Ding Zhitong never imagined that the first time they’d say “love” to each other would be in such a mundane scenario, reeking of overtime work. Yet, the perfect timing touched her heart deeply.
Thus began Ding Zhitong’s work in M Bank’s product group. The staffer responsible for personnel allocation—the same one who had called to inform her about the early end of training—led her to meet DeborAh the VP of the product group. Miss Dai, despite her Asian features, was only about thirty years old and bore an unmistakably Anglo-Saxon surname. Even her speech carried a pure New England accent.
Deborah exchanged pleasantries with Ding, mentioning her Harvard background before inquiring about Ding’s alma mater, internship experiences, and training impressions. This seemed to be the standard opening for conversations here, whether during interviews or training. Ding increasingly felt that name-dropping one’s school was a tradition, like a greeting. Her unease probably stemmed from her less prestigious educational background.
Miss Dai explained that due to a winter intern’s sudden departure, Ding was brought in early from training to focus on a specific project. It involved directed private placement financing for an Oklahoma-based natural gas company called “XP Energy.” The oil and gas industry and securities capital markets were unfamiliar territory for Ding, leaving her puzzled by most of the technical terms.
Before Ding could ask questions, Deborah led her to a cubicle in the open office area, entrusting her to a senior analyst next door. Glancing at her watch, Deborah hurried off with an open laptop and a rolling suitcase, likely rushing to a meeting or catching a flight. It was the off-season, meaning pitches were being made everywhere.
Her new neighbor was an Indian man, noticeably older than her. Wearing glasses and speaking accent-free English, he was likely a second-generation immigrant. He introduced himself as JV, stating his full name was too long.
JV looked tired and aloof but had prepared the new employee welcome package. He handed her confidential envelopes containing login information for Bloomberg, Factset, and Capital IQ, instructing her to change passwords herself. Before she could finish, her first assignment landed in her inbox.
Unsurprisingly, Ding’s task involved assisting JV—screening comparable companies and transactions on Bloomberg, researching, extracting data, organizing databases, and performing basic calculations. She couldn’t touch the models or draft text.
Ding understood this was standard for newcomers, much like how Feng Sheng was responsible for powering machines on and off on the trading floor. However, diving into work without understanding the context felt disconcerting, like being an extra in “Cube” who wouldn’t survive the first ten percent. JV seemed unwilling to explain details, providing only fragmented information when she asked, his tone suggesting she was wasting time.
Ding felt this treatment was even worse than her summer internship, where she had learned quite a bit despite not receiving a return offer. But being her first day, she refrained from jumping to conclusions, assuming JV’s foul mood might be due to working late.
Suddenly, it was 1 PM, and Gan Yang called. His interview must have ended, and he was waiting to have lunch with her. Ding, startled out of her work trance, quickly silenced her phone and texted back: “Busy, can’t have lunch with you.”
He replied, “You still need to eat, no matter how busy.”
Ding responded with what he wanted to hear: “I’ll grab some fast food later. Trying to finish early so I don’t have to work late.”
Gan Yang finally relented, sending a grumpy emoji.
“How was the interview?” Ding asked, broaching the sensitive subject.
After a long pause, Gan Yang replied: “…It was okay.”
Knowing him, “okay” likely meant it didn’t go well. Ding didn’t press further, simply saying, “Head back to school then. Take care on the way.”
After exchanging a few more messages to appease her boyfriend, Ding turned to JV, attempting small talk: “Want to grab lunch together?”
Without turning, he replied, “No, thanks.”
Remembering Feng Sheng’s joke, Ding decided to buy lunch downstairs. Considering JV might be vegetarian, she bought two salads and coffees, offering one to him.
JV just gave her an odd look and repeated, “No, thanks.”
Resigned, Ding saved the extra salad and coffee for her dinner.
The afternoon passed in a blur of finding, inputting, and verifying numbers. Despite sitting less than two meters apart, JV communicated with her mostly through typing, either asking for progress updates or assigning new tasks.
As night fell, Ding checked her silenced phone to find a string of messages from Gan Yang:
17:30 – I’m here.
19:00 – Have you eaten?
20:30 – Off work yet?
…
Frustrated, Ding replied: “Not yet. You know these questions make me anxious, right?”
Worried her response was too harsh, she quickly added: “I’ve bought food and will eat soon. Trying to finish early. Love you.”
She hesitated over those last two words, typing and deleting them multiple times like a PowerPoint slide revised countless times.
Unsure if it was too soon, she wondered how he’d react. To her surprise, Gan Yang’s reply came almost instantly: “Got it. I’ll say it all at once. Remember to eat, don’t take the subway if it’s late, take a cab home. Love you.”
Reading his message, Ding could almost hear him saying it in one breath. She smiled at her computer screen like a child with a secret.
It wasn’t a big deal. She just never imagined their first “I love you” would happen in such an ordinary, overtime-laden scenario. Yet the perfect timing touched her heart.
Her first day of work ended after midnight.
Ding completed all her tasks, meticulously checking text and number formats, formulas, links, currencies, quantities, and the logical relationships between ratios. She triple-checked everything, literally marking each item three times on paper.
Naturally careless as a child, even forgetting the last character of her name, Ding had been trained through studies, internships, and interviews to accept any level of scrutiny. It had become almost a conditioned reflex, undoubtedly influenced by the power of money.
After her thorough check, she submitted her work to JV, only to receive some comments. Fortunately, they were mostly about decimal places, which he hadn’t specified earlier.
Ding made the corrections and handed it back, thinking to herself, “How’s that? Better than an intern, right?”
JV, however, remained expressionless. Still seated and without turning, he said, “You can go now. Keep your BlackBerry and phone on.”
Speechless, Ding nodded and left the midnight office. The soundproof glass blocked out the city’s noise, leaving only the faint sound of keyboard strokes from unseen late workers.
Returning to her Upper West Side apartment in the early hours, Ding Zhitong texted Gan Yang: “Home now. Exhausted. Going to sleep.”
He quickly replied: “Sleep well. Good night.”
Ding felt comforted that he didn’t ask pointless questions like “Why so late?” Looking at his message, she thought about telling him earlier the next day when she got home, to avoid both of them staying up late.
After just five hours of sleep, she returned to work. At 8:30 AM, she found JV already at his desk, as if he’d never left, though he’d changed clothes.
The morning mirrored the previous day. They communicated almost exclusively through email and instant messages. JV assigned tasks, Ding completed them for his review, then revised them based on his comments. Her questions about the project remained unanswered.
At lunchtime, Ding called Gan Yang from the downstairs fast food restaurant. Distracted, she cut the conversation short. She then called Song Mingmei, describing the situation with JV and seeking advice.
“I can’t seem to connect with him. Should I try talking about cricket?” she wondered.
Song immediately cautioned, “Don’t! He might report you for racism.”
“Surely not…” Ding recalled buying him a vegetarian salad, wondering if that was also racist.
“He’s probably just unhappy. You can’t win,” Song explained.
“Why unhappy? I’ve just met him and haven’t done anything wrong,” Ding questioned.
Song analyzed, “You said he’s much older, right? Find out his age and how long he’s been an analyst. Some people switch careers late, and have the skills but not the personality to advance. They get frustrated seeing younger colleagues, but can’t bring themselves to leave.”
Ding saw the logic and asked, “What should I do?”
Song had no easy solution, only comfort: “Endure it. You can’t ask to switch projects, and even if you did, it wouldn’t help. Analysts are just tools; no one cares if you’re happy. Try to stay positive. You might not work with him on the next project. Plus, he might leave soon, either burning out or being let go.”
Ding felt a twinge of sympathy for JV, but then realized she was the one in a tough spot. If the pitch succeeded, she’d be working with him for months.
The problem remained unsolved after the call.
Ding reasoned that as this was her first deal as an analyst, not an intern or a mere tool, she couldn’t continue like this. With the VP in charge away, and direct communication potentially seen as overstepping, her only option was to figure things out herself.
The following days became even busier. On top of JV’s hefty assignments, she used her waiting time to study related emails, drafts, and models, teaching herself about natural gas and gaining a broader perspective.
International oil futures prices were soaring, doubling from $50 to over $100 per barrel in just a year.
2008 was a U.S. presidential election year. While some reports predicted a potential oil price drop if the Democratic candidate won in November, steady international demand led the market to expect prices to remain around $85 per barrel.
As oil prices climbed, natural gas and other energy products followed suit, creating a bull market amidst struggling industries.
With cash on hand and no shortage of buyers for newly issued stocks, plus plans for a series of acquisitions, “XP Energy” was a rare golden client in a sluggish market. Investment banks were undoubtedly pulling out all the stops to secure this deal.
M Bank, having been XP’s lead underwriter over a decade ago, was determined to win this business.
The first step was a successful pitch.
The outline discussed in meetings resembled a book in scope, divided between the industry and product groups, with only two weeks to complete. This urgency explained why Ding was suddenly pulled from training.
For an entire week, Ding left work between 2 and 3 AM, hastily showering before collapsing into bed until her 7 AM alarm. Her first instinct upon waking was to check her BlackBerry for accumulated emails.
Initially, Ding saw this as an opportunity to prove herself and possibly win JV over with her dedication. However, her efforts seemed to make no impression on him.
She understood the concepts of “face time” (staying visible in the office), PTTB (pretending to be busy), and FILO (first in, last out), having practiced them during internships. But JV was on another level entirely.
He was always there, replying to emails almost instantly, even at 4 AM or 6 AM. Ding wondered if he ever slept, ate, or even moved. She began to question if he survived photosynthesis.
Regardless of when she finished work, Ding always texted Gan Yang around 11 PM: “Home now. Exhausted. Going to sleep.” They’d exchange good nights. During lunch breaks the next day, she’d call to say everything was fine, keeping her struggles to herself.
With the pitch unfinished, their Chinese New Year plans were canceled. Gan Yang didn’t mind, playfully reminding her, “Valentine’s Day is in two weeks…”
Ding calculated and countered, “How about we meet the weekend of the Lantern Festival?”
Gan Yang protested, “Ding Zhitong, I’m asking you to spend Valentine’s Day together, and you’re suggesting the Lantern Festival?”
“Well…” Ding deflected, asking, “Don’t you like tangyuan? I quite enjoy them…”
“Honestly,” Gan Yang sighed, shaking his head, “If I didn’t know your job had such terrible hours, I’d suspect you had someone else in New York.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Ding scolded.
Unfazed, he thought for a moment and added, “You’re right. You wouldn’t settle for anyone else.”
His confidence made Ding laugh.