already 4 AM when she returned to the apartment.
She opened the door, and unlike usual, the room wasn’t pitch black. A light was left on for her in the living room. Gan Yang was sleeping soundly on the bed, one arm hugging a pillow, the blanket kicked to the side, exposing a bit.
Ding Zhitong was exhausted and a bit dazed, but she still stood there quietly smiling. After a cursory wash-up, she turned off the lights and lay down, moving close to him. Without opening his eyes, he seemed to sense something, tossed the pillow aside, and reached out to hug her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gan Yang asked, half asleep.
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Ding Zhitong murmured in response.
“How many times has this happened?” Gan Yang asked again.
“Quite a few times…” she confessed honestly, closing her eyes but not allowing herself to fall asleep immediately, just nestling in his embrace, feeling perfectly content.