In July, Jiangcheng felt like it had been sealed inside an airtight steamer. The asphalt softened under the blazing sun, and the air was thick with heat and exhaust fumes. Even the cicadas sounded listless. Shen Ci stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of a downtown skyscraper, a freshly mixed whiskey between his fingers. Beyond the glass stood row upon row of high-rises, while traffic streamed below. At just twenty-three, he had led a cross-provincial corporate merger that had earned his company tens of billions in profit, becoming the youngest legend in the entire financial world. The praise from the meeting room still lingered
