Chapter 26: How about trying to be a team leader?

There's a widely circulated saying in the industry: There's a ceiling to succeeding in the domestic market.
"How many times have I told you! Don't fixate on this lousy domestic market. If you want to go, go for the US stock market, that's where the stars are!"
A voice came from one of the workstations, filled with frustrated exasperation.
"Forget it! Fees, taxes, transaction costs, all those deductions, in the end you're still bleeding money! You'd be better off sticking to the quagmire of the A-share market, at least you're a seasoned swimmer!"
A colleague next to him poured cold water on the idea perfectly.
"Fine, then you can stay stuck in this lousy pool for the rest of your life! Clinging to your hopeless ambition of never breaking 4000 points, a useless piece of trash stuck in the same place! Look at the US stock market, there's no limit to its rise, the sky's the only limit!"
"Heh, there's no limit to its fall either. One slip and it'll be crashed to the floor, not even stopping in the basement."
"Why don't you short it? Just a quick double-up, and you'll be living in a villa by the sea, bro!"
"Oh ho, easy for you to say! If it were that easy, how come you're still not financially free? By the way, what was your overseas department's return this month? Let me see?"
"Uh, well, that..." The guy who was just so confident suddenly stammered, his eyes starting to dart around.
As a company grows, it naturally splits into all sorts of departments.
Fanghuan Investment is no exception; as a large and powerful company, it's also riddled with internal factions.
Therefore, even within the same company, people in different departments seem to live in separate worlds, each doing their own thing and keeping to themselves.
Some are obsessed with A-shares, some are venturing overseas, some specialize in bonds, and others are hopelessly addicted to the world of options.
"Sigh, they were really good at timing the buy, but unfortunately, they missed the sell point! They missed the boat at the last minute! If they had executed that trade perfectly, our department's year-end bonus could have been a pool party!"
A sigh of regret echoed from a corner of the office, filled with the frustration of "one wrong step leads to another."
As the old saying goes, buying relies on technique, selling… is purely an art, even bordering on the mystical.
No matter which market you're in, pinpointing that perfect selling opportunity is incredibly difficult.
If you were to ask which department in a private equity firm is most likely to "reasonably" slack off and least diligently clock in, it would most likely be the options department, especially the team responsible for sell-side strategies.
Their daily work, frankly, requires virtually no technical skill; it's more like running a large-scale "lottery station."
Every day, they post all sorts of option contracts, waiting for those "gamblers" in the market, yearning for overnight riches, to buy "hope."
And then?
In the vast majority of cases, about 99% of the time, these "lotteries" end up as worthless pieces of paper, the premiums flowing steadily into the pockets of the private equity firm.
They just need to sit there, drink tea, watch the market, and wait to collect their money—the epitome of effortless wealth accumulation.
But! Life is unpredictable; there are always "buts."
Occasionally, very occasionally, that "jackpot day," like a black swan event, arrives without warning.
It's like a lottery outlet hitting on a customer who's won the jackpot, and not just any jackpot, but a super big one. You have to look miserable and give away all your previous winnings, even your initial investment plus interest.
"Speaking of which, in this market upswing, has any department made any money?" someone asked curiously in a low voice in the break room.
"Yes, just one. Look, over there, in Trading Department One." The well-informed person pointed in a certain direction.
"Huh? Their department? Didn't they lose almost everything a while ago?"
"Things change! I heard it too, but their department pulled off an epic victory this time, making a killing. I heard the return rate is terrifyingly high!"
"How much did they actually make? Why are you all making such a fuss?"
At this moment, a team manager leaned in mysteriously, lowering his voice as if sharing some earth-shattering secret:
"According to reliable internal sources… sixty percent."
"Get lost! You think bragging is free? Sixty percent a month? Do you think you're cheating in a game? Even the US stock market wouldn't dare boast like that!" Someone immediately scoffed.
"More than that! The version I heard is over sixty percent, I think it's eighty percent? And supposedly, one person did it all by themselves!" Another voice added, its tone even more exaggerated.
"This is ridiculous again! It's getting weirder and weirder! Use your brain, does this make any sense?!"
"That explains it. I heard the trading department is forming a new team just for him!"
This is even more baffling.
In this bear market, so many traders are under immense pressure, and some have given up and left the market.
At a time like this, it's a miracle the company isn't downsizing or laying off staff, let alone expanding and forming a new team?
What's going on here?
"So... has the new team leader been decided? Who is it?" Everyone was filled with immense curiosity.
***
Because they lived in the same city, Su Hao and the chairman he called "Big Brother" would occasionally get together for a meal.
Each time they met, they had a tacitly agreed-upon meeting place—a lively street-side barbecue restaurant.
"I was thinking of taking you out for some French or Japanese food, to broaden your horizons and let you experience high society."
Huang Fengwen grinned, a hint of teasing in his voice, as he expertly ate some skewers.
"Hey, Brother Huang, do you think I don't know your tastes?" Su Hao chuckled.
"Barbecue with ice-cold beer, that's your soulmate, everything else is secondary, right?"
"Hey! You...you really understand me!" Huang Fengwen was clearly pleased, clinking glasses with Su Hao.
Logically, as the head of Fanghuan Investment, with a net worth of over a hundred million, he should be frequenting those high-end restaurants where the average cost per person starts at four figures—Michelin-starred, French, and privately customized Japanese cuisine would be befit his status.
But strangely, this Brother Huang's tastes were remarkably down-to-earth, even somewhat...unpretentious, a fondness for the boisterous,江湖-like atmosphere of eating meat and drinking beer in large quantities.
"By the way, what about that kid, Qiang? Wasn't the group supposed to come tomorrow night?"
After a few rounds of drinks, Huang Fengwen changed the subject, returning to their familiar territory:
"If he doesn't come, our raid will be without a main healer! Losing a couple of DPS isn't a big deal, but not having a healer is fatal, a guaranteed wipe!"
"Yeah, right. Don't worry, bro, I'll tie him to the computer even if I have to!" Su Hao patted his chest confidently.
"Sigh, but you can't blame the kid." The older brother sighed:
"Those game company planners, all they do is nerf support characters, treating healers like stepchildren. Anyone would get frustrated and want to quit."
Whenever the two of them get together, that's basically how it goes.
From start to finish, it's all about the game, from server maintenance to new version previews, from dungeon guides to guild gossip.
Su Hao thought it was fine.
He knew all the drills when he was having dinner with elders or superiors.
It was always the same old "young man, what are your plans for the future?", "What are you planning to do to support your family?", "Let me tell you, back in my day..."
He was sick and tired of these kinds of "life philosophies" and "success stories."
But being with this Brother Huang was different. He never mentioned those headaches of real life, only talked about games. It was relaxed, comfortable, and stress-free.
This feeling... was amazing.
Perhaps it was precisely because of this overly relaxed atmosphere that for a long time he couldn't completely equate the "Brother Huang" in the casual T-shirt, spouting gaming jargon, with his identity as a financial tycoon.
"Ahem," Huang Fengwen suddenly cleared his throat, his playful expression fading slightly:
"I almost forgot the important thing. We've been so busy talking about games that the time has almost gone by."
Su Hao's heart skipped a beat; he knew what was coming would eventually happen.
Sitting across from him today wasn't just the guild leader he'd fought alongside in the virtual world.
He was also the chairman of Fanghuan Investment, the company behind a vast financial empire.
"Ah Hao,"
The chairman paused for a moment, then downed his beer in one gulp. He set down the glass, his voice heavy, his eyes sharpening.
"You kid… do you have your own unique investment method?"
Su Hao's heart skipped a beat.
His own investment method?
Of course he did, although… nobody would believe it if he told them.
"Hmm, sort of." He mumbled a reply, thinking to himself: Purely gut feeling, pure recklessness.
That one trick, so far, has been ridiculously accurate.
"Just as I thought."
The chairman nodded slowly, with an "I knew it" expression, seemingly unsurprised.
"How did you manage to achieve such incredible returns? I won't ask about your specific investment methods. Why? Because even if you told me, I probably wouldn't understand. Not just me, but anyone would be just as baffled."
The chairman's gaze was deep, as if he could see through people's hearts:
"Perhaps your system is some kind of proprietary algorithm that only you can understand… After all, your short-term trading returns are just too damn outrageous; it can't be explained by 'good luck' alone."
An algorithm that only he can understand… Su Hao smiled bitterly to himself.
"Nonsense, if he told anyone he trades based entirely on 'intuition,' who the hell would believe him?
They'd be lucky not to send him to a mental hospital thinking he's insane.
'I've always valued ability,'
the chairman continued:
'Over the years, all those alumni connections, hometown ties, even relatives—if I felt someone wasn't capable enough, I rejected them all. The only time I've ever made an exception was because of you, kid.'
'Really?' Su Hao was somewhat flattered."
"Absolutely true. Of course, the main reason is that you've managed our guild so well." The chairman smiled, his tone softening:
"Especially when those old guys are causing trouble and giving orders haphazardly, you always manage to quietly smooth things over without a single complaint. That's something I really appreciate."
Su Hao knew that if it weren't for this Brother Huang, he'd probably still be staring at his computer screen, scrolling through job websites, worrying about his bleak future.
Not to mention discovering that he actually possessed this… well, what could be called a "special ability" talent.
"That's why I often eat barbecue, drink beer, and chat about games with you, bro!"
"Hehe, that's definitely the best. By the way, did you pass your professional qualification exam?"
"I passed, it was alright, not too difficult."
"That's good! Let me tell you, the reason our company has reached such a large scale today, I think, is largely due to this principle: as long as you have the ability, I'm willing to give you resources and promote you like crazy. And now..."
The chairman, while refilling his beer glass, suddenly changed the subject, dropping a bombshell:
"Ah Hao, how about... trying to be a team leader?"