novelraw Chapter 1 begins the story in Shanghai's three worlds.
Chapter 1 begins the story in Shanghai's three worlds.
At seven o'clock in the morning, the Shanghai skyline had already shed its gloom, and the light of day had spread out. The Huangpu River was shrouded in mist, casting soft silhouettes of the skyscrapers on both banks. The river breeze, carrying a cool, damp air, swept across the river, through the crowded subway hubs, past the office buildings in the city center, and finally stopped in front of the cloud-like windows of Pudong. The entire city was completely swept into the torrent of the morning rush hour, slowly turning.
During the morning rush hour, the subway cars are packed with people. As the doors close, they slowly move forward, carrying with them a heavy sense of bustling activity and exhaustion. The metal body rubs against the tracks, producing a continuous and muffled rumble. The entire train is like a giant steel python, winding its way through the city's underground, carrying countless people rushing to make a living and heading towards their respective destinations.
Su Xiao leaned against the glass in the corner of the carriage, her head resting slightly against the cool window. The exhaustion from working overtime for days made it hard for her to keep her eyes open. In the swaying and bumping carriage, she unknowingly fell into a deep sleep. Her brows were slightly furrowed, and the corners of her mouth were taut. Even in her short sleep, she still felt a tension, as if even a moment of relaxation had become a luxury.
The carriage was filled with a cacophony of voices: short videos playing from phones, passengers' hushed conversations, and the rumble of the train, all blending together to create the unique clamor of the morning rush hour. Some people were glued to their phones, the screen light reflecting on their numb faces; others had their eyes closed, resting, their bodies swaying gently with the train's inertia; migrant workers in overalls, clutching burlap sacks, huddled in a corner, trying to avoid the well-dressed office workers around them, afraid of brushing their dust against others.
Suddenly, a muffled thud, the sound of cola spraying, pierced the noise, followed by a female office worker's gasp of surprise. The brown liquid splattered on her white shirt, spreading into a large, glaring stain.
Su Xiao woke up with a start, her eyelashes fluttering. When she opened her eyes, her gaze was still somewhat dazed. A few specks of light brown cola foam clung to her cheeks, and her wisps of hair were slightly damp with sweat, clinging to her smooth forehead. Her gaze was somewhat unfocused, and it took a few seconds for it to slowly focus, allowing her to make out everything that had happened in the carriage.
She looked up and saw a young migrant worker standing not far away, clutching an empty Coke can. His fingertips were covered in rough cracks, his knuckles were bluish-black, and his face was full of panic and embarrassment. He kept bowing his head and apologizing. He wanted to go forward and help wipe the stains off the white-collar worker's sleeve, but he was too timid to approach. He was as awkward as a child who had done something wrong.
"Don't you know you can't eat on the subway? What kind of manners are you!" came a dissatisfied passenger's sharp rebuke, filled with undisguised disdain. Several pairs of eyes turned to them, some with sympathy, some with indifference, and some with amusement, but no one stepped forward to help.
Su Xiao raised her hand and gently wiped the foam off her cheek with her fingertips, which were slightly cool. Her gaze calmly swept over the patched bag at her feet and over the various people in the carriage. She didn't speak or show any extra expression. She simply straightened her slightly wrinkled clothes and slung her canvas bag over her shoulder.
The train announcement sounded; it was her stop. The mechanical female voice echoed through the carriage, reminding her that yet another journey was coming to an end.
The car door slowly opened, and the crowded people surged toward the exit instantly. Su Xiao was swept up in the flow of people and was pushed forward involuntarily. Her shoulders and arms were constantly bumped by the people around her, her back was pressed against the hard edges of backpacks, and the canvas bag in her hand was squeezed out of shape, but she still held it tightly in her hand and refused to let go.
Having finally squeezed out of the train car and onto the platform, she breathed a slight sigh of relief. The cool morning air filled her chest, clearing her mind of some of the fog. She smoothed her disheveled hair, straightened her clothes, and continued walking briskly towards the subway exit, merging into the morning rush of commuters, quickly disappearing into the dense crowd.
At 7:40 a.m., a black sedan slowly pulled into a parking space in front of the Zhongjian Group office building. Its tires left a shallow trail of water as they rolled over the puddles. The gleaming car body shone coldly in the morning light, standing out starkly against the somewhat dilapidated streets around it.
Yu Chao stepped out of the car, his suit slightly wrinkled, the top two buttons of his collar loosely undone, his tie askew, his eyes heavy with weariness, his brows drooping listlessly, his whole face radiating the emptiness drained by alcohol. Last night he had accompanied President Pan to a business dinner; President Pan had left early, but Yu Chao was in a terrible state, drinking until midnight, downing both baijiu and red wine, his hangover throbbing, his temples throbbing, and even his gait feeling unsteady.
He raised a hand to rub his throbbing temples, then quickly tidied his hair and forcefully smoothed the wrinkles in his suit, trying to make himself look more presentable. Today, leaders from the urban construction department were coming to inspect the affordable housing project, the most important prestige project for Zhongjian Group at the moment, allowing no room for error. He dared not delay even a moment, forcing his swaying body forward, he hurried towards the office building, each step filled with haste and tension.
The office area was blindingly bright with incandescent light, its cold, lifeless glow illuminating rows of neat workstations. Computer screens gleamed with a cold light, and the incessant clatter of keyboards sounded like relentless raindrops. Telephone lines clung to desks, the receivers occasionally picked up, hushed conversations rising and falling, everyone mechanically operating at their respective posts.
Yu Chao sat at his workstation, forcing himself to work through project reports despite a hangover. The numbers on the screen blurred before his eyes, forcing him to squint and repeatedly concentrate. He frequently pressed his temples, rubbing his throbbing forehead with his fingertips. The water on his desk was cold, fine droplets clinging to the glass, untouched. The office area bustled with people, footsteps and voices mingling, but he felt isolated in another world, left only with exhaustion and inescapable pressure.
Inside the upscale apartment, the curtains were half-drawn, allowing the pale golden morning light to slant into the living room, casting a soft glow on the gleaming marble floor. The room was luxuriously decorated, with leather sofas, crystal chandeliers, and imported carpets; every detail exuded an air of refined elegance built with money.
Pan Jianhua sat at a table by the window, in front of him a pristine white tablecloth, bone china plates, gleaming silver cutlery, a frosted glass coffee cup, and a shallow cereal bowl. Golden-brown, crispy toast, a perfectly fried egg with a crunchy edge and runny yolk, two glistening slices of bacon, a small bowl of refreshing vegetable salad, and a cup of steaming black coffee—all the Western-style breakfast meticulously prepared by the woman beside him.
He sat relaxed, leaning back in his chair, eating his meal slowly and deliberately. The knife and fork gently touched the plate, producing a soft, crisp sound; his movements were leisurely, carrying the composure of someone accustomed to a position of power. The effects of last night's social engagements had long since dissipated in the comfort of his presence, leaving only a sense of languor and contentment. The woman stood beside him, attentively serving him, her movements gentle, her eyes and brows serene.
After finishing his meal and getting up, the woman stepped forward and gently straightened his collar, smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt. Mr. Pan nodded slightly, took the handbag, and changed into a well-tailored dark suit. Slightly overweight, he still exuded an air of authority. He walked slowly towards the door without turning back, the door closing softly behind him, shutting out the tenderness within.
The driver was already waiting downstairs. The black sedan smoothly entered the traffic and merged into the city's main thoroughfare during the morning rush hour. The road was bustling with cars, their headlights forming a flowing river of light. The sedan weaved through the traffic, slowly heading towards the Zhongjian Group.
At 9:00 AM sharp, the area outside the gate of Zhongjian Group was bustling with activity.
Dozens of migrant workers blocked the entrance, their clothes worn and covered in dust, clutching crumpled IOUs and settlement slips, their dark, rough faces etched with anxiety and anger. They stood at the door, shouting that they wanted to settle their owed wages with Pan Jianhua.
As soon as Mr. Pan's car arrived downstairs, it was surrounded by a crowd, unable to move forward or backward. Some people were banging on the car, some were blocking the hood, and some were shouting angrily. The shouts, banging on the door, and arguments instantly exploded, completely blocking the entrance to the building. Security guards stepped forward to stop them, but were pushed aside by the agitated crowd. The scene was chaotic, and the noise reached the sky, shattering the usual tranquility of the office building.