On the top floor of Shanghai Tower, Guantao Capital's command center, having weathered the "black swan" storm, resembled a wounded giant licking its wounds while undergoing profound introspection and reconstruction. The air no longer carried the driven, exhilarated ambition of before, but a sedimented gravity mingled with the low hum of data streams. On the massive curved screen, the fund's net‑asset‑value curve, though having halted its cliff‑like plunge, bore that deep, gaping drawdown wound like a gruesome scar etched in every trader's heart, and in the profound gaze of Mozi's eyes.
The storm gradually subsided, but what remained for Mozi was far more than the staggering loss figures on the ledger. It was an earthquake at the level of belief. The precise mathematical models he relied on and took pride in—before genuine systemic risk—exposed their inherent fragility. Models could handle probability, optimize expectations, even simulate a degree of panic, but they could not quantify sudden geopolitical ruptures, nor foresee what irrational collective behavior might emerge from human masses under extreme pressure. This event was like a bucket of ice‑water, sobering his somewhat naive imagination of "capital's power"—capital might guide trends, could manipulate winds and waves in liquid‑rich markets, but faced with real epochal tides and structural shocks, it too could evaporate instantly, or become an accomplice exacerbating turmoil.
He began re‑examining the ultimate purpose of accumulating such vast capital. If capital's meaning lay merely in numerical growth, in dominating virtual financial games, then this empire built on sand dunes, however glorious, could hardly escape the fate of the next "black swan." Xiuxiu's breakthrough in lithography technology—that perfectly synchronized "dance" of dual‑stage, and the power her success represented—the solid, tangible alteration of the physical world, elevating national core competitiveness—stood in stark contrast to the ethereal turbulence he experienced in financial markets.
Her success was like a powerful beam piercing the fog of the financial world, illuminating a more substantive path. He realized capital's true power might lie not in its own inflation, but in its ability to **empower the real economy**—especially empowering hard‑tech industries like Xiuxiu's, with strategic significance and high technological barriers.
Once this idea took root, it grew rapidly. He convened the core strategic investment team, no longer discussing next quarter's alpha strategies, but unfurling industrial maps of China's semiconductor, artificial intelligence, biotechnology, new‑energy, and other hard‑tech sectors.
"Gentlemen," Mozi's voice echoed in the conference room, calm yet carrying undeniable force, "we need to redefine our mission. 'Guantao' should no longer merely observe the ebb and flow of capital markets, but become the 'wave‑rider' propelling the rise of China's core technology. Starting today, establish the 'Dawn Tech Fund,' systematically, long‑term investing a portion of our assets into these fields."
Some team members showed doubt. Venture capital (VC), especially early‑stage hard‑tech investment, and their secondary‑market quantitative trading were almost two different worlds. The latter relied on data, models, speed; the former depended more on judgment of technological trends, assessment of team capabilities, and… immense patience and capacity to withstand failure.
"Mozi, hard‑tech investments have long cycles, high risks, high exit uncertainty. This seems incompatible with our existing strategies and capital nature…" a senior partner cautiously voiced.
"I know," Mozi interrupted, his gaze sweeping over them. "But this is precisely what we must do. Finance's essence is serving the real economy, a tool for resource allocation. When the tool itself detaches excessively from the real economy, self‑cycling breeds bubbles and risk. Haven't we just learned this lesson deeply enough? We need to anchor capital to genuine value creation."
He began elaborating **the intrinsic logic of capital empowering the real economy**:
"Capital to innovative enterprises is like blood to the body. It can provide indispensable support in several key dimensions:
First, **R&D drive**. Hard‑tech breakthroughs demand sustained, massive R&D investment—purchasing expensive equipment, attracting top talent, repeated trial‑and‑error. Without capital support, many ideas stop at the lab stage.
Second, **production‑ramp scaling**. From lab sample to mass production lies a huge chasm, requiring building or retrofitting production lines—enormous fixed‑asset investment.
Third, **ecosystem building**. Especially in long‑chain industries like semiconductors, upstream‑downstream synergy is needed. Capital can help form industrial clusters, lowering overall transaction costs, accelerating tech iteration.
Fourth, **risk‑sharing**. High‑tech exploration inevitably accompanies high risk; single institutions or governments cannot bear all risk. The dispersed‑investment nature of venture capital precisely provides a risk‑buffering mechanism for societal‑level innovation.
Our capital should become the foundation beneath engineers and scientists like Xiuxiu, not a self‑game in castles in the air."
The reasoning was clear, but execution required methods. Mozi turned to concrete **venture‑capital valuation models**. These differed significantly from secondary‑market DCF (discounted cash flow) or relative valuation methods.
"For early‑stage hard‑tech companies like Xiuxiu's, traditional financial valuation methods almost fail." Mozi wrote several key concepts on the whiteboard. "They may have no positive cash flow for years, not even stable revenue. Their value lies at its core in **technological barriers, team capability, and market potential**."
He detailed several mainstream valuation approaches suitable for such investments:
"**Venture Capital Method**: Among the most common. First, we forecast the target company's potential value at some future point (typically anticipated exit—IPO or acquisition). This forecast is based on comprehensive judgment of the sector's ceiling, tech‑lead degree, market‑share potential. Then, based on our required rate of return (typically very high, compensating high risk), discount this terminal value back to present, obtaining post‑money valuation. E.g., we estimate Xiuxiu's company could reach 10‑billion valuation in five years; we demand 10× return → current post‑money valuation is 1 billion."
"**Real Option Valuation**: This treats investment as purchasing an 'option.' Our invested capital is like the option premium, obtaining rights to share the company's future huge growth potential, with known loss limit (the investment amount). Particularly suitable for projects with uncertain tech routes but extremely high returns if successful. Xiuxiu's team tackling next‑gen EUV tech inherently contains a series of 'technology options.'"
"**Scorecard Method** and **Comparable Transaction Analysis**: Supplementary methods. The Scorecard assigns scores across multiple dimensions—management team (highest weight), tech advantage, market size, competitive environment—comparing with similar early‑stage companies to adjust valuation. Comparable Transaction Analysis references financing valuations of similar‑tech, similar‑stage companies in the market."
"But most importantly," Mozi stressed, "all these models are merely tools. For hard‑tech investment, **qualitative judgment often outweighs quantitative calculation**. We need deep understanding of the technology itself, judging feasibility of tech routes, assessing team's execution capability and resilience. This demands our investment team possess extremely strong tech‑industry background and learning capability."
He unhesitatingly targeted Xiuxiu's lithography‑machine R&D company first. Not only due to personal sentiment, but based on cool strategic judgment: China's weakest, most constrained link in the semiconductor industrial chain is high‑end lithography machines; breaking this loop holds immeasurable strategic value; Xiuxiu's team already proved profound tech accumulation and engineering‑implementation capability with dual‑stage success; moreover, through Xiuxiu he could gain deeper understanding of the company's true status and tech progress—a unique informational advantage.
Due diligence, valuation negotiation, term agreements… all proceeded efficiently and professionally. Mozi personally participated in key aspects. He offered not merely capital, but also leveraging his global network to help the company find scarce components and talent, and using Guantao's data‑analysis strengths to help optimize supply‑chain management and production processes. He aimed to build a "deep empowerment" investment model.
The night before final investment‑agreement signing, Mozi stood alone by the office's floor‑to‑ceiling window, gazing at the dazzling lights on both banks of the Huangpu River. The flow of capital was about to shift subtly because of his one decision. This capital would transform into more precise components in Xiuxiu's lab, more powerful computing, salaries for more excellent engineers… It would directly participate in that "war" to conquer the peak of lithography technology. This sensation of converting virtual capital into real‑world progress gave him an unprecedented feeling of solidity and meaning, far surpassing the thrill of financial‑market battles.
Yet, the universe of emotion was not as easy to plan as capital allocation. His admiration for Xiuxiu grew daily—that woman who shed tears alone after success, embraced him silently in the night—her tenacity, her purity, her devoted passion for her domain deeply attracted him. Simultaneously, his intellectual resonance with Yue'er, that mutual inspiration and soul‑deep mirroring, was equally indispensable light in his life.
He realized he could not, nor wished, to define this complex emotion using mundane either‑or frameworks. This violated his nature of pursuing "truth." He decided to be frank with Yue'er. Not to seek permission or forgiveness, but from absolute trust in Yue'er's wisdom, and respect for the bond transcending ordinary emotional connections between them.
He dialed Yue'er's video call. On‑screen Yue'er seemed just emerged from the sea of mathematics, gaze still carrying a haze of thought; background was a desk piled with books and scratch paper.
"Yue'er," Mozi began directly, tone calm yet solemn, "there's something I think you should know."
Yue'er tilted her head slightly, quietly watching him, awaiting.
"Regarding Xiuxiu," Mozi choosing words, "my feelings… exceed ordinary friends or partners. I admire her, care for her. That time seeing her wasn't merely congratulating technical success." He expressed his feelings frankly, without concealment or exaggeration.
The video end was silent momentarily. No surprise or anger appeared on Yue'er's face; she simply listened quietly, eyes profound, as if understanding a complex mathematical proposition. Then, she softly, almost imperceptibly sighed, her lips curving in a comprehending, not bitter, smile.
"Mozi," her voice as ever clear and calm, "the function of emotion, its domain and codomain, might inherently be broader than we imagine. The three of us walk paths seemingly parallel yet possibly intersecting in some higher‑dimensional space. Your feelings for Xiuxiu—I understand."
Her reply, so rational, so transparent, like a light instantly dispelling the last unease and shadow in Mozi's heart. She didn't question, didn't grieve, but from a higher dimension understood and accepted this emotional complexity.
"Xiuxiu and I… we also have a special connection," Yue'er continued slowly, as stating an objective fact, "that understanding between people pursuing the extreme in respective fields. The three of us perhaps form a… stable singularity."
Mozi was stunned. He hadn't expected Yue'er to respond thus, nor that she'd use a mathematical‑physical concept like "stable singularity" to metaphorize their relationship. This utterly surpassed ordinary emotional narrative, bearing Yue'er's unique thought imprint, yet oddly struck the core.
"Thank you, Yue'er." Mozi said sincerely, heart filled with inexpressible gratitude and a deeper reverence. Her understanding wasn't compromise, but a wise choice based on strong inner self and profound insight.
"Capital begins seeking its foundation," Yue'er shifted topic, gaze carrying a glint of approval, "this is an important 'phase transition.' Compared to this, the topological structure of emotion can be left for time to evolve gradually."
The call ended. Mozi stood long by the window, inner waves surging. Capital's awakening led him to a new direction; emotional frankness lifted a shackle. He knew the road ahead remained full of challenges—tech investment's length and uncertainty, the trio relationship's subtlety and future possible social pressures. But now, he felt an unprecedented clarity and firmness.
He looked eastward, toward the city where Xiuxiu was, also the direction China's high‑tech industry was striving to rise. His code would no longer merely write laws of capital flow, but attempt to compile the code of technological breakthroughs, to write a future with more real‑world support and national sentiment. And in this future, two unique bright lights—one from mathematics' profound universe, one from physics' precise light—interweaved with his financial code‑light, illuminating the path ahead.