Out of the Wu house, Chen Qing was so pleased he could almost have jumped for joy!
Mrs. Wu—what an assist!
You could tell Wu Xiaomin hadn't wanted to sell, and if he'd been the one naming the price, it might have run much higher and been far harder to bargain down.
But Mrs. Wu's little scheme to squeeze out a bargain had handed Chen Qing an enormous one instead!
He returned to his neighborhood in high spirits, and there he found a pack of kids circling around Chen Man.
"Feral kid, feral kid, born but never loved!"
"Feral kid, feral kid, digs buns out of the trash!"
"I don't dig for buns," said Chen Man—who'd apparently taken a few punches; his nose was bleeding. "I only pick up bottles, trade them for money, and buy buns to eat."
"Hahahahaha!"
The other kids all roared with laughter.
The biggest of them, about ten years old, was named Huang Can, a neighbor's child.
He grabbed Chen Man's cheek and gave it several hard twists. "See that! This little piece of trash! Hit him and he won't dodge, curse him and he won't talk back! A born punching bag! Haha! Ha!"
Chen Qing's teeth clenched. In a few strides he was there, seizing Huang Can's hand—the joints cracked.
"Ow! Ow!" Huang Can's face changed color, tears springing up at once.
"Chen Qing, have you lost your mind?! Laying hands on a child!" A woman came charging out of a nearby shop and shoved Chen Qing hard.
Chen Qing rocked, but didn't let go. He looked at the woman coldly.
Liu Yanhong. Owner of the snack stall in Riverside Community.
She'd been one of the pack that killed him.
"When he was beating my brother, you sat in your shop and didn't lift a finger. Now suddenly he's just a child?"
"Let go! I'll tear you apart!" Liu Yanhong shrieked.
Her dry, ridged nails dug hard into the back of Chen Qing's hand and ripped it open.
Blood ran down his hand.
But Chen Qing still didn't let go. If anything, his grip tightened.
Huang Can bawled!
Liu Yanhong grew frantic. "Let go! I'll tear you apart, believe it or not!!"
Then she suddenly released Chen Qing's hand and stabbed all ten fingers at his eyes.
Chen Qing swayed aside, dodging her claws.
He let go of Huang Can and smiled. "Good."
Then he turned and walked off with Chen Man.
Chen Man dragged a big sack behind him, empty bottles clunking and clattering inside.
Chen Qing crouched down, rubbed his head, heart aching. "Xiao Man, you don't have to pick up bottles anymore."
"But the money Chen Shan left is almost gone."
"Mm, but I've earned lots and lots of money." Chen Qing opened the envelope Mrs. Wu had given him, full of large red bills. "Look—see how much?"
Chen Man leaned in and studied it seriously, then shook his head. "That's too much for me to count."
"The point is, no more picking up bottles. Understand?"
Chen Man's face stayed blank, still earnest. "Okay, then."
The two of them, all alone in the world, split every last cent in two—while still working, in their own small ways, to earn every cent they could.
If it could be traded for one bun, for one eraser, it was worth picking up.
Dignity?
Only children cradled in someone's palm had the ground to stand on and make a fuss.
The two of them had only ever had one thing: knowing better.
"From now on, no matter who hits you, you tell me. Got it?"
"Got it."
"You go home first."
"Oh."
Chen Man went back.
Chen Qing walked over to the trash bins, where three homeless children were rooting through the garbage.
The Ghost Tide in the north was milder, but plenty had still died, and it had bred plenty of children scraping by like stray rats.
All three kids were filthy-faced and rank, and they eyed Chen Qing warily.
Chen Qing drew out a large red bill, handed it to one of them, and pointed at Liu Yanhong's shop. "Go make trouble at that snack stall."
The homeless kid lit up with joy!
Chen Qing drew out two more red bills, handed them to the other two children, and pointed at Huang Can, who was busy playacting something. "Go beat him up. This is yours."
All three lit up with delight.
One of them grabbed a brick and warily approached the door of "Yanhong's Snacks."
A wok of oil was bubbling, the odd spitting droplet stinging where it landed.
The homeless child hurled the brick straight into the wok—and bolted.
Clang!
Splat!
Boiling oil flew everywhere!
Liu Yanhong, frying potatoes, let out a blood-curdling scream!
"Aaah!! Aaah!!"
She shook all over from the pain, a torrent of words about people's parents and genitals spewing from her mouth as she chased out after him, shrieking.
But a middle-aged woman greasy down half her body—how was she going to catch a homeless kid slippery as a rat?
Huang Can, not knowing what had happened, watched his mother tear screaming toward the street corner, baffled.
Slap!
A heavy blow across the face left him reeling!
Huang Can staggered, and found himself facing a filthy homeless child about his own size.
"You... you..."
Huang Can clutched his cheek and instinctively backed away two steps.
He'd always been afraid of these plague-spirit kids.
Slap!
Another blow!
At the same time a second homeless child drove a fist into his face.
"So you're the one called Huang Can!"
Stars burst in Huang Can's eyes, and blood came gushing out.
Dizzy, he flailed to shove the two of them off, but something tripped him and he went down.
The two homeless children pounced, straddling him, and rained blows over his head and face.
Huang Can curled up, wailing.
Seeing a crowd of adults starting to look their way, the two children pinched his cheek and gave a vicious twist. Then, through the gaps his hands left, they landed a few hard punches on his mouth—and fled like maniacs.
Blood smeared Huang Can's nose and mouth into one red mess, and he sobbed. "Aaah!! Aaah!!"
How satisfying.
Chen Qing watched it all, cold and unmoved.
Compared to his and Xiao Man's lives, what was this?
It didn't even cover the interest!
He would guard these people well—and in the Ghost Tide, he would peel them apart, an inch at a time!
With that thought, Chen Qing turned into the bank and took out the envelope.
"Deposit."
He put the money in—10.75 million.
The counter clerk asked him to wait a moment, then came out after him. "Excuse me, sir!"
She solemnly handed over a card. "Sir, your balance has reached this bank's silver-card threshold..."
A whole string of perks followed.
Fuel discounts, half-price movie tickets, free car washes, free haircuts at designated salons, and so on.
Chen Qing was at a loss for words.
By rights, shouldn't these perks go to the poor souls with a thousand-odd yuan in savings?
He already had a silver card—what use did he have for this?
Why did all the good stuff get stuffed into the hands of the rich?
"Got it." He took the silver card offhandedly and made to leave, but the clerk blocked his path again.
This time she pitched insurance and funds—guaranteed returns of 8 percent, quite possibly up to 12.
Never mind 12 percent—he wouldn't have considered 1,200.
Chen Qing was getting impatient, and the clerk could see it. Mechanically she flipped open a brochure. "There's also safe-house construction."
By this point she no longer wanted to bother explaining. She closed the brochure and smiled politely. "Apologies for taking so much of your time, sir."
"What did you say? A safe house?" Now Chen Qing was interested.
The bank offered that service too?
The clerk brightened and gestured graciously. "This way, sir—the VIP lounge upstairs."
As the two of them headed for the second floor.
In the ground-floor lobby, three tall, striking young women were handling their own business.
The most beautiful of them, in both figure and face, stared in astonishment at Chen Qing's departing back.
Had Chen Qing seen her, he'd have recognized her in a heartbeat as the number-one name on his must-kill list!
Chenxi!
Something occurred to her. She went over to where Chen Qing had just made his deposit and picked up the empty envelope he'd left behind.
On the back, in small gold characters: Ximing Securities.
Her gaze tightened at once!
She was forever scheming to land a rich man, so of course she knew a place like a securities firm had tiers.
Ximing Securities' ordinary envelopes bore red characters.
Silver characters meant total assets of five million.
Gold characters meant fifty million!
Chen Qing was actually this rich?
She had no way of knowing the envelope had come from the Wu family, or that Chen Qing didn't even know where Ximing Securities was.
"Gold characters!" said Fu Yueyue beside her, glancing up at the second floor. "Am I seeing things? Wasn't that guy just now the one who chased after you, Chen... Chen..."
"Chen Qing."
Chenxi smiled, and it was very sweet.
She added, with emphasis, "Not 'chased.' He's still chasing me right now."