After Eight Years of Rise and Fall, Our Reunion Reveals an Unbridgeable Divide

Eight years ago, during plum rain season, outside the gates of Shanghai University, beside the Liu family’s Porsche, all three members of the family humiliated me mercilessly. Liu’s father sneered. “A toad reaching for a swan will only end up falling to its death.” Liu’s mother was scathing. “My daughter never loved you. You were just a toy she got tired of and threw away.” Liu Piaopiao tore up the love letter I’d written and said coldly, “We’re not from the same world.” In a fit of anger, I put down my pen and joined the military. After eight years of bloody battles and countless brushes with death, I became the youngest major general. When my parents died in a car accident, I left the military and returned home. This time, I was a high-ranking official in Shanghai, with power in my hands. We met again eight years later at a bidding conference. She arrived in all her finery, unaware that I now held her family’s fate in my hands. This time, it was my turn to ask her: Can you reach my world now?