March 21, Spring Equinox.
Spring is a season of goodbyes and a perfect time for decluttering.
Lu Liang got up early to clean the house, finding that very little belonged to him. Most of the items were Lin Wenjing's.
Looking at the pile of stuff on the floor, he decided to make a phone call to ask what to do with it: "Hey, I still have some of your stuff here, do you want to..."
Before he could finish, Lin Wenjing's tone turned as cold as if she was dealing with a telemarketer: "Lu Liang, we're already divorced. I hope you won't make this difficult for me. Let's just wish each other well, okay?"
Lu Liang heard a man's voice nearby, who seemed to have just woken up, asking lazily, "Who's that?"
"It's no one, dear, go back to sleep," she replied sweetly, like a girl infatuated with love.
"Okay, I understand."
Lu Liang hung up without a hint of emotion and called the scrap collector to take everything away, leaving nothing behind.
He knew who that man was; likely a shareholder from the beauty salon where his ex-wife worked, driving a Range Rover.
They had hooked up only a few days after the divorce, making it easy to guess that his head must have already turned green before they split up.
But now, what could he do? They were already divorced.
Getting angry would only reveal his own incompetence and convince her that divorcing was the right decision.
The best revenge would be to live well, drive the finest cars, and date the most beautiful women.
By getting rid of all the stuff in the house, and with no trace of that woman left, he felt a bit better.
At two in the afternoon, it was time to meet the client. He waited at the entrance of the neighborhood.
Before he could finish his cigarette, a beaming old man got out of a taxi: "Little Lu, sorry to keep you waiting."
"Uncle Wu, I've just come downstairs too," Lu Liang greeted him warmly, inviting the old man up for tea. The old man waved him off: "You've got everything ready for me, and I've seen it several times. No need to see it again."
"Shall we go straight to the procedures then?"
"We're not going through Green View, right?" the old man asked.
Although it was Lu Liang himself selling the house, he was also an employee at Green View Real Estate.
If the transaction went through Green View, he'd have to pay tens of thousands in fees.
"No need, I'll take care of it for you," Lu Liang shook his head.
As a seasoned real estate professional, if he couldn't handle selling his own house without going through the company, his years in the industry would have been a waste.
The two arrived at the Housing Bureau, where Lu Liang expertly handled all the necessary paperwork for the transfer of the property.
A two-bedroom in the suburbs, 76 square meters, sold for a total of 1.12 million, 5% below market value.
Had Lu Liang not been in urgent need of cash, listing the property for one or two weeks could easily have fetched 1.2 million.
He was a real estate agent, after all. In his years in the business, he had seen no less than eight thousand properties.
The wedding home he had picked out was top-notch among similar units and would never have trouble selling.
Later, he went to the bank to process the mortgage transfer. After deducting various fees, he had a balance of 171,500.
That evening, Lu Liang, with a few sets of clothes, moved into a bachelor pad, once again becoming part of the drifting population in Modu.
"Ten years of hard work, all for naught."
Looking at the cold 175,000 in his bank account, Lu Liang suddenly felt an urge to cry.
Years ago, he came to Modu with just 2,000 yuan in his pocket and, after ten years of struggle, had his family and career.
And now it was all gone like smoke. His parents had put forward 150,000 yuan for the wedding home, and he had borrowed 50,000 from friends.
Ten years of toil, and now 25,000 in debt—it seemed like a mockery of his past self.
Suddenly, the smartphone on the table rang. It was Manager Wu from the company: "Lu Liang, are you coming to work or not? Mr. Liu said if you don't show up tomorrow, it'll be treated as absenteeism."
"I got it."
Lu Liang looked at himself in the mirror, his face covered in stubble and grime, the spitting image of a pitiful creature.
"Fuck it, it's just starting over."
Having taken a bath, Lu Liang walked out of the bathroom.
Looking at the clothes and shoes in his bag, a uniform of white shirts, suit pants, and black leather shoes, there was no room even to change his style.
Thinking of his ex-wife's fashion and cosmetics costing thousands while he only wore clothes that cost a mere few dozen yuan.
The more he looked, the more it upset him; all the years of marriage seemed like he hadn't lived for himself, ending up with nothing in the end.
With a burst of ferocity, Lu Liang packed up all his clothes and threw them into the garbage bin downstairs.
He spent 688 yuan on a hair styling package, which came with a complimentary facial treatment, then went to the mall to buy several sets of clothes and shoes.
"I'm not actually that old, right?"
Lu Liang saw his reflection in the mirror, completely transformed.
Compared to ten years ago, although a bit heavier, his charm remained, adding a touch of mature man's allure.
The only downside was the balance in his bank card, which didn't support another transformation.
"Handsome, you weren't old to begin with," the salesgirl complimented as she helped Lu Liang with his clothes.
"I like the sound of that, I'll take all of these."
In a blink, his bank balance dwindled to 169,000 yuan, but Lu Liang felt an inexplicable sense of exhilaration.
"It feels damn good to spend money!"
Back at his apartment, Lu Liang also began to prepare ways to make money; although spending money was joyful, being penniless was painful.
To avoid that pain, he needed to keep having money to spend.
"I should be able to borrow quite a bit."
Lu Liang took out his phone and identification, started talking business with industry tycoons like Old Ma and Qiangzi.
Since the property transfer would be completed in the afternoon and online information wasn't updated promptly, he secured 210,000 yuan from three platforms.
He cashed out another 150,000 yuan from his credit cards, instantly accessing 520,000 yuan in funds.
But when considering subscribing to new stocks, it was obvious that the more initial capital, the better.
Lu Liang downloaded every well-known app, eventually raising an astounding 620,000 yuan.
"Hai Sheng, what have you been busy with lately? There's something I want to ask you about," Lu Liang contacted a securities broker client.
He kept just 20,000 yuan for daily expenses and used the remaining 600,000 yuan, paying a 50,000 yuan service fee, for 5000 subscription numbers, to increase his chances of getting new stocks.
Since his divorce a few days ago, a voice had been echoing in Lu Liang's head.
At first, he thought it was auditory hallucination, even suspecting if his feelings for Lin Wenjing were that deep.
It was just a few meetings, an agreed dowry, then marriage without any emotional foundation.
Less than two years later, they were divorced with no children, their relationship as insipid as water.
Until yesterday, the voice became clearer than ever.
[On March 24th, Baofeng Technology will be listed, 40 days of consecutive trading limit up, the highest price per share will reach 327 yuan.]
At that moment, Lu Liang looked up Baofeng Technology's information, learning that the listing date was March 24th, with an initial offering price of 7.14 yuan per share.
He had never heard of this stock before, so if it were an auditory hallucination, he couldn't have known the precise listing date.
After much consideration, Lu Liang decided to take the gamble; after all, one couldn't lose everything in the A-shares, and it's even harder to lose money with new stocks.
If it were true, it would bring about a seismic change to his life.
New stocks had a 99.99% chance of not losing money, a widely accepted belief. Due to this, the subscription was highly sought after, and getting allocated to buy a stock even once in ten attempts would be extremely lucky.
Thus, some gray-area services like subscription number allocation arose, increasing chances by increasing the number of subscriptions.
But few people usually did this, as the cost of allocation was high and without at least seven consecutive limit-ups one was almost certain to lose.