The logic behind the deal has changed; Jensen Huang has resigned—the real drama has just begun!! In November, Washington and Silicon Valley were filled with the stench of blood. Almost simultaneously with the midterm elections settled and Trump and the Republicans losing their congressional majority, news tore the global tech world apart: Nvidia's board of directors held a special meeting and formally approved Jensen Huang's resignation as CEO. The timing was so coincidental, it was like a well-rehearsed script—the moment the election results were announced, a barrage of revelations about Huang flooded in, from his private life to board operations, from internal governance to long-standing issues. The intensity, the precision, and the sheer volume of information suggested a relentless pursuit to completely destroy Huang. Most of these so-called "explosive revelations" were old news, already well-known within Silicon Valley circles. The real question is: Why now of all times? Why immediately after the election? The spontaneous fermentation of public opinion is never like this—it's scattered, random, and lacks organization. What we're witnessing is a standard political purge: the ammunition is already prepared, the coordinates are already marked, just waiting for the trigger to be pulled. The hunt begins the moment the midterm elections start. To understand the essence of this turmoil, one must comprehend the deep-seated resentment within the Democratic camp towards Trump, a resentment that has accumulated layer by layer until it absolutely must be released. Firstly, there is the hatred of elitism. During Trump's years in office, he drastically reduced taxes for large corporations, comprehensively relaxed regulations, and condoned the monopolistic expansion of tech giants, personally cultivating a group of super-corporations with wealth comparable to nations. Nvidia, with its world-leading market capitalization, is the biggest beneficiary of this round of "national champion" policies. Yet, Jensen Huang still emotionally stated in a public forum: the unique institutional advantages of the United States in developing artificial intelligence come from President Trump. This statement is both a pledge of loyalty to Trump and a self-inflicted judgment. On the list of targets for political purges, nothing is more conspicuous than open allegiance. Secondly, there is resentment towards China policy. In the core battleground of great power competition—computing power—the Democrats believe the Trump camp's suppression of China has been far from sufficient: export controls on high-end chips have been repeatedly relaxed, China's large-scale computing has rapidly caught up by distilling American technology, and sanctions targeting key components such as optical modules have been delayed, ultimately leading to China's meteoric rise in computing power and its ability to rival the United States. In Washington's strategic narrative, Huang Renxun's "close relationship" with the Chinese market is not a matter of commercial rationality, but rather a matter of political stance. The defeat in the computing power competition needs a scapegoat, and no one is more suitable than the king of the computing power empire. Thirdly, there is the anger of those who seek revenge. Huang Renxun and Musk, among others, used real money and platform resources to help Trump's re-election campaign—a debt their opponents have always remembered. The ironclad rule of political struggle is: to bring down a person, cut off their money supply; to subdue a camp, purge its financial backers. Throughout history, financial backers have always been a necessary scapegoat for new leaders; the only difference is which one to target first. Fourth, there is the taboo of a clash of civilizations. This point is difficult to state explicitly, but everyone understands it. The Democratic Party, extremely sensitive to ideology and identity politics, finds it inherently difficult to accept that America's most core strategic lifeline—computing power—is in the hands of an Asian. The clash of civilizations described by Huntington will not be written into the official records of congressional hearings, but it will be etched into the subtext of every personnel purge. Skin color and surname, at times, carry more weight than performance and loyalty. Fifth, there is the chaos of internal strife within Silicon Valley. Nvidia is the center of the computing power empire, and Jensen Huang is the king of this empire. The GPU quota held by the king determines the life and death of the feudal lords. The humiliation of downstream model manufacturers queuing for chips and having to act subservient to him has long been a breeding ground for resentment. It's said that Anthropic is the one handing over the knife this time. When the king shows signs of weakness, the first to pounce are often not external enemies, but rather the feudal lords who have been his subjects for years. This drama, from the Medici family to Rockefeller, from The Merchant of Venice to The Wolf of Wall Street, has never changed its script, only the actors have changed. Therefore, it must be emphasized that Huang Renxun's resignation is not the end of a tabloid story, but the beginning of a dramatic upheaval. Pursuing Huang Renxun may very well be just the first domino to fall. In the US following the midterm elections, the political and technological cycles overlap and resonate, inevitably leading to turbulent times and a host of black swan events: the guillotine of antitrust will fall, regulatory iron curtains targeting tech giants will tighten, and policies toward China may escalate further in a "who's tougher" contest. The power landscape of Silicon Valley will be reshaped, and Musk's situation will likely be even more precarious than Huang's. Financial backers are lining up to face reckoning, and tech giants are lining up to be dismantled—this is the complete picture of this great upheaval. For us, understanding the big picture is more important than betting on specific directions. In the chaotic period of this great transformation, any one-sided bet is gambling on luck. The most rational strategy can be simply summarized as: reduce exposure, control risk, and observe from the sidelines. There are no safe positions in the eye of the storm. The chain reaction of political reckoning will erupt before market pricing. At this time, preserving strength and consolidating operations are more valuable than any offensive move. Of course, watching this drama unfold isn't pointless—the internal strife within the American computing empire presents China with its most precious window of opportunity for self-sufficiency in computing power; the infighting among Silicon Valley giants is a prelude to the restructuring of the global technological order. The end of an era is never a resounding crash, but rather begins silently from the moment the king is banished from the palace. Huang Renxun's departing figure from Nvidia headquarters may well be the first frame of this momentous transformation.