I spent half a day with a truly rich person and found it really impossible to imitate. He drove a Toyota and wore ordinary clothes. On the road, when he needed to use the restroom, he drove directly into the most luxurious hotel on the roadside, didn't pull out the key, rushed into the lobby, used the restroom, and left. For meals, two people booked a private room for six, saying this way the front desk wouldn't nag. During the foot massage, my technician kept pushing for extra time, while his technician didn't make a sound. Later, that technician said, 'I could tell at a glance he's a rich man. Whether he adds time or not, he'll say so in advance; further recommendations are useless.'He smiled and pointed at me, saying, 'This is the boss.'The technician quickly added, 'You must be the brother who doesn't come often.'Afterwards, I reflected: I can afford those places too. But that sense of natural ease, I can't fake it. It's not about the money. It's that wherever he goes feels like his own living room, while wherever I go feels like being a guest in someone else's house. This thing can't be learned. The sense of relaxation nurtured by wealth, when a poor person forces it, only makes them look more like a nouveau riche. Some people are even constrained in their own homes.