Often, those who truly accomplish something are the ones others consider foolish.
M Bank’s research department’s prediction proved accurate. By late April, prices of oil, natural gas, agricultural products, and raw materials continued to rise. Even the stock and bond markets rebounded. Financial media once again painted a picture of global economic prosperity, asserting that the BRIC countries, led by China, would inevitably drive European and American financial markets out of their temporary slump with their robust growth momentum.
However, industry insiders were well aware of the year’s strange market occurrences and the steadily rising unemployment rate. The collapse of CDOs was only a matter of time. The financial market seemed poised for significant events, putting immense pressure on the project team at all levels. Their sole focus was to sell the stocks and secure payments before the impending crisis.
During this period, Ding Zhitong was at her busiest, while Gan Yang passed several exams and found himself with increasingly more free time.
Sometimes, when she worked late at her apartment, Gan Yang would keep her company via video call, silently playing games or watching online TV. After a few such occasions, Zhitong could discern his activities from his expressions: a silly grin meant he was watching a talk show, a serious face indicated he was watching a match, and furious keyboard tapping signaled he was gaming. When she grew tired, she’d pause to play with him briefly, but more often than not, they couldn’t meet face-to-face.
Gan Yang, impatient with solitude, decided to start work early after submitting his final term paper. He planned to move to Manhattan Island.
“There’s only a month left. What’s the rush? Besides, even if you’re here every day, I might not be,” Zhitong said, pinching his cheek and smiling, though feeling a bit apprehensive.
Previously, they had only occasionally stayed together for a few days. If they truly began cohabiting, observing each other closely and continuously, he would undoubtedly gain a more realistic and complete understanding of her work intensity and lifestyle habits. What would happen then? She wasn’t entirely sure.
Nevertheless, even while living in Ithaca, Gan Yang frequently visited her.
Sometimes his visits were ill-timed, coinciding with her consecutive all-nighters or just returning from business trips. Watching Gan Yang organize the refrigerator, discarding less-than-fresh produce, and pouring expired milk down the drain, she felt an almost guilty sensation. She’d suddenly remembered the dirty laundry sitting in the basket for days and, while he wasn’t looking, quickly stuffed it into the washing machine on a quick cycle. Upon returning, she’d find him standing behind her, smiling as if he’d caught her in the act.
Other times, his visits were well-timed, catching her during less busy periods or social activities with friends. On these occasions, Zhitong felt more at ease, thinking to herself, “See, I do balance work and life. I have a social life too.”
As May approached and temperatures finally climbed above 15 degrees Celsius, cherry and pear blossoms in the parks were ready to bloom. Gan Yang came to visit on a weekend, coinciding with Song Mingmei’s brunch invitation. Zhitong, maintaining her earlier mindset, brought Gan Yang along.
Mingmei also brought someone – Guan Wenyuan, whom Zhitong had heard of but never met. Guan was about to start a summer internship at M Bank and wanted to meet Zhitong to inquire about the situation there.
The venue, chosen by Guan, was a renowned brunch spot in Greenwich Village, perpetually crowded. Somehow, she had managed to secure a window seat. Zhitong and Gan Yang arrived late, spotting Mingmei photographing Guan through the glass before entering.
The four sat at a table, each ordering their meals. Guan spoke entirely in English, with an exaggerated New York accent. Combined with her wheat-colored skin, eyeliner, red lips, and long straight black hair, she could have been mistaken for a native Asian American – somewhat affected and a bit “bitchy.” However, Mingmei and Zhitong, having seen her resume, knew she, like Gan Yang, had only come abroad for high school.
What surprised Zhitong most wasn’t Guan’s accent, but the content of her speech.
Guan recounted how she secured her position at M Bank: She had first accepted an offer from L Bank, then received an offer from M Bank and reneged on L Bank. However, due to her academic excellence and interpersonal skills, L Bank’s interviewer cordially shook her hand, welcoming her to visit again if the opportunity arose.
Such a story, when told in English, lacked emotional nuance and clear judgment.
Translated into Chinese, it became much more direct – “Renege” means to break one’s word.
While seeking better opportunities while holding an offer is understandable, backing out after signing is another matter entirely. In such a small industry where everyone knows each other, reneging as an intern is certainly not a commendable record.
Zhitong had always heard this was taboo during her job search. She never imagined someone would boast about it.
At the table of four, some things were better left unsaid. Zhitong only saw Gan Yang communicating with her through eye contact, barely containing his amusement. It wasn’t until after the meal when they had dispersed and Zhitong received a call from Mingmei, that they finally vented about Guan.
Zhitong teased, “You’re such a hypocrite. You brought her to eat with us, yet you’re gossiping behind her back.”
Mingmei was unapologetic, replying, “I just wanted to see how a VIP conducts herself in the real world.”
Zhitong still found it puzzling and asked, “Since when do domestic VIPs hold sway on Wall Street?”
Mingmei laughed at her naivety, explaining, “Feng Sheng’s parents work at C Bank. He mentioned that Guan is the daughter of his mother’s high-ranking superior. When China opened its first investment bank in the 90s, C Bank collaborated with M Bank. Most of the earliest executives were sent by M Bank. Didn’t you know this?”
Zhitong was stunned. She genuinely hadn’t considered this connection, thinking to herself that she should stick to studying models.
After hanging up, Gan Yang began to critique, including all of them in his assessment: “A hundred years ago, when people studied abroad, they said they were shouldering the nation’s future, absorbing Western science. What are you all busy with now?”
This level of ideological awareness shocked Zhitong. Indeed, what they had been discussing was merely how to be good financial laborers, while he displayed the consciousness of a socialist successor!
“Isn’t this what studying finance is about?” she countered. “And what do you mean by ‘you all’? Aren’t you studying finance too?”
“When my mom gave me options – law, medicine, finance… I just chose the easiest one to graduate from,” Gan Yang explained, counting on his fingers and laughing.
Watching him, Zhitong grew curious and asked, “Do you plan to make shoes in the future?”
Gan Yang had always said this, mentioning that Wang Yi was his partner, but Dr. Wang never seemed to take it seriously. Although she knew she shouldn’t say it directly, she always worried that one day he would be too disappointed.
Gan Yang nodded, resting one hand behind his head and staring at the ceiling as he answered, “I just need to convince my mom. She’d rather spend money buying property in Hong Kong. She’s used to OEM and always thinks that R&D carries the risk of failure. She believes copying is better – cheaper and safer.”
Zhitong privately thought the rich female CEO’s idea was more practical. She tried to reason with him, “You studied finance too. From an investor’s perspective, if a fresh graduate with nothing to show suddenly came to you saying they wanted to set up a lab to research sneakers, would you fund them?”
Gan Yang scoffed, replying, “What do investors know? They’re funding plenty of things that don’t make logical sense. Like that Somnio you bought shoes from last time, or Song Mingmei’s Boss Deng. The limitations of his website and product cycle are obvious, yet he still gets investment. It’s all about telling a story, so why not believe the one I’m telling? Mine is even more plausible.”
Zhitong was surprised. She had thought he wasn’t interested and had zoned out, but he had been listening and even noticed the problems with Deng Boting’s website. Perhaps this is how things are – outsiders see clearly while those involved are blind to the issues.
“Why don’t you tell me your story then? Let me hear how plausible it is,” she requested with a smile.
Gan Yang explained, “Right now, my mom’s company only does contract manufacturing. To put it bluntly, they’re just working for foreign brands, always making the least money doing the dirtiest and most tiring work. Even a tiny shift in the exchange rate, down to the third decimal place, could be fatal for an OEM factory.”
This was true and happening right now. In just a few months, the dollar-to-yuan exchange rate was barely holding at 7, let alone the third decimal place. Zhitong thought of Ding Yanming, who boasted about her million-yuan annual salary, which was shrinking daily along with the exchange rate.
Gan Yang continued, “To change, we need to move from OEM contract manufacturing to ODM with our designs, and finally to OBM with our brand. But you have to understand, that the key to athletic shoes is technology. Fifty years ago, Onitsuka Tiger could pour candle wax on their heel to create a mold, but now, which competitive shoe doesn’t come from a world-class laboratory? How could a group of technicians who’ve never even been to university and can’t recite the periodic table possibly replicate others’ materials and designs in just a few months? It’s impossible.”
Those who imitate survive, those who copy die. Just as Song Mingmei thought Deng Boting’s website wasn’t good enough, it was the same with sneakers – they were all copies.
“But aren’t there domestic brands already doing R&D?” she still tried to find a reason.
Gan Yang replied, “There are, but very few. They’d rather spend hundreds of millions on advertising bids and spokespersons. Just watch, this window of opportunity won’t last long, five years at most. The sports industry will grow, and fitness will follow. It might seem like everyone’s the same now, running ads and opening stores, but in the end, only those with their labs will survive.”
Listening to him, Zhitong had to admit that he indeed understood the market and had his ideas. Although this man had enjoyed four years of liberal arts education, taking many sports classes and even practicing long-distance running, he hadn’t studied in vain.
However, she still felt many of his ideas were too idealistic. She feared that one day, after a harsh lesson from society, reality would disappoint him.
Sometimes, she felt her thoughts were unfounded. Like those worldly cynics who don’t necessarily understand more than others but love to pass judgment – “You’re too naive, it’s impossible, nothing in this world is that easy.” Yet, often those who truly accomplish something are the very fools in their eyes.
“Besides, my mom registered a sports shoe brand about ten years ago,” Gan Yang remembered.
“What’s it called?” Zhitong asked curiously.
He became shy, grinning as he said, “I’m embarrassed to tell you.”
Zhitong promised as she always did, “If you tell me, I definitely won’t tell anyone else.”
“Oriental Tiger, because I was born in the Year of the Tiger,” Gan Yang finally revealed, even though he found it amusing.
It sounded a bit tacky, and Zhitong laughed along.
But he became indignant, arguing, “Puma, Jaguar, Oriental Tiger, aren’t they all felines? This is pure racial discrimination!”
Zhitong laughed even harder, curling up and clutching her stomach, her whole body shaking.
“Stop laughing!” Gan Yang covered her mouth.
“Why can’t I laugh?” Zhitong broke free, rolling all over the couch.
Gan Yang pinned her down, saying forcefully, “You just can’t. I know it’s funny, but while others can laugh, you can’t.”
Zhitong was at her limit but still stubbornly said, “What kind of twisted logic is that? I insist on laughing, haha!”
Gan Yang didn’t argue further. He directly silenced her with a kiss, one hand caressing her hair, the other fondling her breast. Zhitong stopped laughing, arching her body to match his rhythm as if all the air had been drawn from her. A question formed on her lips but remained unasked – Why am I the only one who can’t?