Chapter 6 - Peace Hotel

"Brother Liang, feel free to hit me up anytime if you've got new plans in the future." "Will do. After all, we go way back—who else would I turn to?" After exchanging a few polite remarks, Lu Liang left the brokerage office. He'd just stepped into his apartment when his phone pinged with a text alert. [Tail number 8939, Industrial and Commercial Bank of China: Credit of RMB 1,510,000.00. Available balance: RMB 1,512,201.12.] As soon as the funds hit his account, Lu Liang paid off all his online credit card bills—principal plus interest totaling RMB 494,500. Then he headed straight to the mall for a shopping spree, stopping by to replace his old Android phone with a gold iPhone 5S. He'd already planned how to spend the money before it even arrived. The cash in his personal account was his seed capital—if he ever heard the "voice of the future" again, he'd use it to make money grow. If not, it would be his retirement fund: buy a house in a third-tier city, run a small business, and retire early. The over one million yuan from the margin account was his living expenses. Lu Liang wanted to experience a different side of Shanghai life. Even though he'd worked in this city for a decade, he barely knew it. In the past, he'd only caught glimpses of its glamorous side through work, and he'd been longing to explore it ever since. A saying goes around Shanghai: the city you see when arriving by bus is a completely different world from the one you see when stepping off a first-class flight. Ten years ago, Lu Liang had arrived in Shanghai by bus. Now, he was ready to see the other side of the city. The Peace Hotel is not only an iconic high-rise on the Bund skyline but also a symbol of Shanghai. When Lu Liang got out of the taxi, he immediately felt a vibe worlds apart from the suburban Xinpu District. Whether it was guests checking in or tourists taking photos, the men all carried themselves like gentlemen, and the women looked elegant and poised. It was as if the grandeur of the hotel had polished away their rough edges. Lu Liang approached the front desk to check in. The cheapest standard room cost RMB 2,000 a night, while the most luxurious Nine Nations Suites averaged a staggering RMB 18,000 per night. An RMB 18,000 monthly salary was considered quite decent even in a first-tier city like Shanghai—but here, it barely covered one night's stay. "Sir, are you checking into one of the Nine Nations Suites?" The beautiful front desk clerk thought she'd misheard. After all, Lu Liang didn't look like a wealthy man; he'd even taken a taxi here. "Do I need a reservation?" Lu Liang genuinely hadn't researched it beforehand. He'd just heard so much about the suites that he wanted to try staying in one for a few nights. "No reservation needed, sir. We currently have vacancies for the British, German, and Japanese suites. How many guests will be staying, and for how many nights?" The clerk had excellent professional etiquette, smiling faintly without judging him by his appearance. "The British suite, please. Single occupancy, for two nights." Lu Liang handed over his ID and swiped his card to pay RMB 36,000. A middle-aged man in a sharp suit, with a neatly trimmed mustache and a distinctly British flair, approached Lu Liang with a warm smile. He placed his right hand on his left shoulder and bowed slightly in a gentlemanly gesture. "Mr. Lu, I'll be your butler for the next two days. My name is Tan Tao. Please don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything at all." Lu Liang chuckled and joked, "If I'd booked the Japanese suite, would you have assigned me a butler in a kimono?" Mr. Tan smiled back. "If that's what you prefer, Mr. Lu, we can arrange a room change for you right away." "I'm good with you." Lu Liang shook his head, then asked, "Mr. Tan, where should I put my luggage?" "I don't have any luggage." "Very well, sir. Please follow me." Lu Liang followed the butler through the hotel, gliding past door attendants who held every door open for him and elevator attendants who operated the lifts exclusively for his use. Short of being fed and bathed, he didn't have to lift a finger for anything. The Nine Nations Suites occupied the 5th, 6th, and 7th floors of the hotel—three suites per floor, all with unobstructed views of the Huangpu River. Lu Liang's room was the British Suite, Room 2 on the 7th floor. The room featured aged wooden floors, ceiling carvings adorned with rose patterns, and a color scheme and decor that embraced the aristocratic style of 20th-century Britain. Each suite had its own private living room and dining room, plus a mini bar—if Lu Liang desired, a bartender could be sent up to mix drinks for him on demand. "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Lu." Mr. Tan explained the functions of the landline phone—pressing the number 1 would connect him directly to the butler service, available 24/7. Lu Liang walked over to the window. Before he knew it, the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of sunset. The glow bathed the tourists on the Bund and the golden ox statue in the square in a soft, reddish hue. Though the Peace Hotel wasn't the tallest building around, it offered one of the best vantage points to overlook the Bund. He could clearly see the Shanghai World Financial Center and the Oriental Pearl Tower on the opposite bank. Lu Liang stood there, transfixed, until the sky darkened and the neon lights of the skyscrapers flickered to life one by one. A growl rumbled in his stomach—apparently, "beauty is a feast for the eyes" was a lie. No matter how stunning the view, it couldn't satisfy his hunger. "Off work yet? Send me your address—I'll treat you to dinner." Lu Liang picked up his phone and dialed Liu Mingxuan's number. After fifteen years of school, Liu Mingxuan was the only classmate he still kept in close touch with. He hadn't lost contact with the others entirely—he'd call them occasionally when they crossed his mind—but he rarely bothered them. After all, by middle age, everyone had their own families and responsibilities. If an old friend or classmate you hadn't heard from in years suddenly reached out, the first thought that popped into your head was always: either they need to borrow money, or they're asking for a favor. With that preconceived notion, conversations would always be guarded and cautious. Slowly but surely, the connections faded away. Half an hour later, Lu Liang waited downstairs and spotted Liu Mingxuan, with his choppy flaxen hair, walking toward him. They were the same age—both approaching thirty—but since Liu Mingxuan was single and unattached, he dressed in trendy, stylish clothes that made him look like he was in his early twenties. "Did you get plastic surgery in South Korea?" Lu Liang stared at him. Liu Mingxuan stared back, taking him in from head to toe. He looked like the same old Lu Liang, yet somehow leaner—with an indescribable youthful glow about him. In the past, no matter what mood Lu Liang was in, there'd always been a tired, weary look lingering between his brows. It was a look Liu Mingxuan had seen on the faces of many married friends—weariness from family, from work. Put nicely, it was called a sense of responsibility; put bluntly, it was the weight of invisible chains. But this time, Lu Liang exuded a sense of ease and freedom from head to toe, like he'd been reborn. "Guess losing twenty jin of weight really does make a difference." Lu Liang patted his stomach. The beer belly he used to have was gone. If he tensed up, he could even feel the distinct outline of his six-pack abs. Two months of working out had paid off—with a little bit of effort, he no longer looked like a middle-aged man at all. "Told you so. A marriage that can't meet your material needs is never going to be happy." Liu Mingxuan preened, proud of his foresight. If you don't have money, you're better off staying single forever. Getting married when you're broke is irresponsible—to yourself, to your family, and to your future kids. Lu Liang's transformation in just two months since the divorce was living proof of that. "Let's go." Lu Liang laughed it off and led Liu Mingxuan up to Suite 2 on the 7th floor. On the dining table, four dishes and one soup were already laid out, still steaming hot. "Have a bite first to fill your stomach. We can go out for drinks later." "Did you hit the jackpot or something?" Liu Mingxuan wandered around the room, finally stopping at the window to gaze out at the bustling Bund below. The Peace Hotel was famous not just as a five-star hotel, but also as an unmissable landmark on the Bund skyline. Every tourist visiting the city, every young person who'd come to Shanghai to chase their dreams, had looked up at this building from the Bund—including them. Lu Liang still remembered that ten years ago, when they'd first arrived in Shanghai, they'd joked that one day they'd definitely stay here for a few nights. But later, when they'd saved up a little money, they'd thought: why spend over two thousand yuan on one night in a hotel when you could use that money to drink and sing karaoke instead? It was much more fun that way. "I made a small fortune recently." Lu Liang picked up his phone and transferred RMB 50,000 to Liu Mingxuan. He'd borrowed that money from Liu Mingxuan when he'd bought his house, and he'd owed it for more than two years. Liu Mingxuan had never once asked for it back, but it had always weighed on Lu Liang's mind. So the first thing he'd done when he got rich was to pay him back. And besides—he needed a like-minded partner in crime to have fun with. "Looks like you really did hit the jackpot! Finally, my turn to mooch off you." Liu Mingxuan glanced at his phone, then pulled out a chair and sat down next to Lu Liang. He winked and grinned. "So, Liangzi—where are you taking me to paint the town red tonight?" "Anywhere you want." "You serious?" "Dead serious."