A $50 million margin call? I'll short Wall Street.

He looked at the number he had written down and thought for a while.

Ten billion US dollars. That's almost double the upper limit of the valuation suggested by Stern.

In the current market environment, merger and acquisition valuations in the global asset management industry have shrunk significantly due to the credit crisis. Buyers willing to put up $10 billion in cash to acquire an asset management company in the summer of 2008 could probably be counted on one hand on the entire planet.

More precisely, not a single finger on that hand could possibly stand up.

Fuld knew that it was almost impossible to find a buyer at that price.

But he doesn't care.

Because his purpose in writing down this number was not to actually complete the deal in the short term.

It's to create the impression that "we are actively exploring strategic options."

He could have the investment banking division take this 10 billion dollar offer and go around the market, talking to a few private equity funds and having a few coffees with one or two global asset management giants.

The news will leak out. On Wall Street, nothing stays secret—and analysts will write in their reports: "Lehman Brothers is reportedly considering spinning off its Neuberger Berman asset management subsidiary for approximately $10 billion."

The purpose of this passage is not to facilitate a transaction. It is to support the narrative.

"Lehman Brothers was actively managing its portfolio. Lehman had contingency plans. Lehman wasn't just waiting to die."

The negotiations with KDB follow a similar logic.

He now has two cards to play. One is the KDB investment negotiations. The other is the Neuberger Berman divestiture plan.

These two cards are logically mutually exclusive.

If KDB's investment is successful, Lehman Brothers will not need to sell Neuberger Berman—the new capital will be enough to alleviate the pressure.

If Neuberger Berman is successfully divested, Lehman Brothers will need less money from KDB – a cash inflow of billions could fill the capital gap, and KDB would lose interest in Lehman, since Neuberger Berman is Lehman's core asset.

You can't complete two paths at the same time. But you can start two paths at the same time.

In the current market environment, what matters isn't which path leads to success. What matters is ensuring everyone—investors, analysts, rating agencies, counterparties—sees that Lehman Brothers is moving. Moving in a certain direction, not standing still waiting to be swallowed up.

And—what if?

What if someone is willing to offer 10 billion to buy Lu Bomei? Or even 9 billion would be fine; his standards aren't that rigid.

Fuld picked up the intercom on the table.

"Call Stern up here for me."

Five minutes later, Stern pushed open the door and walked in.

His expression was more composed than when Fuld had reprimanded him in this office the last time, but the weariness in his eyes remained. For the past three weeks, he had been struggling to prevent Neuberger Berman's clients from panic-buying their shares due to negative news about Lehman Brothers.

This matter consumed a lot of his energy and became increasingly difficult. Every time Lehman Brothers made the news, several clients' risk control departments would call to ask, "If Lehman Brothers collapses, is our money safe?"

"Sit down," Fuld said.

Stern sat down on the sofa. He noticed that the Lubermay divestiture plan on the table had been opened. There were creases in the corners of the pages, and Fuld's handwriting in the blank spaces.

His heart skipped a beat.

The last time he proposed this plan, he almost got eaten alive by Fuld.

"I've reviewed your proposal again."

Fuld's tone was completely different from last time. There was no roaring, no metaphor of "cutting off the right hand." It even carried a calm that made Stern wary.

Fuld was rarely calm. When Fuld was calm, it usually meant that he had made a decision, and that decision contained some things you might not like.

"The valuation is too low," Fuld said.

Stern's heart sank.

"Richard, five to six billion is based on comparable transactions in the current market—"

"The current market is distorted by panic."

Fuld interrupted him, his tone still calm, but with an undeniable certainty: "Neuberger & McLennan manages 200 billion, with annualized returns exceeding 300 million, and its portfolio has zero subprime exposure. In a normal market environment, what would it be worth?"

Stern thought for a moment. "Under normal circumstances...maybe eight billion."

"Ten billion."

Stern looked at Fuld.

"Ten billion. That's my bottom line. I won't sell for less than that."

Stern's first thought was: there will be no buyer at this price.

His second thought was: Fuld knows there won't be a buyer at this price.

His third reaction took longer to form. He sat there, looking at Fuld's face, which had regained some color from today's reaction, trying to understand the logic behind the decision.

Then he understood.

Fuld wasn't selling Lubomai. Fuld was using the act of "selling Lubomai" to buy time and narrative space.

A price tag of 10 billion would deter all potential buyers. However, the news that "Lehman is exploring strategic options with Neuberger Berman at a valuation of 10 billion" would give the market the impression that "Lehman is actively trying to save itself."

Meanwhile, negotiations with KDB continued. They were also stalling, using the premise that "someone is interested" to maintain confidence.

Fuld didn't need to reach the finish line. He only needed the act of walking.

The way I walk signifies "I haven't stopped." On Wall Street, stopping means death.

Stern looked at Fuld. Over the past forty years, this man had used roars, threats, and unwavering willpower to transform Lehman Brothers from a second-rate brokerage firm into the fourth-largest investment bank on Wall Street.

That kind of willpower is a driving force when things are going well, but when things are going against you, it becomes something more dangerous—a force that makes people refuse to acknowledge reality.

10 billion.

In this market, this number isn't a quote. It's a wall. A wall that Fuld built between himself and reality.

On this side of the wall, Neuberger Berman is worth 10 billion, KDB will accept his terms, the market will continue to rebound, and the SEC's injunction will forever protect Lehman's stock price.

On the other side of the wall—

Stern didn't want to think about the other side of the wall. At least not today. Lehman Brothers rose sixteen percent today. He could choose not to think about it today.

"Ten billion."

Stern heard his own voice say, "I'll have the team prepare the materials in this direction."

"good."

Fuld picked up the cigar still burning in the ashtray and took a puff. Smoke billowed from his nostrils, forming two symmetrical, slowly dissipating white pillars in the evening sunlight.

"Also," Fuld said, looking out the window, his voice even softer than before, "tell KDB that we're still conducting an internal evaluation. Tell them to wait a few more days."

"Richard, the patience of the Koreans—"

"Make them wait."

Fuld turned to look at Stern. His eyes appeared even deeper in the backlight, a depth that belonged to an old beast, a mixture of weariness and lingering aggression.

"The stock price went up 16 percent today, Michael. The SEC is on our side. Paulson is on our side. Let the Koreans see this. Let them recalculate whether their $8 offer was really enough to get them to the negotiating table at Lehman Brothers."

Stern stood up and picked up the plan on the table that Fuld had written "ten billion" on.

"I'll arrange it."

He walked to the door. He opened it. Then he paused.

It wasn't about turning back to say anything. It was about his body needing a second to complete one action—to suppress everything he felt in this office and put on a face that could walk down the corridor, return to his office, and face his team.

10 billion.

Koreans should wait a few more days.

Neither path will lead to the end. But the act of walking will continue. Until—

Until what?

Will the market continue to rebound, turning Fuld's bet into the right decision?

Or will it be until the next IndyMac falls, turning today's 16% into a final burst of energy before its demise?

Stern didn't know.

He walked out of the office and closed the door behind him.

The fluorescent lights in the corridor shone on his face, making it appear deathly pale and devoid of warmth.

He took a few steps, then pulled a card from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. It was white, handwritten, and contained only a name and a phone number.

Lance Walker.

Stern's finger lingered on the edge of the card for a second.

He then put it back in his pocket and continued walking.