sjar Chapter 312 What is a Professional?
Chapter 312 What is a Professional?
"Mr. Ling," his voice trembled, "you are insulting us."
"I didn't insult anyone," Ling Yun said. "I was just stating the facts."
Chen Ziang took a deep breath. He glanced at Li Ziyu, then at Zhang Mingyuan and Lin Jiayi. Then he turned back to look at Ling Yun.
"Mr. Ling," he said, his voice suddenly becoming calm, "I'm resigning."
The meeting room was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.
Li Ziyu suddenly stood up. "Chen Zi'ang!"
Chen Zi'ang didn't look at him. He stared at Ling Yun, waiting for a response.
Ling Yun sat there, his expression unchanged. He picked up his water glass, took a sip, and then put it down.
"Are you a kindergarten child?" he asked.
Chen Ziang was stunned.
"Are we playing house?" Ling Yun continued, "Do we need to be coaxed to do our jobs?"
Chen Ziang's face turned red again, this time as red as if it were about to bleed.
"You—" His voice caught in his throat.
"You can resign," Lingyun said, "but we'll know the result in a couple of days. You can still resign then."
He stood up and walked to Chen Zi'ang. The distance between the two was less than a meter.
"Two days," Ling Yun said. "Two days later, if I'm wrong, you can scold me in front of everyone. If I'm right..." He paused, "then you should really think about what professionalism means."
Chen Zi'ang stood there, motionless.
His breathing was heavy, his chest heaving violently. His eyes were fixed on Ling Yun, filled with anger, humiliation, confusion, and a slight wavering that he himself was unaware of.
"Sit down," Ling Yun said.
Chen Zi'ang did not move.
"Sit down," Ling Yun said again, his voice soft but carrying an undeniable authority.
Chen Ziang's knees bent slightly. He slowly sat back down in his chair, his eyes still fixed on Ling Yun.
Ling Yun walked back to his seat and sat down.
"Now," he said, "let's continue. Below 6,666 points, fully invested. Any questions?"
No one spoke.
"If you have any, say so now." Ling Yun looked around. "If not, go back and prepare."
Everyone fell silent for five seconds, then ten seconds.
Zhang Mingyuan lowered his head, Lin Jiayi turned her gaze to the window, and Chen Ziang was still staring at Ling Yun, but his lips were tightly pursed and he did not speak again.
Li Ziyu cleared his throat. "That's settled then. Everyone go back to work and carry out President Ling's arrangements."
The three traders stood up one after another and left the conference room. Chen Ziang walked last. He paused for a moment when his hand touched the doorknob, but did not turn around.
The door closed.
Only Ling Yun and Li Ziyu remained in the conference room.
Li Ziyu let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair.
"That kid," he said, "is hot-blooded."
"But what you just said..." Li Ziyu carefully chose his words, "wasn't it a bit too harsh?"
Ling Yun looked at him.
"Is it harsh?"
"A little," Li Ziyu said. "Those who come from Ivy League schools are all the cream of the crop. Those who get into Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley are the best of the best. What you just said is like crushing all their pride."
Ling Yun stood up. "Their pride is worthless in this market."
Li Ziyu remained silent for a few seconds.
"Are you really sure?" he asked. "6666?"
"Two days," Ling Yun said. "They'll know in two days."
10:00 AM.
Chen Ziang sat at his workstation, surrounded by three monitors. His eyes were fixed on the screens, but his mind was elsewhere.
Those words just now keep replaying in my mind.
"You are only responsible for execution; you do not need to participate in decision-making."
"Are you a kindergarten child? Are you here to play house?"
"Does work require coaxing?"
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his flesh.
Zhang Mingyuan, sitting next to him, glanced at him but didn't say anything. Lin Jiayi, sitting opposite him, also glanced at him, then lowered her head again to continue looking at her computer.
At 10:30, the Hang Seng Index fell below 6900 points.
Chen Ziang stared at the number, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. Once, twice, three times.
In the cafeteria, several traders sat together eating. No one spoke. The sounds of chopsticks clinking against bowls, chewing, and the occasional swallowing were all present, but no one spoke.
Chen Ziang sat alone in the corner, holding his plate. He barely touched the food in front of him, his chopsticks holding a piece of meat, his eyes unfocused and vacant.
Zhang Mingyuan carried the tray over and sat down opposite him.
"Chen Zi'ang." He lowered his voice.
Chen Ziang raised his head.
"Do you think," Zhang Mingyuan said, "he really knows anything?"
Chen Zi'ang was taken aback. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Zhang Mingyuan glanced around, lowering his voice even further, "does he have some inside information? Or some information we don't know?"
Chen Ziang remained silent for a few seconds.
"I don't know," he said.
"Then what you just did...?"
"I acted impulsively just now," Chen Ziang interrupted him. "Thinking about this now is useless."
Zhang Mingyuan looked at him, opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Chen Ziang lowered his head and continued eating. He ate very slowly, chewing each bite as if he were chewing something very difficult to chew.
At 1 p.m., the Hang Seng Index opened and continued to fall.
Zhang Mingyuan leaned closer and whispered, "That number 6666, it's broken."
Chen Zi'ang remained silent.
"Shall we go in now?" Zhang Mingyuan asked.
Chen Ziang glanced at him, then looked at the conference room door.
"Wait for instructions," he said.
Chen Ziang stared at the number, motionless.
The meeting room door suddenly opened.
Ling Yun walked out. He was still holding the glass of water in his hand, his expression as calm as on the first day. He walked to Chen Ziang's workstation and stopped.
"Now," he said.
Chen Ziang raised his head and looked at him.
"Full capacity," Ling Yun said.
Chen Ziang's hands landed on the keyboard. He began typing commands. His fingers were steady, typing one keystroke at a time.
On the screen, the Hang Seng Index continued to drop. 6,630, 6,620, 6,610…
After entering the command, he pressed the Enter key.
A message pops up on the screen: Command executed.
Chen Ziang let out a long breath. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
A few seconds later, he opened his eyes and looked at Ling Yun.
Ling Yun was still standing there, looking at the screen.
"President Ling," Chen Ziang said.
Ling Yun turned his head.
Chen Ziang stood up. He stood there, looking at Ling Yun, his lips moving slightly.
"I..." he said.
Ling Yun didn't speak.
Chen Ziang took a deep breath. "I've figured out what happened yesterday."
"What?"
"What does it mean to be professional?" Chen Ziang said. "Professionalism isn't about whether I think I'm right or wrong; it's about being able to execute instructions effectively."
Ling Yun looked at him without saying a word.
"What you said yesterday," Chen Ziang continued, "I thought about it all night. I understand now. In this market, I don't need to understand why; I need to believe."
Ling Yun nodded.
"Then do a good job," he said.
He turned and walked towards the door.
Chen Ziang stood there, watching his retreating figure. Just as Ling Yun's hand touched the doorknob, Chen Ziang suddenly spoke.
"President Ling."
Lingyun stopped.
"That number," Chen Zi'ang said, "is six thousand six hundred and sixty-six. How did you confirm that?"
Ling Yun didn't turn around.
"After this wave is over," he said, "if you're still around, I'll tell you then."
The door opened and then closed.
Chen Ziang stood by his workstation, staring at the door, motionless.
His hands hung at his sides, clenched into fists, then relaxed.