PNB Chapter 3 | That Winter in Seoul
Chapter 3 | That Winter in Seoul
That winter, Ethan was sent to South Korea.
It wasn't a promotion, nor was it a punishment. It was more like a reassignment.
"Go to Seoul for a while," the partner told Eehan at the time. "There are some financial structures there that you need to keep an eye on."
His tone was casual, as if he were talking about a short business trip.
Ethan didn't ask why, he just nodded in agreement. He knew this was part of "delegation".
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Winters in Seoul are colder than those in New York.
It wasn't the kind of cold that comes from strong winds, but rather the air itself was very dry and hard, which made you subconsciously slow down your breathing when you inhaled it.
Ethan got off the plane in the evening.
The sky was gray, the distant mountain outlines were blurred, and the airport lights distorted everything. He pulled his luggage out of the arrival hall, where the driver was holding up a sign with his name on it.
"Mr. Cao?"
The other party used very standard honorifics.
Ethan nodded.
By the time the car hit the road, it was completely dark. The city lights were more densely packed than those in New York, but much lower.
It lacks that overbearing presence; instead, it appears restrained.
He leaned back in his seat, looking out the window, and realized something:
This is the first time he has returned to Asia as someone who is "expected".
The workload at the Korean branch is not heavy.
It's more about coordination, confirmation, and—observation.
Ethan spent his days in the office and his nights back at the hotel. His life was compressed into a very narrow line. Until that weekend.
It snowed very early that day.
It wasn't a blizzard, just a thin layer that settled on the roadside, rooftops, and the edges of GG signs, making the whole city suddenly quiet.
Ethan originally just wanted to go out for a walk.
The hotel is not far from SM Entertainment.
He didn't actually know what that place was.
He was simply drawn to the light of a convenience store, and as he pushed open the door, the doorbell rang once.
Welcome!
The voice was very soft and gentle.
She was standing next to the heater, wearing a very ordinary down jacket in a light color, with the hood pulled down low.
Holding a cup of hot drink in her arms, her fingers were a little red from the cold.
She was looking down at her phone, her brows slightly furrowed.
It's like they're memorizing some action, or like they're reciting something.
Ethan didn't notice her immediately.
He simply grabbed a bottle of water and stood at the cashier waiting to pay.
Until she looked up.
At that moment, there was no sense of "fate".
It was just a very natural pause.
Her eyes were bright, not because of makeup, but because of her focus.
Their eyes met briefly in mid-air.
She couldn't hold on any longer and moved away.
When it was her turn to pay the bill,
The cashier glanced at her, then at the screen.
"This... is still a little short."
She paused for a moment, then looked down and rummaged through her bag, her movements seeming a little hurried.
Ethan noticed that her hands were trembling.
"I'll do it."
He spoke in English, and his voice was not loud.
She looked up at him, clearly startled for a moment.
"It's okay—"
"fine."
Ethan has already handed over the card.
It's a very simple action.
As the two walked out of the convenience store, the snow began to fall even more heavily.
She stood at the door, holding the cup of hot drink, and hesitated for a moment.
"Thank you."
She spoke in very soft English.
His pronunciation was a little hesitant, but he was very earnest.
Ethan nodded: "You're welcome."
It should have ended here.
But she didn't leave immediately.
"You...you're not Korean, are you?"
She asked.
His tone was casual, as if he were confirming something very important.
No.
Ethan said, "I'm here on a business trip."
She nodded, as if relieved of something.
"It's very cold here in winter."
She said, "It's colder than it looks."
Ethan smiled.
"I know."
He said, "New York too."
Her eyes lit up when she heard "New York".
"I really want to go too."
She paused for a moment after saying that.
It was as if he realized he had said a bit too much.
Ethan didn't ask any further questions.
He simply looked at her, finding the moment peaceful.
The two of them walked side by side for a short distance.
No destination.
The snow just kept falling.
It will take some time.
Ethan watched the girl next to him kicking the snow on the roadside as she walked.
"Do you live nearby?" Ethan asked, breaking the ice.
"dormitory."
She pointed ahead, "Not far."
He said, "Me too."
They both smiled.
As she approached the intersection, she slowly stopped, seemingly a little reluctant to leave.
"My name is... Winter."
After she finished speaking, she immediately added, "Practice name."
Ethan nodded.
"It's a beautiful name. I'm Ethan."
They didn't say much, nor did they make plans for next time.
She turned and ran into the snow, her figure, though clad in a thick down jacket, appeared remarkably light.
After taking a few steps, she turned back.
"The snow today is beautiful."
Ethan stood there, tilting his head to look at her slightly reddened face from the cold.
"Yes."
She caught up with him after he had already walked more than ten steps.
The sound of footsteps on the snow was very soft.
He hadn't noticed until he heard slightly hurried breathing behind him.
"Wait a moment, sir."
The sound wasn't loud, but it was very clear.
Ethan stopped and turned around.
She stood under the streetlight, her hat askew from the wind, a few strands of hair clinging to her face. A steaming cup of hot drink sat in her hand, but she seemed to have forgotten to drink it.
"that……"
She hesitated for a moment, as if organizing her thoughts, then said, "I'll pay you back the money."
Ethan paused for a second, then smiled.
"No need."
He said it casually, "It's nothing serious."
She shook her head.
It wasn't a polite shake of the head.
The decision has already been made.
"no."
She said, "I don't like owing people things."
This was said very seriously.
Being so serious is almost inappropriate.
Ethan looked at her and didn't try to persuade her further.
"So how do you plan to pay it back?"
She blinked, as if she hadn't expected him to ask that question.
"I……"
She lowered her head and thought for a moment, then said, "I can transfer it to you later."
"after?"
Ethan repeated it.
"Um."
She nodded, "When I have a cell phone."
He said, "You don't have it now?"
Yes, it is.
She immediately changed her tune, paused, and added, "But it's not always available."
Ethan didn't ask any further questions.
He simply realized that this "wasn't always available."
There must be a whole set of rules behind it that she's used to.
The snow fell even more heavily.
The red light at the intersection was on, and there weren't many cars.
She hugged the hot drink tightly, as if she had finally mustered up her courage.
"Could you...give me your number?"
The moment she asked the question, she felt nervous.
It wasn't shyness, but a kind of earnestness born of fear of being misunderstood.
"Not now."
She immediately explained, "I meant... later. I'll pay you back then."
This explanation is redundant, but it's quite endearing.
Ethan did not answer immediately.
He took out his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to her.
"Call me."
She paused for a moment, then took the phone.
My fingers were cold, and there was a noticeable pause when I touched the screen.
She lowered her head and slowly entered her number, as if she were repeatedly confirming each digit.
Dial the number.
She immediately handed the phone back, as if she had accomplished something important.
"That's fine."
She said, her tone finally softening.
He looked at the numbers on his phone without making any notes.
There is only one string of numbers.
"My name is Winter."
She said it again, this time in a much more natural tone.
"Ethan."
He said.
"Ethan."
She repeated it once, her pronunciation very softly but very accurate.
It's as if it's remembering something.
The red light turns green.
She took a step back, preparing to leave.
He took two steps, then stopped.
"that……"
She turned around and pointed to the ice under his feet, "Be careful on the road."
It's a very ordinary sentence.
However, this scene seems somewhat superfluous.
Ethan nodded.
"The same to you."
She then turned and ran away.
Her footsteps were very light in the snow, almost making no sound.
That night, back at the hotel, he turned on his computer as usual and glanced at the pre-market data.
I watched for two minutes, then closed it.
He picked up his phone, opened his contacts, and created a new contact.
My finger hovers over the input field.
After a few seconds, he typed only one word.
No surname.
No notes.
He put his phone back on the table and walked to the window.
The snow is still falling.
The night in Seoul is very quiet.
And he realized for the first time—
Some amounts, once deposited, will never be used to "pay back money."
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Several months later, the weather in New York began to warm up.
Ethan sat back down at that familiar table. Faraday on the screen was no longer the fervent figure with 400 points.
It's more like an aging machine—it can still run, but each time it starts up, it seems to struggle.
This time, he didn't rush to act.
The initiation of the second short position is not a decision, but a process.
He re-analyzed the data, marking each of the rebound patterns from the past few months:
Which are "true restorations," and which are just "last gasps to make things look better"?
The conclusion is simple:
The first decline is a valuation correction.
The second time will be a wavering of faith.
Faith is often more fragile than numbers.
Almost at the same time, he saw a very inconspicuous push notification on his phone.
It's not financial news, but an entertainment news story.
The title is very short:
SM Entertainment's new girl group aespa debuts
He had only glanced at it casually.
Until I saw that name.
She has really debuted.
Not just Winter.
It's aespa's Winter.
In the stage screenshot, she stood under the lights, her makeup more mature than he remembered, but her expression was still that serious and somewhat stubborn look.
Ethan stared at it for a long time.
That night, Ethan received a message.
very short.
"We've made our debut."
A small smiley face followed it.
His reply was also very simple:
"Congratulations."
A few seconds later, she sent another message.
"It's not very popular yet, but the company is quite large."
"There should still be a chance, right?"
There was no resentment or complaint in this statement.
There is only one very real, uncertain expectation.
Looking at the words, Ethan suddenly felt that they were very similar to his current situation.
He was also standing at the doorway of the "second time".
They know the opportunity is ahead, but they haven't actually opened the door yet.
They started chatting frequently.
There is no fixed time.
Sometimes it's a New York morning, corresponding to a Seoul night;
Sometimes it was just as he opened the market, and she had just finished her practice.
The content is also very fragmented.
The weather, what you ate, and whether you're tired.
She would send photos of the outdoor practice corridor; the lights were very bright, and there were very few people.
He would send me a picture of the sky outside his office window; the clouds in New York are always very low.
No one brought up "who we are" first.
It was as if they were all waiting in tacit agreement.
Ethan didn't tell her the day the second short position was launched.
It was a very ordinary trading day.
Faraday Future opened higher after seemingly positive news, but gave back all its gains within half an hour.
The familiar signal reappeared on the order book:
The volume doesn't match the price, making the rebound distorted.
Ethan opened the trading system and entered the command.
This time, the position is heavier than before.
It wasn't an impulse.
It was a decision made with permission, after calculation, and also after his own confirmation.
He didn't feel any sense of ceremony when he pressed the confirmation button.
He simply leaned back in his chair and let out a soft sigh.
That evening, he still sent her a message.
Are you busy today?
She replied very quickly.
"Just came off the stage."
"It's a bit messy, but it's okay."
He thought for a moment and asked:
Do you like your current life?
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
"I don't dislike it."
"Sometimes I'm scared, but I don't want to stop."
Ethan looked at the sentence and the corners of his mouth slightly turned up.
He replied:
"Me too."
Their first real "relationship" didn't have a clear beginning.
It wasn't a confession.
It wasn't an agreement.
But one day, she said in a message:
"If you're not busy, I'd like to see you next time."
He replied:
"I will make time for it."
This is enough.
aespa's debut did not receive a very enthusiastic response.
There was no breakout hit, nor did it garner immediate attention.
However, it has received positive reviews within the industry.
Resources are stable.
The company has a strong background.
Ethan saw it very clearly—
This is an upward trajectory that takes time.
Just like the second short position he's currently taking.
It wasn't overnight fame, but rather a gradual accumulation of experience.
During that time, they were all very busy, but they were all heading in the same direction.
He watched from a high-rise building in New York, as the market crumbled little by little;
She practiced the movements over and over again in the practice room in Seoul.
Both of them knew:
It's too early to talk about the future.
It's pointless to talk about the outcome now.
But they are all in their own worlds.
Stand firmly in your own position.
One late night, she suddenly sent me a message.
Do you think things will still be like this once I'm more settled?
Ethan did not answer immediately.
He stared at the screen, but what flashed through his mind was—
The curve in the account is getting longer.
He finally replied with four words.
"It will be clearer."
It's not a promise, but it's more real than a promise.
That day, he reopened his trading log and wrote a small note on the "Second Short" page:
"Starting time: Late spring in New York. The season she debuted."
He closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair.
The city lights outside the window remained on.
And he realized for the first time—
Some rises are not for the sake of winning.
It is so that one is worthy of it.