After Divorce, I Can Hear the Future

Chapter 1: All gone in one day

March 21, the spring equinox.

Spring is a season for breakups, an ideal time for cutting ties and letting go.

Lu Liang got up early to clean the house, though most of the belongings weren’t his; they belonged to Lin Wenjing.

Looking at the pile of items on the floor, he hesitated but decided to make a call and ask how she wanted to handle them. "Hey, I still have some of your stuff here. Do you want..."

Before he could finish, Lin Wenjing’s tone was as cold as if she were answering a telemarketer. “Lu Liang, we’re already divorced. Please don’t make things difficult for me. Let’s go our separate ways, alright?”

Lu Liang heard a man’s voice nearby, still groggy from sleep, asking, “Who is it?”

“Nobody, darling, go back to sleep.” She softened, sounding like a girl in love.

"Alright, got it."

Lu Liang hung up, expressionless, and called a scrap collector to clear everything out, not leaving a single item behind.

He knew who that man was—a shareholder in the beauty salon where his ex-wife worked, driving a Range Rover.

Just days after the divorce, they’d hooked up. It wasn’t hard to guess that his head had already turned green even before the divorce.

But now they were divorced; what could he do?

Getting angry would only show his own weakness, making her feel even more certain she’d made the right choice in leaving him.

The best revenge would be to live well—driving the nicest car, dating the hottest women.

After clearing out everything in the house and erasing all traces of her, Lu Liang felt a bit of relief.

At two in the afternoon, it was time for his appointment with a client, so he went to the neighborhood entrance to wait.

He hadn’t finished a single cigarette when a smiling older man stepped out of a taxi. "Xiao Lu, been waiting long?"

"Uncle Wu, I just got here myself." Lu Liang greeted him warmly, inviting him upstairs for tea, but Uncle Wu waved his hand. "Just have your things ready; I’ve seen it enough times, no need to look again."

“Shall we go ahead with the paperwork?”

“We’re not going through the Lujing agency, right?” Uncle Wu asked.

Though Lu Liang was selling his own property, he was also an employee of Lujing Realty.

If he went through Lujing for the transfer, he’d have to pay at least tens of thousands in fees.

"No need, I’ll handle it myself." Lu Liang shook his head.

After all, he was a seasoned real estate agent. If he had to go through the company to sell his own house, then these years would have been for nothing.

They went to the Housing Bureau, where Lu Liang, familiar as if he were at home, handled all the necessary transfer procedures without a hitch.

The suburban two-bedroom unit, 76 square meters, sold for 1.12 million RMB—5% below market value.

If Lu Liang hadn’t needed cash urgently, he could’ve listed it for a week or two and sold it for 1.2 million without issue.

After all, as an agent, he’d seen at least eight thousand properties, if not ten thousand, over the years.

When he’d picked that house as their marital home, it was top-notch for its type, so it would sell with no problem.

Afterward, they went to the bank to process a mortgage transfer, and after deducting all fees, he was left with 171,500 RMB.

That night, with a few sets of clothes, he moved into a single apartment, once again becoming part of the “Shanghai drifters.”

"Ten years of hard work, and it all vanished in an instant."

Looking at the cold 170,500 in his account, Lu Liang suddenly felt like crying.

He’d come to Shanghai alone with 2,000 RMB back then. After ten years of struggle, he’d built a family and a career.

Now it was all gone, as if it had dispersed like smoke. His parents had chipped in 150,000 for the house, and he’d borrowed another 50,000 from friends. ɽ𝒶𝐍Ó฿Èȿ

Ten years of toil, and now he was 25,000 in debt, like a cruel joke on his younger self.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed on the table. It was a call from Manager Wu at his company. “Lu Liang, are you coming in or not? Manager Liu said if you don’t show up tomorrow, it’ll be counted as an unexcused absence.”

"Got it."

Looking at himself in the mirror, with stubble on his face and greasy, unkempt hair, he looked like a pitiful wreck.

“Screw it, I’ll just start over.”

Lu Liang took a shower and stepped out of the bathroom.

Looking at his clothes and shoes—white shirts, black slacks, and dress shoes—there was no way to switch up his style even if he wanted to.

He thought about his ex-wife’s outfits, each costing thousands, while he was wearing cheap, off-the-rack pieces.

The more he looked at them, the more annoyed he felt. In their years together, it seemed he’d never lived for himself. In the end, it all amounted to nothing.

With a surge of determination, he threw all his clothes into a bag and tossed it into the dumpster downstairs.

He spent 688 RMB on a haircut package, which included a free facial treatment, then went to the mall to buy some new clothes and shoes.

"Not too bad. I’m not that old, right?"

In the mirror, Lu Liang looked rejuvenated.

Compared to ten years ago, he’d gained some weight, but he still had his looks, with an added hint of mature charm.

The only flaw was the money left in his account, which wasn’t enough to sustain his makeover.

“Handsome, you really don’t look old at all.” The sales assistant complimented him as she helped him pick out clothes.

"I like the sound of that. I’ll take all of these."

In no time, he was down to 169,000, but he felt unexpectedly invigorated.

"Spending money feels great!"

Back at the apartment, Lu Liang began planning how to make money. Spending might bring joy, but being broke was painful.

To avoid that pain, he’d need to keep the cash flowing.

“I should be able to pull together a decent amount.”

He took out his phone and ID and started contacting industry friends like Old Ma and Qiangzi to discuss a few deals.

Since the property transfer had just gone through, the information hadn’t been updated online yet. He raised 210,000 from three platforms.

He then borrowed 150,000 through his credit cards, bringing his available funds to 520,000.

But considering he wanted to invest in an IPO, the more capital he had to start with, the better.

Lu Liang downloaded every well-known finance app and eventually amassed a staggering 620,000 in funds.

"Haisheng, what are you busy with lately? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” Lu Liang contacted an acquaintance working as a brokerage client manager.

He kept 20,000 for daily expenses, investing the remaining 600,000. He paid a 50,000 RMB service fee to secure 5,000 entry slots to boost his chances of winning shares in the IPO.

Ever since the divorce a few days ago, a voice had been echoing in his mind.

At first, he thought it was an auditory hallucination. He even wondered if he’d had that deep of a connection with Lin Wenjing.

They’d only met a few times before getting engaged, settled on the dowry, and got married—there wasn’t any emotional foundation.

They divorced in under two years, without even a child; their feelings could be described as shallow.

But yesterday, the voice became clearer than ever.

[March 24: Baofeng Technology’s IPO. Forty-day surge, hitting a maximum price of 327 RMB per share.]

When he looked up Baofeng Technology, he found its IPO date was indeed March 24, with an offering price of 7.14 RMB per share.

Until then, he hadn’t heard anything about this stock. If it were just a hallucination, he wouldn’t have known the exact listing date.

After careful thought, Lu Liang decided to take a gamble. After all, the A-shares market was known for being unlikely to incur losses, and it was nearly impossible to lose on IPOs.

If the information was real, his life would change dramatically.

Normally, IPOs don’t lose money, which is common knowledge. Because they’re so safe, many people want in, and you’d be lucky to win a share once in ten attempts.

This demand has led to a gray market for entry slots, where one can increase their chances by purchasing multiple slots.

However, few people do this, as it’s costly, and if a stock doesn’t hit at least seven consecutive price limits, it’s almost a guaranteed loss.