Blossoms Shanghai (繁花): A 30-Episode Journey and Beyond

Thinking about a TV drama in Shanghai in 2024 and wondering about my episode finale in 2058

Last night, I accompanied my mother, who lives in Shanghai, on a walk around the neighborhood for our joyful moments near the sunset of the Double Ninth Festival 重阳节 (which is also considered a day to honor and care for the elderly as "Elderly Day" in China).

We talked briefly about the finale of the 30-episode TV series Blossoms Shanghai (繁花), which we had been watching together since China's National Day on October 1. The most fascinating part of the show is performed in the local Shanghai dialect, Shanghainese, and I was immediately hooked on and committed to finishing it with an overwhelming appreciation of its rich portrait of Shanghai in the 1990s, which made me think deeply about the course of my own life since then.

I left Shanghai in 1990 to pursue a Ph.D. in civil engineering in the United States. My own 30+ episodes of years of traveling have settled and played out on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. It feels like looking at the self in a mirror…

Of course, it has nothing to do with me in those times.

But in my mother's eyes, the drama is what if her son stays...

But the story isn't just about reminiscing through the lens of a TV drama. Watching Blossoms Shanghai illuminated something deeper for me - the transformation between identities, and how essential this transformation is before one can truly become purpose-driven. 

In many ways, the dual identities of the main character in the episodes as Bao Zong (宝总) and A Bao (阿宝) reflect my own experience, and perhaps the broader journey many of us face as we move through different stages of life. 

I divide them into three major stages: life, livelihood, and mission. The transformation from one stage to the next requires a change of identity.

And I consider the following to be Kefei's rule.

While different identities allow us to focus on different achievements and goals, we need to know when and how to exit from one phase to fully embrace the next.

The Role of Language in the Life Stage: The Dialect Matters

Growing up in Shanghai, speaking the local dialect was everything. More than just a means of communication, Shanghainese was the foundation of identity and belonging. In the 1980s, it was a prerequisite for acceptance.

"If you couldn't speak Shanghainese, you were considered 外地人 (non-local, an outsider in your own city)", a hidden rule at the time. And in a city like Shanghai, that label could be costly to your opportunities there... (hopefully, only at that time).

To me, Shanghainese is the native language. My mother only speaks Shanghainese. 

However, I did not speak it for most of my childhood because I lived in Wujiaochang, where there was a unique community consisting of mostly non-local people. In my childhood, I was surrounded by children whose parents were influential enough without bothering to speak the local dialect. 

However, after starting my first career at Tongji University as an Assistant Lecturer of Civil Engineering, I realized that speaking Shanghainese along with Mandarin is equally important to me academically and socially. 

In particular, dating my future wife, who prefers to speak Shanghainese, accelerated my transformation. Our most meaningful exchanges took place in Shanghainese, and it became the key to understanding not only her, but also the culture and social fabric of the city in which we lived.

Beyond personal relationships, the ability to speak Shanghainese has also been crucial in my professional life. In the early days of my career teaching civil engineering at Tongji University, I quickly realized that while Mandarin was the official language (of academia), it wasn't the real language of business. Outside the classroom, Shanghainese was the language of trust, negotiation, and affiliation. Without fluency, I would never be fully accepted by my colleagues or the local contractors I consulted with.

I remember one particular instance where I had to present a proposal for a large high-rise deep foundation support system design project in Shanghai Hongqiao Development Zone to a group of local contractors. I had prepared meticulously to ensure that my presentation (in Mandarin) was technically flawless. But when I walked into the room, it was clear that my expertise alone wasn't going to win them over. They needed to know that I could speak their language, literally. As I switched to Shanghainese, I saw the atmosphere change. 

Suddenly, I wasn't just another academic; I was someone they could relate to, someone they could trust. At that moment, I realized that language was not just a tool for communication, but a survival strategy.

This common language put my immediate favorite towards that A Bao (阿宝) spoke in Shanghainese in his episodes, I am able to relate naturally...

Life in Shanghai: Navigating Identity and Survival

In Shanghai, my identity was closely tied to my ability to navigate these linguistic and social challenges. To succeed in the late 1980s, after graduating from Tongji, it wasn't enough to be competent in your field. You had to master the subtle art of belonging. Speaking Shanghainese allowed me to build relationships with colleagues and clients, making me a trusted member of the professional community. Without that fluency, I would have remained an outsider, no matter how competent I was.

But the importance of language went beyond professional survival. It shaped my identity. In Blossoms Shanghai, we see the protagonist Bao Zong (宝总) struggling with his dual identities; one as a successful businessman, the other as A Bao (阿宝), a more humble, grounded version of himself. This duality reflects the experience of many in Shanghai, myself included. There was the professional, polished version of me who navigated the business world with ease, and then there was the personal, more intimate version - the one who cherished family ties and personal relationships, all tied to the local dialect.

For me, such a struggle provided the ultimate impetus to pivot in preparation for my life transformation.

Livelihood Stage: California Dreamin’ and Professional Challenges

Fast forward to 1990. Leaving Shanghai for the U.S. wasn't just a physical move; it was a shift in identity, a step into a new phase of life where survival gave way to the need to build a livelihood. The move was significant not only because I left behind the familiarity of Shanghai, but also because it required me to reconfigure how I defined myself. 

In California, after joining SOM with my Ph.D.(D.Sc.), I was no longer bound by the social codes of Shanghai. Here, I had to build something new from the ground up, with new rules, new challenges, and a new cultural landscape to navigate.

But it wasn't an easy transition. In California, language took on a different role. Gone were the subtleties of Shanghainese and the familiar rhythms of Mandarin. In their place was English, a language I could speak, but one that carried with it a set of cultural norms and expectations that were foreign to me. I had to learn not only the words, but also the unspoken rules of American professional culture. Small talk, networking, and indirect communication all played a role in how success was defined.

Early on, I struggled to find my footing. I remember attending a professional conference in California and feeling out of place. In Shanghai, I had learned how to command a room through language, blending technical expertise with cultural fluency. But in California, I was an outsider. The small talk, the casual demeanor, it was all foreign to me. I realized that in order to succeed here, I would have to adapt once again.

Over time, California became my training ground for building a new identity. I immersed myself in the technical language of seismic isolation, database design, and cloud computing to celebrate each milestone over the decades. Each of these fields required me to learn not only the technical terminology, but also the culture surrounding it. In the process, I laid the foundation for my livelihood and my future beyond.

California taught me the importance of adaptability-not just in language, but in mindset. It wasn't just about survival anymore - it was about building something that would last.

Pursuit of Purpose: The New York City and Remix 

After years of building a career and a stable life in California, I found myself longing for something deeper. Although I had built a successful life, there was a part of me that remained unfulfilled. I wanted more than just professional achievement. I wanted to pursue something with purpose, something that aligned with my values and pushed me to grow in new ways.

New York City provided the opportunity for such a pursuit, and allowed me to be close to my extended family. The city's energy, relentless pace, and culture of ambition provided the perfect backdrop for the next phase of my life. 

In many ways, NYC has allowed me to embrace the duality of my identity. Like Bao Zong in Blossoms Shanghai, I realized that success wasn't just about accumulating wealth or professional accolades. It was about knowing when to shift identities, when to exit from one phase of life and fully embrace the next. In New York, I was free to explore new opportunities, take risks, and redefine what success meant to me.

This is where the concept of free will comes into play. 

In NYC, I realized that ultimate freedom wasn't just about changing cities. It was about being able to move between identities; between the professional, polished version of myself and the more personal, grounded version. It was about finding a balance between ambition and contentment, between the need to achieve and the desire to live with purpose.

I call myself a trailblazer in this movement that leads to new transformation with a mindset of being bold.

Connecting Blossoms Shanghai to My Personal Journey

Seeing Blossoms Shanghai in Shanghai, the same space but a different time, brought this transformation into sharp focus.

In the show, the protagonist's dual identities as Bao Zong and A Bao symbolize the tension between external success and internal fulfillment. As Bao Zong, the character is a successful businessman driven by the pursuit of wealth and status. But as A Bao, he is more grounded, more connected to his emotional and personal needs. This duality reflects the journey many of us go through in life, as we move from survival to livelihood to mission to life with purpose.

For me, the key lesson from Blossoms Shanghai is knowing when to make that shift, and when to recognize that one identity has served its purpose and it’s time to embrace another. 

In the early stages of life, like Bao Zong, we are driven by the need to succeed, to accumulate wealth, to prove ourselves. But as we move into the mission stage, like A Bao, we begin to realize that true success isn't just about external achievements. It's about finding meaning, living with purpose, and knowing when to exit.

In many ways, the show helped me see my own journey in its own neon light. It reminded me that the different stages of my life - from my early years in Shanghai, to my career-building years in California, to my purpose-driven pursuits in New York City - are all connected. Each stage has its own criteria for success, and each identity serves a purpose.

The key is knowing when to exit, when to let go of one identity to fully embrace the next.

Free Will: The Blossoming of Identity

The final stage of my journey, and perhaps the most important, is about free will. For me, it represents the ultimate freedom, which is not only the ability to navigate between different identities, but to do so without being bound by the need to prove oneself through external success. It's about embracing the fluidity of life and identity, understanding that the person, a Shanghainese who became a Californian decades ago, now a New Yorker, are all connected. Each identity had its own goals and definitions of success, but none of them were the "true" version of me on their own. Instead, they are different facets of my evolving self.

In Blossoms Shanghai, Bao Zong's success is measured by his ability to navigate Shanghai's post-reform business world in the 90s, accumulating wealth and influence. But A Bao reminds us that there is another side to this success; a side that yearns for emotional depth, for connection, for a life beyond the pursuit of material achievement. 

For me, moving from the livelihood stage to the mission stage required the same realization. In California, like Bao Zong, I was focused on building a successful career, on seeking wealth. But when I moved to New York, like A Bao, I began to see the importance of finding a deeper meaning, of pursuing a mission beyond material and status.

The most important lesson from Blossoms Shanghai, and one that resonates deeply with my own experience, is knowing when to exit. Bao Zong's story is a reminder that while the pursuit of wealth and success is necessary for survival and livelihood, it is equally important to recognize when that phase of life has served its purpose. The ability to exit, to shift into a different identity, is what allows for true growth. It's not about rejecting wealth or success, but understanding that they are not the ultimate goals. They are only steps along the way.

In my own life, I see this clearly in my transition from California to New York. After years of focusing on building my livelihood, I realized I needed to shift my focus to something deeper. I wanted to pursue a mission, to live with purpose, and let wealth do its own magic. But to do that, I had to let go of the identity that had served me so well in California. I had to exit from the pursuit of external success and embrace a new identity - one driven by a desire for meaning and fulfillment.

The Power of Transformation: From Bao Zong to A Bao, From Livelihood to Mission

The transformation from Bao Zong to A Bao in Blossoms Shanghai is not just a character arc, it's a metaphor for the journey many of us take in life. In the early stages, we are like Bao Zong, focused on building our livelihood, accumulating wealth, success, and influence. This stage is necessary; it's how we establish ourselves in the world, how we prove that we can survive and thrive in a competitive environment. But as we move forward, we begin to realize that there is more to life than material success.

This is where the shift to A Bao comes in. A Bao represents the part of us that longs for something deeper, something more meaningful. It is the side of Bao Zong that isn't satisfied with wealth and status - it wants connection, authenticity, and emotional fulfillment.

Meanwhile, the key to this transformation is timing. As I reflect on my journey, I realize that the ability to shift identities - to withdraw from one phase and embrace another - is crucial. Knowing when to exit, when to let go of an identity that no longer serves you, is what allows for true growth. In Blossoms Shanghai, Bao Zong has the ability to accumulate wealth and succeed in business, but his real growth comes when he begins to let go of this identity and embrace the more grounded, emotionally rich identity of A Bao.

For me, this transformation was essential before I could fully embrace the mission-driven phase of my life. In California, I built the capacity for success, much like Bao Zong did in Shanghai. But to find true fulfillment, I had to let go of that identity and move into a new phase of life-one focused on meaning, connection, and purpose.

A Journey Continues: From Shanghai to California to New York City

As I sit here in Shanghai and reflect on my journey through the lens of a popular drama, I realize that the path from survival to livelihood to mission is not linear-it is a journey of self-discovery, one that requires us to embrace both the external markers of success and the deeper, more personal desires for meaning and fulfillment. Watching Blossoms Shanghai helped me see this more clearly, reminding me that every identity serves a purpose, and that the key to true freedom is knowing when to move on.

And now, as I sip my mocha in this city I once called home while writing this essay, I know my journey is far from over. 

Each step brings me closer to the ultimate freedom of living a life that is entirely my own, one episode, one city, and one identity at a time.

Hopefully my next phase of 30+ episodes will come to its own finale with my extended family surrounding me, and I will definitely say that I am ready to transit to infinity with a legacy behind me.

Kefei
koffeemocha in Shanghai