If it were her future self, she would surely feel that life is so fragile and unpredictable, and wealth is much the same.
Domestic social networking sites in China mostly emerged around the year 2000. At that time, Gan Yang was preparing to study abroad, and his classmates were just graduating from middle school, missing that wave of popularity. This time, due to Song Mingmei’s forceful promotion of “Mo Qi,” he even reconnected with elementary school classmates, especially those who had trained together in sports.
The beginning is always the most enthusiastic. A group of people created a group on “Mo Qi,” and then set up a QQ group. During those days, Ding Zhitong often heard him saying:
“You know what? This classmate of mine went to play professional soccer in Germany.”
“Look at this guy, he used to do hurdles, now he runs a restaurant back home. He’s eaten his way to over 200 pounds, and he’s even married with a one-month-old daughter!”
“And this one, he’s also in America, bought a boat to run a tourist business. When are you taking a vacation? Let’s go to San Francisco to visit him!”
Ding Zhitong didn’t quite understand this camaraderie built on running laps early on cold winter mornings and sneaking smokes in dorm rooms during summer training. She only thought practically that Germany, China, and the East and West coasts of America seemed so close now. CEO Deng’s website seemed quite successful; it was probably about to take off.
Ding Zhitong could see that Song Mingmei, working as half product manager and half financing consultant for “Mo Qi,” didn’t seem very optimistic about the “product” in her hands. She felt this wasn’t right, and that needed changing, clearly aiming for a quick in-and-out, securing a few investments before being acquired. Although her “investment portfolio” had been streamlined compared to before, Ding Zhitong still couldn’t quite figure out Song Mingmei’s approach. Was Deng Baiting now her “investment target” or her business partner?
Also during those days, there was a slight follow-up on JV’s matter.
The reason for saying “slight” was because initially, there were indeed a few news reports in newspapers and on TV, with headlines like “Wall Street Investment Bank Analyst Suddenly Passes Away, Suspected of Overwork” and so on, but afterward, there was no new information.
Whether it was truly death from overwork was hard to conclude. M Bank only stated thoroughly official wording, saying the company had contacted JV’s family to express condolences, arranged medical insurance and funeral matters, and provided psychological counseling for relevant employees.
These “relevant employees” of course included Ding Zhitong, but she had no time to see the therapist HR introduced. She only attended the short meeting for employees at her level. Besides reiterating the gag order, a new employee rule was communicated: after swiping their card to enter the lobby’s security gate, if there was no record of swiping out within 48 hours, the system would automatically alert and notify the relevant person’s direct supervisor, requiring the person to leave the office immediately.
“How long before we can come back?” a colleague beside her asked, not to argue, but genuinely wanting to know.
The HR spokesperson answered, “According to regulations, it’s eight hours.”
According to regulations.
Ding Zhitong found it ironic because regardless of the regulations, they had to complete the work at hand. No one could bear being forced to leave for eight hours suddenly. Predictably, there would be another insider operation: they would have to calculate their office entry time carefully, setting an alarm on their phones to swipe out just before the 48-hour mark, then turn around and swipe back in.
After that short meeting, Qin Chang also came to talk to her.
Ding Zhitong knew her senior was worried and wanted to offer some guidance.
They had lunch together, and she deliberately acted relaxed, saying she had rested well and had friends by her side.
Qin Chang nodded and then mentioned he had an upcoming TMT project, asking if she was interested in working on it.
Ding Zhitong was naturally willing, and Qin Chang still wore that gentle, otherworldly expression, as if saying, “I brought you onto this ship of thieves, I can’t just abandon you.” Looking at him, Ding Zhitong suddenly felt fortunate. If he hadn’t said those words to her two months ago, she might still be struggling with JV, and she couldn’t imagine how she would feel today.
However, Qin Chang was in the industry group, responsible for client liaison. She was in the product group, and if work was assigned, she would follow a VP or manager from her group. She initially doubted whether he could arrange for her to join, but that very day she received an email from the staffer, and it happened.
Through this incident, Ding Zhitong discovered that Qin Chang was quite influential in IBD, not as awkward as Song Mingmei had initially analyzed.
This time, she was led by a manager from the product group, an American guy a few years older than her, completely different in style from Deborah. He would let her work on models independently, and when problems arose, he would pull up a chair and sit beside her to explain.
Ding Zhitong was incredibly grateful until they had a meeting with the industry group and she realized this guy was very familiar with Qin Chang. After the meeting, they ate together, and the young man pointed at Qin Chang, telling her, “When I was an intern, he was an analyst, and he taught me the same way.”
Ding Zhitong suddenly understood. Before Qin Chang transferred to the industry group, he had already become an expert in execution, doing his work beautifully and never hesitating to help newcomers, not just her. A foreign student’s ability to stay and rise might be due to this way of dealing with people. Teaching apprentices don’t necessarily starve the master; it can also be proof of the master’s leadership ability.
This made her think of JV again. The desk beside her remained vacant, but with summer approaching and new interns about to start, someone would surely be placed in that position. By then, this person could be quietly forgotten.
Next came the day when the XP Energy project successfully concluded.
Many years later, Ding Zhitong witnessed countless similar scenes, knowing that the NYSE uses a small gavel, the NASDAQ uses an electric bell, and the Hong Kong Stock Exchange uses a large gong. But that time was a private placement, with only a small ceremony, opening champagne in the war room, yet leaving the deepest impression on her.
Partly because of JV, she didn’t know if he could hear this sound of money falling into pockets in the colorful Indian paradise.
Also because that day was May 12, 2008. Just a few hours earlier, she had learned from Gan Yang about news from China: at dawn Eastern Time, an 8.0 magnitude earthquake had struck Wenchuan, affecting over 200 counties and cities in the area, with hundreds of thousands injured, dead, or missing.
If it were her future self, she would surely feel that life is so fragile and unpredictable, and wealth is much the same.
But at that time, she had no leisure to think of other things, only joining other Chinese students on the street in making donations and following the news broadcast thousands of miles away online.
Also on that day, Madam Liu called Gan Yang, telling him that due to work commitments, she couldn’t attend his graduation ceremony.
Gan Yang was quite surprised and asked, “Is something happening at the factory?”
“Nothing much, just preparing for the IPO. I thought Director Long could handle it, but they need me there in person,” Madam Liu explained, then teased him, “Anyway, you have a girlfriend watching over you now, and no time to entertain your mom. Just send me some photos, and it’ll be the same.”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” Gan Yang said, annoyed, but after hanging up, he felt something was odd.
He truly hadn’t expected Madam Liu to miss his graduation ceremony. It wasn’t that the ceremony itself was so important, but because he had recently told her about his girlfriend, and he thought his mother would surely want to meet her. He had even worried about it for a while, wondering what if Madam Liu wanted to meet, but Ding Zhitong was busy or unwilling.
For some reason, he always had a feeling that Ding Zhitong might be unwilling.
He tried to explain this thought and considered how to persuade her if it came to that, but in the end, he couldn’t figure it out. Now that Madam Liu said she wasn’t coming, the problem seemed solved, yet he felt somewhat disappointed.
The house in Ithaca was rented until the end of May. On graduation day, Ding Zhitong took a day off to visit him. There were indeed many more graduates in May than in winter, with a sea of black filling the entire stadium. The sunlight painted everything in the most vivid and pleasing colors, including the mortarboards thrown into the sky, with tassels in various colors representing different colleges dangling from one corner.
That night, graduates celebrated wildly in the small town’s bars. Ding Zhitong and Gan Yang both drank. She teased him about his low alcohol tolerance, though she was drunk herself. The two ran hand in hand through the small town, crazily rolling on the grass. In the moonlight, she suddenly realized that early summer was the most beautiful season here. Even in the dead of night, she could feel the fragrance and greenness emanating from the undulating grasslands beneath them, see the faint Milky Way in the night sky, and smell the moisture from nearby Cayuga Lake.
Thinking that they would leave the next day, she sighed wistfully, “This is the last time…”
But Gan Yang just smiled and said, “How could it be? We can come back in the future.”
The next day, they packed up their remaining luggage and drove to New York to, as Song Mingmei put it, “officially live together.”
But that very night, Zeng Junjie, the former hurdler who now ran a restaurant and had eaten his way to over 200 pounds, messaged Gan Yang on QQ: “Hey, I saw your dad outside yesterday.”
Gan Yang didn’t take it seriously and cursed, “What nonsense are you talking about, you fool?!”
In 1993, Gan Kunliang was suspected of fraud and fled. It wasn’t until four years later that he was accidentally caught in a small hotel in Beihai, Guangxi, during a local anti-prostitution operation while soliciting a prostitute. After his arrest came indictment and trial. By then, the Supreme Court had issued a judicial interpretation, and his initial actions were ultimately characterized as fundraising fraud, resulting in a twelve-year sentence. Counting from his imprisonment in 1997, he still had over a year left to serve.
“Maybe I saw wrong…” Zeng Junjie became uncertain after Gan Yang’s response.
But a few days later, Gan Yang received a photo from Zeng Junjie. It was a screenshot of a TV news broadcast, with their hometown’s small TV station logo in the upper left corner, reporting on local businesses donating money and supplies to the 5.12 disaster area. The man sitting in the large office chair in the center was Gan Kunliang. He looked quite young, seemingly whiter and fatter, wearing new clothes, completely looking like an executive.
After receiving that photo, Gan Yang immediately wanted to call Madam Liu, but after dialing half the number, he stopped.
Gan Kunliang didn’t look at all like someone who had just been released from prison. His mother had been keeping this from him for a while.
Even during their video call a few days ago, Madam Liu had only congratulated him on his college graduation, showing no signs of anything unusual. But this “normalcy” made him even more worried because he knew his mother too well. Given her usual temperament, she wouldn’t demand that Gan Kunliang reform after his release; as long as he hadn’t caused any trouble in the past year, she would find an opportunity to mend the father-son relationship. But Madam Liu hadn’t said anything to him.
Now, with his sentence not yet completed, Gan Kunliang had been released early on parole. The parole process must have taken time, and Madam Liu had probably been busy with this for two years. Meanwhile, she had consistently told him: after graduation, don’t go back; if you think America is too far, just stay in Hong Kong, I’ve even prepared a house for you there.
At the time, he had thought this was just Madam Liu’s nature – when she cared for someone, she liked to take care of everything, always ready to give with a pure heart. But at this moment, he had an uneasy feeling. Madam Liu wasn’t just like this with her son; she was equally wholehearted with her husband, regardless of whether he was a treasure or trash.
He considered the best and worst possibilities before finally making that call. With the summer time difference of twelve hours, it was already late night there, but someone answered quickly.