Divine Grammar

In 2001, when I was 29 years old, I stood on the balcony of Xizhimen, Beijing, and decided to sell this 100-square-meter house and go to the UK to study for an MBA. 600,000, All my belongings, is exactly equal to one year's tuition and living expenses at Durham University. A home, another year of study. This is the most precise equivalent exchange. On 9/11, I was supposed to leave. The flight was cancelled, which parents said was a sign. But two weeks later, I was still on a plane. In Durham, I learned the "grammar" of the Western elite: the knife and fork etiquette of high-table dinners, the hierarchical order under the black robes of the college, and the eternal discipline-"This is how civilized people eat." In March 2003, I arrived in Hong Kong during the SARS outbreak. The city was in panic and employment was delayed. I saw the grinning City God for the first time in front of the ancient temple in Wan Chai - I didn't know what he was laughing at, but I was terrified. Five years later, I have learned to switch seamlessly between Cantonese, Mandarin, and English, and I have learned to communicate with mainland customers, Hong Kong colleagues, and international investors with ease. I succeeded. In 2008, Lehman collapsed and I was laid off. I went to Singapore and spent another 17 years becoming the head of a financial institution. In this city that is neither east nor west, I found a place. In 2025, I returned to Hong Kong and walked into that ancient temple for the fourth time. The city god was still laughing. This time, I finally understood what he was laughing at. I exchanged a home for a world. I succeeded, but some had nowhere to go. This is my choice, this is my price.