Seo-ah first learned to read the market in the fall of her twenty-first year.
She was in her second year on the Research Team. Every morning, Seo-ah compiled overseas market trends, analyzed data by domestic sector, and wrote corporate visit reports. It was her routine. And within that routine, Seo-ah found a pattern.
The semiconductor industry cycle was turning down.
The news was still talking about a boom. Securities-firm reports were maintaining their Buy ratings. But the data Seo-ah was tracking told a different story. A slight decline in raw-material prices. Rising inventory days. Signs that capital expenditures were being scaled back. Each one was small, but when she put them together, the direction became clear.
Seo-ah wrote a report. “Second-Half Outlook for the Semiconductor Sector: Analyzing Signals of an Industry-Cycle Shift.” Five A4 pages. It was the longest report she had ever written.
She took it to Jung Min-hyuk.
Jung Min-hyuk read it. He didn’t draw a single red line through it. Instead, he looked at Seo-ah.
“Are you sure about this?”
“The data is telling me that.”
“What the data says and how the market moves are two different things. Markets move on emotion. And right now, the market is still optimistic.”
“That’s why I think this is an opportunity. While the market is moving on emotion, we can move first based on the data.”
Jung Min-hyuk smiled. It was the first smile Seo-ah had ever seen from him. Just the corners of his mouth lifting—a smile of acknowledgment.
“Put it out.”
The report was distributed throughout the company. The response was cold. “A high-school graduate analyst thinks she can predict a semiconductor downturn?” Some people laughed. Others ignored it. Seo-ah didn’t care.
Three months later, semiconductor stocks turned down.
At exactly the time and by exactly the margin her report had predicted. When the market fell into a panic, the clients who had read Seo-ah’s report avoided the losses. Those who hadn’t couldn’t.
Seo-ah’s name began to spread throughout the industry.
Success brought light and shadow at the same time.
The light was simple. More clients began seeking out Seo-ah’s reports. The securities firm’s revenue climbed. The CEO learned Seo-ah’s name. Her salary increased. Seo-ah adjusted the numbers in her household ledger. She increased the money she gave her grandmother once again.
The shadow was more complicated.
Park Jun-ho, a senior colleague on the same team, called Seo-ah in. It was a conference room. He closed the door.
“Han Seo-ah, let’s have a quick talk.”
Park Jun-ho was a graduate of Seoul National University. He had been on the Research Team three years longer than Seo-ah. Before she arrived, he had been the team’s most closely watched analyst.
“That semiconductor report turned out well.”
“Thank you.”
“But Han Seo-ah, shouldn’t you have shown it to me first before submitting the report?”
Seo-ah looked at Park Jun-ho.
“I showed it to the manager first.”
“Not the manager. Your senior on the team. There’s an order to these things.”
Seo-ah understood. This wasn’t about procedure. It was about pride. He couldn’t stand having a junior high-school graduate receive attention before he did.
“I’ll do that next time.”
Seo-ah lowered her head. This wasn’t the time to fight. Seo-ah knew how to distinguish between the times to fight and the times to endure. She had learned that at ten years old. When her grandmother knelt before the debt collectors, Seo-ah hadn’t rushed out. She had endured. Enduring wasn’t losing. It was waiting for the right moment.
But Park Jun-ho didn’t stop there.
He told her to add his name as a co-author to her next report. Seo-ah did. And to the report after that. And the one after that. Seo-ah’s analysis, Seo-ah’s data, Seo-ah’s conclusions. But there were two names on the byline.
Seo-ah endured. For now.
Jung Min-hyuk knew. He knew Seo-ah was holding back. But he didn’t intervene. That was Jung Min-hyuk’s way. Testing her. Watching to see how Seo-ah would break through the situation.
That night, Seo-ah went home and opened her household ledger. She looked at the numbers. The debt was shrinking. Slowly, but surely. Seo-ah thought as she stared at the figures.
For now, I’ll endure. But I won’t endure forever.
Seo-ah closed the ledger and went to sleep. She had to wake up in four hours.
[Coaching Insight]
Your first success isn’t a celebration. It’s the beginning of a test.
Once you start climbing up from the bottom, two kinds of people will appear: those who acknowledge your success and those who can’t stand it. The second kind will always appear. And most of them will be in positions higher than yours.
What you need at that moment is “relationship management.”
Learn to distinguish between the times to fight and the times to endure. Enduring isn’t losing. It’s conserving your energy. Your energy is limited. Will you spend it fighting over your pride, or will you save it for your next success? The answer is clear.
But remember this: Endurance has a deadline. Enduring forever isn’t endurance. It’s giving up.