Hero Era

Author: Liu Jianwei / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2001-03-01
Features: The crimson maple leaves have dyed the western mountainside with a world of fragrance. Lu Chengwei climbed out of the small swimming pool, wrapped himself in a vacuum cotton robe, and sat in a beach chair. His confident and spirited eyes opened, his face, sharp-edged and almost resembling Rodin’s The Thinker, bathed in the morning glow spreading over the East. Before him lay a high-end villa area, with gothic or baroque-style buildings subtly varied, exuding an elegant and tranquil charm reminiscent of the Champs-élysées or Fontainebleau. In the distance, the graceful silhouette of the Xiangshan Hotel, a masterpiece by architect I.M. Pei, blending Chinese and Western cultures and embodying the concept of harmony between humanity and nature, was faintly visible. Further on, the majestic and opulent Summer Palace, often hailed as the crown of world gardens, was shrouded in a faint mist, obstructing his view of the Kunming Lake he could have reached. Beyond the horizon, where the sky merged silently, lay the stage Lu Chengwei planned to finally step onto as the protagonist—the city of Beijing.
"We are fated to live in such an era." This famous line from Shakespeare’s Cymbeline always left Lu Chengwei with a different taste when he reflected on it. On this early autumn morning, sitting on a beach chair by the swimming pool of a villa almost bought at an astronomical price, gazing at the capital in the distance, Lu Chengwei once again recalled the line. This time, he felt a pure, surfer-like passion, an unshakable confidence, and an absolute belief that "the great figures of history are still among us."
Over ten years ago, while studying for his MBA at Harvard Business School, Lu Chengwei had great admiration for George Soros, who was still not considered a major figure at the time. Many Americans then viewed Soros as a speculator. A few years later, Soros had risen to prominence, conquering the United States. Wall Street rumors spread that the mountain opposite President’s Mountain in Washington would be dedicated to the world’s greatest investment manager, with the surfaces already carved with statues of Warren Buffett and George Soros. This news brought Lu Chengwei comfort, proving his judgment was correct.
A few months ago, the Thai stock market collapsed, followed by the sharp decline of the stock markets in the Philippines and Malaysia, as a financial storm swept across Southeast Asia. With the lips gone, the teeth would be in danger too, and the Chinese could no longer ignore Soros, one of the storm’s architects, as the global village economy was inevitable. The most important reason for Lu Chengwei’s decision to make his official debut was the change in the domestic environment. The recently concluded 15th National Congress had formally legitimized private economy. Although the day when private property’s inviolability would be enshrined in the constitution was still far off, there was no need to hide it anymore. Capital, when large enough, couldn’t be contained in the shadows. Moreover, in Lu Chengwei’s view, the widespread crisis of state-owned enterprises and the widening economic gap between the east and the central-west had forced the central government to intervene with policies, creating unlimited opportunities. This was the time to prove his abilities to the world.
Such a performance required an audience, and the more, the better. "Victory always belongs to gold." Lu Chengwei believed that Balzac’s words, spoken through a leg of lamb, were a truth universally acknowledged. This was being proven by countless events unfolding in China. The luxurious villa he had bought in Xishan for 5.5 million yuan was a birthday gift for his father’s 85th birthday. Could this 5.5 million worth of gift change his marginal status in the family? Would the veteran revolutionary Lu Zhen Tian, upon seeing this 2.5 mu summer palace, say, "Very good. This is what we call ‘a hundred flowers in bloom’?" Lu Chengwei had no certainty. Continuing to remain hidden in the depths of the tide, silent and unseen, was clearly not the right strategy. China was a country that placed great emphasis on order. In the past, Liu Bang and Xiang Yu had sworn to be the first to break into Xianyang and become the ruler, while the second to arrive would be the subject. Liu Bang’s army reached the gates of Xianyang but hesitated to attack, not because of strength, but because he didn’t truly want to be a subject. In the era when private economy could be done but not openly discussed, many had already impatiently stepped onto the stage. Some had made headlines by buying a few old planes, while others had secured naming rights to a minor planet for immortality.
In an era when private economy could be both done and openly discussed, to remain a humble, nameless hero would be too classical, too Chinese, and could never appease the great heroes of the business age—Morgan, Carnegie, Rockefeller—that Lu Chengwei had always admired. Generations come and go, each leading the for centuries. China’s business age had arrived. It was time to take the stage without hesitation. His father, as an economic expert, should understand this way of stepping onto the stage. But giving such a birthday gift to his father, a professional revolutionary who had begun his path with betraying the bourgeoisie, might seem too abrupt. Lu Chengwei needed to make further judgment.
Two days ago, he called his sister Lu Xiaoyi, casually mentioning his intention to buy a house in Xishan and asking her and her husband Shi Tianxiong to spare some time on Saturday to take a look and give advice. P1-3