July 1997, Nanchang Railway Station
The scorching summer roasted the entire city of Nanchang into a giant steamer. Twenty-two-year-old Chen Yu stood in the railway station plaza, tightly clutching a junior college diploma that was nearly soaked with sweat. His eyes, filled with uncertainty about the future, drifted over the endless stream of people before him.This was an era described in the newspapers as being "full of hope." Nearly two decades into the Reform and Opening-up, China's economy was surging at a speed unseen in a century, with the GDP growth rate maintaining double digits for consecutive years. Construction was everywhere, jobs were everywhere, and new terms like "plunging into the sea of business" and "ten-thousand-yuan households" stimulated every soul unwilling to be ordinary. For the countless rural youths like Chen Yu, the city was a colossal magnet, pulling them to break free from the shackles of the land and seek a chance to change their destiny.However, hidden behind the opportunities was competition that was just as fierce and cruel.After three years of junior college, Chen Yu had confidently entered the job market, only to be bloodied and bruised by reality. The economy was taking off, but good jobs were still scarce, especially for a rural graduate with no connections.What he didn't know was that at this very moment, in the distant city of Bangkok, Thailand, a man named Dan Tun was flipping through "talent files" from China. Among the photos, one was particularly striking—a handsome young man with eyes as clean as a blank sheet of paper. It was Chen Yu.A slight smirk appeared on Dan Tun's lips. He flicked the photo with his fingertip. "Young, naive, from a poor family. Exactly the type we need."The gears of fate, in a place he could not see, had begun their cold, relentless turn.
"Dan Tun": Than Htun (သန်းထွန်း)