Brother Sun wrote a sequel to the encrypted era's "The Great Gatsby," but unfortunately, he is not Gatsby, and Jing Tian is not Daisy!

I stumbled upon this article while driving,

and just as I saw the title, my phone popped up with trending news on Weibo about Jing Tian,

in that instant, I couldn't believe my eyes. Dazed, I happened to see Brother Sun write:

That night I rubbed her breasts with my hand, and she pushed me away. I lost interest in watching the traffic lights change and ran the red light directly,

then I parked the car on the side of the road, picked up my phone, opened NetEase Cloud, and listened to "Young and Beautiful," finishing the entire piece,

reading it with a heart-wrenching pain, tears streaming down my face, sobbing uncontrollably!

This was the first time reading Brother Sun's heart-wrenching short love story and dog-lover literature; I got a bit absorbed!

I never expected that just like Brother Sun, he could calculate the weight of an egg, the weight of cash, how many days stayed in the hotel, how many viewers were cleared out, how many rolls of tape were used, how many kilometers flown, how many seconds the phone was silent, how many heartbeats in a minute.

He could calculate everything, even had Claude run through all cash assets, figuring out whether the $50 million really affected him.

But the one thing he couldn't calculate was: Does she love me or not? Does she love me or my money?

Back then, he was still young and had nothing, dazzled by her beauty. He added her as a friend, but she didn’t accept;

later when he made his first billion, he wondered: To what extent would she accept? At a hundred billion, he thought about it again.

So everything that happened nineteen years later was, in a sense, like a delayed self-proving for that boy in 2007:

Look, I have money now, a private jet, I can buy bananas worth $620,000, I can empty an entire hotel floor, an entire cinema, or even an island just because of you.

Am I now qualified to be chosen by you?

At this moment, Brother Sun is like Gatsby, played by Leonardo, standing at the dock looking at the green light across, waiting foolishly!

Gatsby tried to make Daisy choose him again using mansions, parties, and wealth; Brother Sun used a Gulfstream G700, A330, five-star hotels, and repeated money transfers to try to rewrite the friend request that was never accepted nineteen years ago.

They all thought they were pursuing a woman, but in reality, they were using a woman's choice to prove the invisible self from the past.

Finally, when the words "Let me think" appeared,

the entire scene suddenly took a nosedive, crashing down, and the power dynamics of the entire article flipped abruptly.

He never refused before, not out of generosity, but out of fear. The fear that if he said "no," he would know immediately whether the other party loved him or not.

Thus, Brother Sun constantly deceived himself,

but a person who would never say "no" is like an infinite buy order that always exists in the market; as long as the buy order is there, the seller will keep raising the price until they finally find the limits of the buyer.

If a relationship must rely on constant price increases to sustain itself, then it may have already lost its value.

Brother Sun is not Gatsby, and Jing Tian is even less than one percent of Daisy!

Daisy at least hesitated between love, class, reality, and the past, still holding onto a pure background.

But the "mother" in Brother Sun's narrative seems more like a repeated test of his wealth limit and obedience limit, with nothing else.

She even said herself: I wonder if you would ever say no. Brother Sun said no. She replied: Then it won't be interesting.

This sentence is actually quite harsh.

When a person can give everything, agreeing to everything, he seems to possess everything, but in reality, he has lost the qualification to be taken seriously.

Claude does not understand love; it doesn't know whether Jing Tian loves Brother Sun or not. But it has no positions, no sunk costs, and no obsession over nineteen years. It doesn't need to maintain the narrative of "I've liked her for nineteen years, so I can't lose."

So it can tell Brother Sun without hesitation:

Don't give.

The most ironic thing is that in the end, Brother Sun spent so much money,

on those:

empty hotels that the cleaning staff cleaned every day;

movies watched only by two people, forcing twenty-six audience members to leave with money;

an A330 that only seated thirty people, which was so light it had to take extra fuel to increase weight, then offload the fuel upon arrival;

to ensure there was not a sliver of light, over a dozen assistants stuck tape repeatedly, and ultimately had to replace the whole glass.

Emptying the hotel, the cinema, the airplane, letting the whole world exit, leaving only the two of them.

But when everyone actually exited, nothing happened between them,

in the end, all that was left for Brother Sun was that nail file, the one he could buy countless things with but didn’t know which direction to file it.

Gatsby, until his death, still stood by the shore looking at that green light, believing that with just a little more effort, a little more money, he could turn back time and make Daisy choose him again.

But in front of $50 million, Brother Sun finally stopped bidding. He did think, if he gave it on that day, would she stay?

Perhaps she would.

But if a person must rely on $50 million to stay, then whether she stays or leaves is no longer important.

In Hong Kong at three in the morning, it seems like a lot happened, yet nothing happened.

The green light of Gatsby always shines across the sea.

And Brother Sun's green light, at the moment he said "Let me think," finally went out.

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