Shi Rui and I first met at an after-party following an industry conference. I was just there minding my own business and playing the straight role with a glass of water in my hand, while she was holding the fort with a room full of guys. She not only was breathtaking—she also had a sharp intellect, a calm and a good humor which she was using to both steer and disengage from the conversations. When the party was over, she fetched me and stated, “I am going out with you, not a boy. Girls’ night.”
That’s how our friendship began.
The Family That Never Loved Her
Over the Lunar New Year’s dinner, Shi Rui and I made a pact to swap families; she came to mine, and I went to hers. With grown-up kid energy, my parents were doting over her and teasingly calling her “kid” as we were nowhere near kids. That night, fiddling under quilts, she confided, “I didn’t even think families like yours existed.”
Then she started talking about hers.
She used to live in a small coastal town where the girls were trained to marry rich, not to be ambitious. In spite of that, Shi Rui was totally different. She was the top of her class, had a vision of going to college—until her father mocked, *“You refused the rich boy for *studying? Look at the wife, she bought two apartments for having a boy!”
When a rich sea cucumber farmer was willing to offer money to take her off their hands, her family was so eager that they practically pushed her towards him. She instead took 1,000 yuan secretly from home, caught the train for Beijing, and never looked back.
Her mother’s last words to her? “Since you are so good at thieving, take better men next time.”
The Man Who Thought He Owned Her
In Beijing, Shi Rui decided to work as a receptionist for a startup. Her boss—a smooth and charming 30-something entrepreneur—was impressed by her reading of English newspapers amid calls. “You mean to learn?” he asked. A few days later, he had signed her up for the most prestigious language classes.
The catch? He was to be her boyfriend.
She agreed—not out of love but for the education he would pay for. For four years, she took in everything: business, wine, art. She was his company’s secret weapon, the one who seduced the clients and rescued deals that he had messed up.
Whenever she sought for him to commit, he chuckled. “I’m a lifelong bachelor.”
At that point, she found out the truth: that he had another girlfriend – the one that had just given him twins. His pitch? “She has my kids. You have my company. What’s the problem?”
The Escape
For her 30th birthday, Shi Rui put her back on. Her boss—now ex—smugly took the mic, gushing about her “devotion” to him and the company.
Then she took the mic from him.
“Thank you for celebrating my come-back,” she said. “I am quitting. And off we go.”
While he fumbled for words, she and I were out of the door laughing. She had already packed her things and sent her resignation email—along with a breakup note.
The Girl Who Got Away
Shi Rui walked away from everything: the man, the job, and her toxic family. The last I heard, she was on a trip somewhere, finally free.
Some people are born into existence that resemble cages. Others construct their own. But the rare few – like Shi Rui – are those who have the bravery to unlock and escape.
