A mix of excitement and worry filled the air.
The Spring Festival of 2008 passed in a flurry of overtime work. The only notable difference from usual was that on New Year’s Eve, Ding Zhitong took advantage of her lunch break to make separate phone calls to her parents in China and America, wishing them a happy new year.
More and more compatriots were traveling abroad for the holiday each year. As usual, Yan Aihua was leading a tour group at the time. As the tour bus cruised down the highway and the group members dozed off, she lowered her iron-faced sunscreen and moved to the front row to chat with her daughter. Ironically, she felt freer than she would have at home, at least not having to hide from her current husband. The conversation ended only when the bus approached the next scenic spot and it was time to disembark for photos.
Compared to Yan Aihua, Ding Yanming in Shanghai had much more to say.
Proud of his daughter’s prestigious education and American job, Ding Yanming couldn’t help but boast to his factory colleagues: “Do you know about M Bank? It’s a top international investment bank, dealing with billion-dollar transactions in US currency. Multiply that by eight, and just imagine how much money that is…”
“Hold on, Old Ding,” someone intentionally challenged him. “The dollar has depreciated. Now it’s only worth about seven yuan.”
They were right. In 2007, the exchange rate was around 7.8 yuan to the dollar, which rounded up to 8. In just a year, it had dropped to 7.1, rounding down to 7.
Ding Yanming shrugged it off. “That doesn’t matter. My daughter earns and spends in dollars in America. What does the exchange rate matter? Besides, the dollar will bounce back eventually.”
Old Ding, a veteran stock investor since the 1990s, had heard countless theories about “value investing” and “fundamentals.” While he hadn’t mastered much, he had developed one unshakeable logic: as long as you don’t sell your falling stocks, you haven’t lost money.
Some colleagues flattered him: “Old Ding’s daughter is remarkable. Just graduated at 23, and already earning a million a year.”
“Million-yuan salary” has become a buzzword in recent years, especially in 2006 when the finance industry was booming and everyone was investing in stocks and funds. Later, as stocks plummeted and most funds yielded negative returns, the phrase remained popular.
After bragging outside, Ding Yanming joked with Ding Zhitong on the phone about others: “Remember Old Zhang? His daughter graduated from Tongji University this year like you, studied engineering but got a job at a securities firm. Still, she’s far behind you. Old Zhang even asked me if your company has showers as if it’s a state-owned factory like ours…”
Ding Zhitong listened to her father laugh, thinking that her workplace did have showers.
Next to the employee lounge was a shower room. After pulling an all-nighter, one could shower, change into clean clothes brought back from the laundry service, and start a new day, saving precious time and cab fare. Before the shower room was built, this routine of going home to freshen up before returning to work had a fanciful name: “The magic turnaround.”
At this point, she lost interest and time to chat further, so she asked her father directly: “Have you sold your stocks?”
Hearing this, Ding Yanming stammered, saying he’d talk about it later, and quickly said goodbye.
Since last year, this has become the father-daughter duo’s conversation ender.
Over the past year, while the dollar kept falling, the A-shares resembled a roller coaster, plummeting from 4,000 to 3,000, then soaring to 6,000, before heading downward again. Ding Zhitong had advised her father several times to cash out, but he never listened and ended up trapped. But since it wasn’t a large sum, he decided to hold on. His logic remained: it’s not a real loss until you sell.
Though stocks were a frequent topic, Ding Zhitong knew she couldn’t blame her father.
People often assumed that those studying finance had better insight, but looking back, she realized she too had embarked on this gold rush in 2006. Like her, many students eager to enter the industry probably understood that such good times couldn’t last forever, yet they still flocked in droves. When it comes to money, few can resist temptation, and economic laws are as immutable as physical ones.
After the New Year greetings, she returned to her computer. The final version of XP Energy was submitted at 7 am the next morning. Ding Zhitong experienced her first true “all-nighter.” She had long removed her contact lenses and switched to glasses, but her eyes were still alarmingly red, and her body felt cold. Too shy to shower at the office and utterly exhausted, she took a cab home, slept for two hours, and was back in the office by 11 am.
Nevertheless, after countless reviews, annotations, and revisions, the pitch book that had gone through over a dozen versions was finally approved. An MD from the industry group, Mr. Mac, who served as the coverage banker (similar to a project manager) for this project, gave his nod of approval. Deborah then packed her suitcase and flew with him to Ohio to pursue business opportunities.
Ding Zhitong breathed a sigh of relief. With only some non-urgent work left, she could at least enjoy a normal weekend rest.
Perhaps it was the luck of the new year. That same day, she received a credit card charge notification for over $300. Initially puzzled, wondering if her card had been stolen, she suddenly remembered her application for the New York Marathon. Though it was just over a month ago, it felt like a distant memory. Excited, she checked her email and found she had indeed been selected. She immediately messaged Gan Yang, only to learn he had been chosen too. Separated by over 300 kilometers, one at work and one in class, they secretly rejoiced for quite a while.
Their excitement might not have been so secret, as even JV unusually turned around to inquire about what was going on.
Ding Zhitong, taking another initiative to be friendly, explained, “I got into this year’s marathon!”
JV, as usual, didn’t engage in small talk, only giving a perplexed look.
Ding Zhitong felt awkward, suddenly recalling that her initial reaction when Gan Yang first mentioned running the New York Marathon had been similar.
The two agreed to meet over the weekend. Gan Yang planned to leave Ithaca on Friday evening, arriving in Manhattan around 10 pm. Ding Zhitong also left work early for once, ignoring JV’s glances as she left the office at 7 pm. She rushed back to her apartment, did laundry, cleaned the room, and then, surveying her surroundings, thought of some additional preparations.
Being the type of person who always starts with a theory, she searched online for topics like “5 irresistible kissing techniques” and “10 things men love women to do in bed,” delving into some NSFW content.
Just before 10 pm, she heard a key turning in the lock. The crash-course student sprang from the couch and ran to the door, embracing the person who had just entered.
Gan Yang was momentarily confused by this sudden burst of passion. Ding Zhitong realized she wasn’t quite capable of the rom-com-style running leap and passionate kiss she’d imagined. But it was too late to back out now. Gan Yang had already shrugged off his backpack and coat, embracing her tightly.
This separation had been longer, without even the chance for video calls. Their longing for each other was more intense, mixed with a hint of unfamiliar excitement – both familiar and new. It wasn’t just the separation and yearning, but also her initiative.
Like their first time, they showered together. But unlike before, she made the first move, caressing him, her lips meeting his, then gently biting as she whispered, “I want you.” She led him to the bed but didn’t give him the lead, straddling him instead and leaning down to kiss him. He felt ticklish and slightly embarrassed, attempting to change positions, but she wouldn’t allow it. She pinned his wrists to the pillow, silently gazing at him before trailing kisses down his body.
His gaze deepened, his breathing and soft moans no longer hidden, seemingly meant for her ears alone – low, husky, with a slight lilt at the end.
Eventually, he couldn’t resist flipping her over, but upon entering her, he felt close to climax and had to pause to regain control. She lay on the disheveled sheets, seeing his face, eyes, and lips lost in her. She rediscovered that feeling of mutual need, realizing she could bring someone such intense pleasure. The emotional high and satisfaction were indescribable, making her believe she’d grasped the essence of intimacy between men and women.
The finale came with sudden, urgent movements and reckless thrusts. The floor lamp cast a soft glow over their young bodies, a sheen of sweat like a dusting of gold powder.
Afterward, as he dried her hair, he whispered, “You seemed… different today. Why?”
Ding Zhitong blushed, wondering if this would lead to an embarrassing conversation. Though she had initiated everything, talking about it was another matter.
“Did you like it?” she asked, trying to stay composed.
Gan Yang didn’t answer directly. He turned her to face him and asked, “Were you so forward because you felt guilty about neglecting me these past weeks?”
Ding Zhitong looked at him seriously and shook her head.
“So you just wanted to take the initiative?” he pressed.
She nodded, still maintaining eye contact.
He finally smiled, leaning back contentedly against the pillows.
“What’s with that lecherous expression?” Ding Zhitong teased, pinching his cheek.
Gan Yang caught her hand, pulling her into his embrace. “Can’t I be happy?”
Resting her head on his chest, exhausted from two weeks of overtime and their recent activities, Ding Zhitong had one last question: “Were you upset that I neglected you these past weeks?”
Stroking her bare arm, Gan Yang shook his head. “No, I just worried about how hard you were working. It’ll probably be like this in the future too.”
Ding Zhitong murmured sleepily, “That’s life as an analyst. Work-life balance doesn’t exist. You need to make VP before you can have a life…”
“How many years will that take?” Gan Yang wondered. “Have you considered changing jobs?”
Ding Zhitong didn’t answer; her eyes were already closed, seemingly asleep.
On Saturday night, Gan Yang hosted a housewarming party, inviting Wang Yi for dinner. Ding Zhitong invited Song Mingmei and messaged Feng Sheng. However, Feng Sheng declined, saying he was cramming for his trader qualification exam next week.
Ding Zhitong knew about the exam – 70% to pass, a maximum of three attempts, a mandatory requirement for the trading floor usually written into contracts. New hires had to pass within three months or leave. Of course, someone like Feng Sheng wouldn’t fail. His absence likely had other reasons.
He added: Everyone in the team is betting on me to score high. They say Chinese people average over 90% on these standardized tests.
Ding Zhitong smiled at the trading floor’s bad habits – a bunch of professional gamblers betting on everything. She encouraged him: No pressure, you’re the exam master.
Feng Sheng replied: Thanks for the good wishes.
So, on Saturday night, the four of them gathered for hot pot.
Snow fell outside while the pot boiled inside. They had beef flank, ox tongue, and beef balls in a clear broth with ginger slices. The dipping sauce was satay sauce from a Chinese store, mixed with Gan Yang’s homemade fried garlic.
Midway through the meal, they spontaneously decided to make a toast. Gan Yang, holding a glass of mostly tonic water, announced in a broadcaster’s voice: “Ding Zhitong and Song Mingmei work on Wall Street, Wang Yi is doing her PhD at Columbia, and I’m selling roast ducks at Quanjude. We all have bright futures ahead.”
Wang Yi and Song Mingmei laughed as they clinked glasses, knowing he was poking fun at himself after a month of job hunting with no success.
Ding Zhitong laughed too, meeting Gan Yang’s eyes – warm, bright, and clear. Everything felt perfect; even total rejection didn’t seem like a big deal. There would always be a way forward. She smiled to herself, realizing she was becoming more optimistic like him.
As they were finishing the hot pot, her ever-present BlackBerry vibrated softly. She had a feeling it was important. Excusing herself to the bathroom, she checked her email. A new message from Deborah briefly informed the team of good news: The XP Energy pitch was successful!
This meant the financing project had become her first live deal as an analyst. Moreover, her collaboration with JV would continue for the next few months.
At that moment, she felt both excitement and anxiety.