Evergreen Leaves

Preface: The deep roots of neon The evening breeze on the Bund carries the moisture of the Huangpu River and the financial atmosphere of Lujiazui, blowing on a young face on the terrace of the "Muse" bar. Lin Yu was leaning on the railing, the ice cube of Yamazaki whiskey in his hand melting slightly, reflecting the bright and unreal light of the city beneath his feet. The traffic on the Baidu Bridge outside downstairs is like a river of light, which is like a microcosm of his family's century-old wealth flowing endlessly. People call him "Master Lin" with a bit of joking, a bit of compliment, and a bit of invisible alienation. He is a symbol in Shanghai's social circle: handsome, classy and generous, and he is always surrounded by famous ladies and eager companions. He plays fashionable brands, collects limited-edition supercars, and posts seemingly casual but prominent fragments of his life on Instagram, which perfectly fits all the world's imaginations of a "fourth generation rich". But only when he is alone and returns to the old bungalow with red brick exterior walls and heavy history, located deep in the quiet Fa Tung, will the noise recede like the tide, leaving behind a weight that is enough to crush a young man. His roots are deeply embedded in the fabric of this city and have been winding for four generations.