Why I started Triple Summit Advisors – Wei’s Story

“I’m sorry, grandpa.”

Whenever anybody asks me why I work as a financial advisor, helping people with their investments, those are always the first words that pop into my head.

My grandfather has always held an esteemed place in my life.  He was an honorable, kind, erudite man, oozing with confidence and charisma.  From my first recollections of him at the age of 3 to my last memory of him at age 30, he had always been larger than life, with a smile that could melt away your worst days and a commanding voice that could make you cast aside all doubts and obey.

Growing up as the eldest (and only) son of the eldest son of the eldest son (going back 5 generations), the weight of my last name is something that I can feel, if not quite grasp.  It’s not bone crushing, and my parents never used it as an excuse to push me into anything that I did not want to do.  At the same time, the expectation of excellence is always there, and I embraced the role of overachiever willingly, mostly to make my grandpa proud.  From the toughest public magnet school in New York, to the oldest university in America; from the grueling hours of investment banking, to the gut wrenching gyrations of distressed debt investing, I pushed myself to excel in every possible way.  Once I started working, I would explain by phone to my grandpa what I did for a living. Though he didn’t understand all the details, he genuinely offered me encouragement and advice.  It was never about the money or flashy displays of consumption.  Heck, when I see a $250,000 red Ferrari parked on the street, I don’t think about how awesome it would be to drive it, I worry about how expensive it would be to repair.  I enjoyed what I was doing because I felt a sense of pride, and I felt that my actions fulfilled the dreams of continuation for his legacy that came before, and hopefully will flourish after.

However, time waits for no man, even if that man is one of legendary status in your mind.  I travelled to China to see my grandpa in March of 2013, when he was in the terminal stages of his battle with cancer.  I was heartbroken when I saw him: The Hercules who I had always aspired to be was now a frail old man; dignified, yet still humble in the knowledge that he was approaching his final days.  He was ecstatic to see my wife and me, and I think he fought as hard as he could to appear happy and healthy because he knew I’d be there to visit him one last time. My grandpa would have liked to hold his great grandson in his hands, but it was not meant to be; he died that April and my son, Raymond, was born the following year.

I came back to the United States in a total daze. The last time I spoke to my grandpa was on April 3rd, 2013.   I was unemployed at the time and in the process of interviewing with a few different firms.  I thought that if I focused on my job search, I could avoid the enveloping feelings of dread, and life could continue with a semblance of normalcy.  When I picked up the phone and my father told me that grandpa wanted to speak with me, I knew that it would probably be the last time I spoke with him.  He was weaving in and out of consciousness from the anesthesia drugs, but I could tell that he wanted to tell me one last thing, one last pearl of wisdom to add to the necklace.

“Be a good worker, Wei, be a good worker.”                     

This is a very common phrase in Chinese, and I’ve probably heard it from him (and my parents and relatives) hundreds of times.  But, for some reason, on that day, knowing that these would be his last words to me, it just really, really, really pissed me off.  I knew anger was NOT the emotion I should have been feeling at that moment, but I couldn’t shake it.  I calmed myself down to the best of my ability, wished my grandpa a speedy recovery, and hung up the phone.

A “good worker”?  Seriously?  Is that all I was slated to be?  My grandpa fought the Japanese in World War II, took a bullet in the arm during the Chinese Civil War, and bent his knees but never his spirit during the Cultural Revolution. To hear this man who lived a glorious and wholesome life, one of revolution, tell me to be a good worker – a cog in the corporate machine, a minion in a mildly successful animated film – was jarring. The incongruity of his actions and last words was something that I simply could not reconcile.  I remember he said that he did what he did for the seemingly cliché sentiment of making life better for his kids and grandkids.  He struggled in life so that I myself wouldn’t have to.  But, whether I want to struggle or not, shouldn’t that be a choice that I make for myself?  A good worker maintains peace, prosperity, and the status quo, but what if I yearn for something more than the status quo?  What if the world is pretty good as it is, but still not as good as should be?  What if I value the enjoyment of my time on this Earth more than the monetary value attributable to it?

My grandpa passed away on April 10, 2013.  I did not attend the funeral in China because I had a final round interview with a firm in New York on that date.  I lied to myself: “I can’t be a good worker if I don’t have a job, so I am actually fulfilling the last wishes of my grandpa.”  I knew it was a lie, and not attending my grandpa’s funeral is my biggest regret in life.  I subsequently obtained a nice, cushy position at a renowned institutional asset management firm in Boston.  The thoughts that popped up in my mind due to my grandpa’s last words lingered, and although I performed my job well, it was also the first time that I approached my employment with a “woke” set of eyes.  I realized that it wasn’t all about the financial models, the details of the bankruptcy code, and the provisions of a bond indenture.  On Wall Street, just like on Main Street, there were battles of ego, transgressions of power, facades of control, and the hot potato of accountability (or lack thereof).  For the first time in my life, I didn’t see what I did for a living through rose-tinted glasses.  The honor and pride that I held for my profession melted away, and what was left was a gnawing sense of emptiness.  An indentured servant with 24K gold handcuffs is still, at the end of the day, an indentured servant.  By the middle of 2015, when the writing was on the wall that I needed to look for a new job (again), I knew I had to make a big change.

I’ve always been interested in personal finance.  From an East Asian cultural perspective, the basic concept of “earn more, spend less, save the difference” has always been second nature to me. But the longer I worked in the field, the more I realized that the “saving the difference” step wasn’t enough.  For most people:

a) There is an upper limit on how much you can earn

b) There is a lower limit on how much you can spend

c) It is not enough to simply “save” the difference. You need to invest some – even most – of the difference.

With that in mind, and my personal need to change careers, I thought, “what if I could combine my interest in personal finance with my experience in institutional asset management to help individuals achieve their financial goals?”  I began investigating the possibilities of opening my own financial advisory firm.  Luckily for me, one of my best buddies in college, Dan Kanivas, was also looking for a change in his career.  Through our countless interactions over the course of our 15-year friendship, I knew that our investing philosophies were aligned, and our skill sets complemented each other well.  More importantly, however, I trusted him and viewed his integrity as beyond reproach.  We hashed out the details over dumplings and spicy tofu at a basement restaurant in Boston’s Chinatown, and Triple Summit Advisors opened on January 1^st, 2016.

People often asks us, why did we name the firm Triple Summit?  It is a good question, and it ties directly into how we want to help people.  At its essence, financial planning can be broken down into three components, or three summits to conquer.  First, personal finance serves as the foundation, the bronze first summit, and we help clients achieve a stable foundation with budgeting and expense management.  Second, investment management serves as the silver second summit; we help clients who have conquered the first summit to grow their net worth through our investment management.  Last but certainly not least, estate planning is the golden third summit, where we help clients preserve the masterpiece that is their life’s work by guiding them in regard to wills, trusts, and legacy planning.  Today, I am no longer just a worker, I am a trusted guide and pathfinder.  I don’t have handcuffs chaining me to a dollar figure associated with my time, and I feel a sense of joy in helping people conquer the three financial summits.  Through Triple Summit Advisors, I am free.

“I’m sorry, grandpa.  I refuse to be just another good worker.  I don’t want to just play it safe, as implied by your last words.  Instead, I want to live as you have lived: with purpose and zeal.  The revolution is not yet over.”