Manhattan Doesn't Believe in Tears

I would like to write this book to commemorate my study abroad life: I am the child of a businessman. I grew up under the eyes of my father. I was taught to smile and be sensible when meeting elders. Earlier than my peers, I understood how to be worldly, weigh the pros and cons, and be a good match. I can read people's hearts, see through tricks, and can even accurately predict what you are going to do. In Manhattan, New York, in this coordinate where every inch of air is marked with a price, I met Lin Qing. She comes from a small town and is the only child in her family who has high hopes. She breaks down life into clear goals and believes that climbing up is the meaning of everything. I saw through her plan to get closer to me and her desire for my background, but I tried to cross all the boundaries I had been taught since I was young when it came to loving her. I personally paved the way for her, persuaded her to study abroad, and described a bigger world to her. I thought it was affectionate, but later I realized it was more like a diversion. This is a doomed ending and a misalignment of the logic of survival. What she wanted was to run without any end in mind, but I was trained to never lose control. Later, I walked towards the road that was closest to happiness but also the most sober, but she was no longer on that road.