Over the past few years, every choice Song Mingmei made had been correct.
Ding Zhitong believed Song Mingmei was right, not just because her two children attended an international school where many families were mixed Chinese and foreign. More importantly, every decision Song Mingmei had made in recent years had proven correct.
In 2009, during Wall Street’s most depressing period, Song Mingmei returned to China with a large envelope and then found a job at an investment bank in Hong Kong.
By that time, Deng Baiting’s “Moqi” had been online for a year, reaching millions of users through several social gaming apps.
Song Mingmei had become a minor internet celebrity on the platform, running a column called “Huajie Mingmei.” She wrote numerous articles about the investment world and shared strategies for interviews, internships, and jobs. Combined with her connections from prestigious schools and the finance sector, she significantly improved Moqi’s user base and content quality.
At the time, she boldly predicted that Key Opinion Leaders (KOLs) would be the next big trend, with her unique advantage being in finance.
However, she wasn’t the only one writing such articles online. Once her fame grew, conflicts with others became inevitable. Even if she didn’t engage directly, fans would spark wars by reposting snippets of conversations.
That year, a user called “Miss Money” appeared on a forum, claiming to have achieved financial freedom and slept her way through the financial district. When fans asked Song Mingmei if this person was genuine, she briefly examined a few articles and pointed out basic conceptual errors.
For instance, “Miss Money” claimed to have turned 100,000 yuan into nearly 100 million through stock trading during college. However, the Shanghai Composite Index has fallen from 6,000 to 2,500 points in recent years. What were the odds of achieving such returns?
Moreover, “Miss Money” said she read Bridgewater Daily every day, but anyone who had invested in the U.S. knew how confidential Bridgewater Daily was – even internal employees couldn’t access it daily.
Upon hearing this, “Miss Money” retaliated, accusing some people of being unable to tolerate others’ success. She criticized Song Mingmei for spending so much time investigating her, only to end up in an entry-level job while pretending to be an expert.
Song Mingmei replied, “Yes, my position at the investment bank isn’t high, but I’m only 24 this year.”
The other person responded, “Sorry, big sis, I’m 22.”
The term “big sis” infuriated Song Mingmei.
Ding Zhitong, from across the Pacific, advised her: “You’re upset because you’re real, while the other side is a virtual persona with a team behind it. You don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman. How can you fight against that with just yourself?”
Song Mingmei realized this was true but still found it ironic. This persona combined several key elements – financial freedom, sleeping through the financial district, beauty, and being 22 years old. Judging by the immature writing style, perhaps only the “22 years old” part was genuine. Yet, it was precisely the age that struck a nerve. She felt foolish for being affected by it.
During this time, Deng Baiting had envisioned a bright future of financing and going public, but the reality wasn’t so smooth.
Someone had registered a domain name similar to “Moqi,” creating an identical fake website that hijacked a large number of users and traffic. Deng had no choice but to sue. After investigation, lawyers discovered that behind the fake site was a sizeable internet conglomerate that had recently approached him about an acquisition, which he had refused.
The facts of the case were clear, and the court ruled in favor of “Moqi” in the first instance. However, the other party appealed at the last minute, pushing the case into a second trial. The lawyers estimated the entire process would take at least two years, with potential compensation of only a few hundred thousand yuan. These two years should have been spent developing a mobile app. Small companies often struggle to manage everything, and a single domain name dispute could be their downfall.
Deng Baiting didn’t know what to do. Angry and frustrated, he suffered from insomnia every night, leading to asthma attacks from exhaustion. Eventually, Song Mingmei made a decisive move. She quit her job, stopped writing her column, and returned to support him through the lawsuit.
Ding Zhitong always found this situation ironic upon reflection. The large conglomerate had its social networking sites and aimed to consume “Moqi,” eliminate competition, and become China’s number one. Whenever Song Mingmei updated her on the trial’s progress, she couldn’t help but exclaim, “How can such underhanded competitive tactics exist in this world!”
Song Mingmei laughed at her response, saying, “You’ve been through a financial crisis. How can you still believe some capitalists aren’t underhanded?”
Ding Zhitong was speechless, realizing the truth in her words.
At that point, an out-of-court settlement truly became the best option for “Moqi.”
Song Mingmei accompanied Deng Baiting to negotiations, meticulously examining every detail from valuation figures to contract terms. The process was lengthy, but they finally concluded.
The conglomerate acquired “Moqi,” merging the real and fake websites. Deng became a senior executive in a large company, receiving a substantial sum of money and stock options.
That same year, Song Mingmei accepted Deng Baiting’s marriage proposal.
One day, she video-called Ding Zhitong, saying, “You must come back to be my bridesmaid.”
Ding Zhitong looked at her and replied, “I’ll attend your wedding, but I can’t be your bridesmaid. Don’t you remember?”
Song Mingmei said, “That doesn’t count.”
“How can a marriage not count? Even if it lasts only a day, it’s still a marriage,” Ding Zhitong said with a bitter smile.
“What do you want me to do?” Song Mingmei reasoned. “I have many friends, but you’re the only one close enough to be my bridesmaid. I don’t care about those things.”
“But I do care. If you’re getting married, do it properly,” Ding Zhitong looked at her, leaving half a sentence unspoken: Don’t end up like me.
Later, she flew back to Shanghai to attend the lavish wedding.
It was October 2010. The sky was crystal clear, and the grass was lush green. Song Mingmei wore an exquisite Valentino wedding gown, and the bridesmaid was an unmarried girl from a relative’s family.
At the wedding, someone asked Deng how he had proposed.
Deng blushed, embarrassed.
Song Mingmei smoothed things over, saying Deng had given her 10% of the company’s shares initially, but now he couldn’t bear to part with them, so he decided to marry her instead.
Someone else asked, “So why did you accept?”
Song Mingmei replied, “Because I couldn’t bear to lose the remaining 90%!”
Everyone laughed.
Watching from below, Ding Zhitong couldn’t help but recall that night in the Queen’s apartment when Song Mingmei had told her, “The vast majority of people never encounter true love in their lives. They end up finding someone to mutually nurture out of fear of dying alone.”
Suddenly, she couldn’t be sure whether the words spoken on stage were a joke or sincere.
Soon after, news spread that the conglomerate was integrating several of its websites, packaging them for a U.S. IPO. This further proved that the Deng couple had timed their move perfectly.
Unfortunately, good things never come easy. That year, “Yineng Environmental Protection,” the company Bian Jieming was managing for the IPO, was hit with a short-selling report strongly recommending to sell. It was delisted just twenty-three days later.
This incident caused an uproar. More reports emerged, revealing that since early 2000, many people like Bian had been brokering deals between China and the U.S., facilitating numerous reverse mergers and making substantial profits. Now, these companies were gradually exposing their flaws – defunct machinery, empty factories, inoperable trucks…
For a time, shorting Chinese concept stocks became a trend in the market. Several Chinese companies’ IPOs and M&A projects were forced to delay, including the one where Deng held an executive position.
Bian Jieming himself, however, continued to live well. He remained a China expert on Wall Street, bought a new mansion, and married Guan Wenyuan.
Ding Zhitong remembered seeing wedding photos on Facebook. Guan Wenyuan had fully transformed into an “Asian Babe” look, with tanned skin and heavy Western-style makeup. She wore Vera Wang and rode a horse at a country club, with Bian Jieming leading the horse in front.
Song Mingmei was also stunned. She had long suspected Bian Jieming of misconduct and had even tried to expose him, but lacked evidence at the time. Who knew that years later, they would fall victim to this older man again? She and Ding Zhitong privately cursed him but could only laugh bitterly in the end: That’s American freedom for you!
The IPO plan was consequently delayed by a year and required considerable effort, but it eventually succeeded.
On the day of the bell-ringing ceremony, Song Mingmei accompanied Deng Baiting to Manhattan. They posed together for a commemorative photo in front of the New York Stock Exchange.
Seeing that photo, Ding Zhitong was even more excited than Song Mingmei. She said, “Do you remember? Back then, you said, ‘I will come back,’ and you did it!”
Song Mingmei had also achieved her goal of financial freedom before turning thirty.
At that time, Song Mingmei was six months pregnant. Three months later, her eldest daughter, Yuqi, was born in the United States. Two years after that, she made another trip and gave birth to a son named Yulin.
A perfect life.