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把 is not an advanced flourish, and Shanghai is not Beijing
Two things worth saying at the start of this block, one about the grammar and one about the place. On 把: learners who reach HSK 4 often treat it as an optional stylistic device, something to sprinkle on a sentence to sound advanced. It is closer to the opposite. 把 is the ordinary, unmarked way to say what you did to a specific thing, and avoiding it produces sentences that are grammatical but subtly wrong — 我放箱子在那儿 is the kind of Chinese that makes a native speaker pause even though they understand it, because Chinese does not like a place phrase after the object. The test to carry: if you are saying what happened to a particular object, and the verb needs something after it to make sense, you probably need 把. Conversely, do not force it where nothing is disposed of — 我把这本书喜欢 is not a mistake a native speaker would ever make, and neither should you. On Shanghai: it is the largest city in China by population, around 25 million in the municipality, and it is not a bigger version of Beijing. Beijing is the political capital, laid out in rings around a palace, and its self-image is imperial and official. Shanghai was a fishing and cotton town that became a treaty port in 1842, filled up with foreign concessions, banks and the trade that came with them, and its self-image is commercial, outward-facing and slightly impatient with the capital. The architecture says it plainly: the Bund is a row of 1920s banks, the French Concession is plane trees and low villas, and Pudong opposite was farmland within living memory. Practically, the differences a visitor notices in the first week are small and constant. The streets are laid out on no particular grid and the addresses are numbered in a way that rewards the metro over walking. It rains, a lot, with a proper 梅雨 season in June. The winter is not as cold as Beijing's but feels worse indoors, for the heating reason above. People speak Mandarin to you and 上海话 to each other, which is lesson 56's subject and the first thing that will make you feel you have learned the wrong language. And the food is sweeter — Shanghainese cooking uses sugar and soy in combination in a way northern cooking does not, which visitors either take to immediately or never. One small honesty about this dialogue. Alex loses his phone in it, and that is not padding: the single most common practical disaster for a foreigner in China is separation from the phone, because it holds your payment apps, your metro pass, your ride-hailing, your translation and your contacts. Carrying a little cash and writing an address down on paper are old-fashioned and occasionally save an evening.