Chapter 21: An Unexpected Windfall

This story is entirely fictional.

In the television station building, Little Braid was celebrating his birthday and invited everyone to the nearby restaurant for some beer. He also told Zhimin about the gathering, but Zhimin replied, “You all go ahead and have fun. I need to sell some vegetables at the market and get home. My son is waiting for me to pick him up.”

As everyone gradually left the building after work, Zhimin was still in his office, packing up his things, preparing to go home. Just as he was about to leave, Xiao Jin knocked on his office door.

“Well, this is a rare guest! What brings you here today?” Zhimin asked.

“What, am I not welcome?” Xiao Jin replied with a smile.

“Not at all! I’m just surprised, that’s all. Welcome, welcome! It’s an honor to have Officer Xiao visit! Didn’t Wu Zhengzhe come with you?” Zhimin asked politely.

“I wouldn’t come here for nothing. Wu Zhengzhe had something urgent come up today, otherwise he would have come with me. Actually, I came for two things: first, I need a little help from you, Director Chi. Second, last time you missed the get-together at Supreme Bar—we had a bit of luck at the tables, not much, just eight thousand. So we split it, four thousand each.” As Xiao Jin spoke, he tried to stuff the cash into Zhimin’s pocket.

“Forget about the winnings—I wasn’t even there. As the saying goes, no merit, no reward. Thank you for your kindness. Just tell me what help you need.” Zhimin pushed the four thousand yuan back into Xiao Jin’s hands.

After some back and forth, Xiao Jin felt a little awkward. “A friend of mine runs a business that’s doing pretty well. He needs a bit of publicity, so if you could give the Economic Department a nudge, that would help a lot.” Xiao Jin handed over a document.

Zhimin glanced at the document, filed it away in a folder, and placed it in his drawer. “Alright, I’ll have a word with them for you next week. Don’t worry. If there’s nothing else, I should be heading home.”

“I appreciate it. Next time, drinks are on me,” Xiao Jin said as he took his leave. “I’ll be going now.”

“Alright, I won’t see you out—take care,” Zhimin replied, watching Xiao Jin walk out.

After Xiao Jin left, Zhimin thought about the money Xiao Jin had tried to give him and felt an odd sense of loss, as if something was missing.

To be honest, he never carried that much cash. Whenever he saw his colleagues’ and friends’ wallets stuffed with bills and countless bank cards, he always felt a twinge of envy.

Thinking of his own tight finances, he couldn’t help but feel a little regret after turning down the money. At the station, people liked to take turns treating each other to dinner, spending several hundred yuan each month—something that had become a luxury for Zhimin.

He knew there were simply too many expenses at home.

In his pocket, he always carried a smart-looking wallet, but it never held more than five hundred yuan—the emergency cash his wife gave him.

That money, supposedly for emergencies or pocket money, he never had the heart to spend. Sometimes, when he was out with his wife and something needed to be paid for, he would always pay first, claiming it was from his pocket money, but in reality, all of it went towards family expenses. Almost every weekend, his wife, Dujuan, would check his wallet, and if it was less than five hundred, she would top it up for him.

On his way to pick up his son from school, he opened his briefcase and found the money inside—four thousand yuan. He realized Xiao Jin must have slipped it in unnoticed.

He called Xiao Jin, scolding him for a bit.

After work, he was still regretting not accepting the money. Now that it was in his hands, he felt uneasy and guilty.

He thought of the small apartment he’d lived in for nearly ten years and, feeling somewhat stifled, finally put the cash into his wallet.

The apartment was built in the 1990s, had no elevator, and was just over fifty square meters. To get inside, you had to pass a long corridor and another household. The neighbor’s kitchen vent was right above his door, so whenever he came home from work, he’d catch the scent of their cooking. Sometimes, when it was a smell he liked, he’d even peer in through their kitchen window to see what they were making. If the neighbor happened to look up and see him, he’d greet them, “Your cooking smells wonderful!” and the neighbor would politely invite him over, “Come try it, have a drink with us?” Zhimin would always laugh and decline, thanking them.

Inside his apartment, the entrance opened into a small living room, about nine square meters. On the right stood a reddish-brown solid wood sofa, and a TV cabinet holding a Konka television. In front of the sofa was a coffee table, cluttered with magazines. The inner room was a bedroom. Because the apartment was so small, the original balcony had been enclosed with aluminum windows to expand the space. A tall wardrobe divided the room, and near the balcony was a narrow bed, just over a meter wide, where Xiyu slept.

Against the wall stood a small desk where his son did his homework.

Dujuan was on the balcony gathering the laundry, grumbling as she worked, “Honestly, he never gets things right. He can’t even hang clothes properly—look at all these wrinkles.”

After work, Zhimin picked up his son Xiyu and parked the car in the courtyard. Xiyu waited for him, ready to go upstairs together.

Zhimin tugged at the car door to check it was locked, then walked over to his son and said, “Go rest upstairs for a bit, then finish your homework. Look, I bought your favorite dish today—sweet and sour ribs. I’ll make it for you later.” He waved the ribs in front of Xiyu.

As soon as Xiyu heard about sweet and sour ribs, his face lit up like a flower.

Seeing his son so happy, Zhimin took his backpack from his shoulders. “Wow, your bag is so heavy—you’re getting hunched over from carrying it. If this keeps up, you’ll have bad posture. Isn’t your dream to be a police officer, just like your Uncle Wu Zhengzhe? Someone who stands up for the people and keeps the community safe. Whether you’re in class or walking, you’ve got to mind your posture. Otherwise, you won’t look the part when you apply to be a policeman. The entrance exams are coming—you have to do your best!”

As they walked, Xiyu looked up at his father. When Zhimin finished, Xiyu smiled knowingly, suddenly raised his hand, and offered a high five.

Zhimin was caught off guard for a second, then slung the backpack over his shoulder and slapped his palm against Xiyu’s.

Father and son encouraged each other with a high five, both shouting, “Fighting!”

When they reached the hallway at home, they ran into a neighbor. “Director Chi, I have something I’d like to consult with you,” the neighbor said. Zhimin gestured for Xiyu to go inside.

Xiyu slipped inside, closed the door, and tiptoed towards Dujuan, who was still on the balcony with the laundry.

She didn’t notice him approach, so Xiyu tapped her lightly on the back. Dujuan jumped in surprise. “Why do you walk so quietly? You nearly scared me to death in broad daylight!” She patted her chest, trying to calm down. “You really startled me!”

“Hahaha, I just wanted to spook you! Were you muttering about Dad again, or was it me this time?” Xiyu teased.

“How did you get home by yourself? Didn’t your dad pick you up?” Dujuan replied, “I was just complaining about your dad—he can’t even hang the clothes right, they’re all wrinkled now.”

“Dad’s in the hallway talking to the neighbor,” Xiyu said, looking a bit tired.

Dujuan opened the door, glanced outside, greeted the neighbor, and closed the door again.

After finishing with the neighbor, Zhimin took out his keys to unlock the door but found it wouldn’t budge—the lock was jammed, double-locked from inside.

He had no choice but to knock. Dujuan heard the knocking and called out, “Don’t you have your key?”

“The key won’t turn, dear. You must have double-locked it from inside. If I could open it, I wouldn’t be knocking,” Zhimin replied patiently. “Hurry and open up, will you?”

Xiyu, who was working on his homework, put down his pen and ran over to help, but the lock was broken and wouldn’t open from inside either.

Just then, Wu Zhengzhe arrived in the hallway outside. Seeing Zhimin locked out, he laughed, “What’s going on here? Did you get into a fight and end up locked out? I’d never have guessed your wife would treat you like that, Zhimin!”

“Come on, what are you laughing at? I didn’t do anything wrong. Why would she lock me out? Honestly…” Zhimin was getting annoyed. He glanced at Wu Zhengzhe, who was holding a woven sack. “What’s in the bag? You look all mysterious.”

“What’s wrong, did you get shot at or something?” Wu Zhengzhe made a shushing gesture. “Shh—keep your voice down. It’s field frogs, Xiyu’s favorite. Not just any frogs—these are from my hometown, rich in nutrition. Xiyu’s got his entrance exams soon; this will be good for him. Last time I heard you and your wife say he loved frog, so I remembered.”

“Brother, what are we? You’re always so good to Xiyu—Dujuan and I both appreciate it. Tonight, let me show off a bit and make some great dishes. It’s been ages since we’ve had a drink together.” Zhimin paused, “But right now, we can’t get inside. What should we do?”

Zhimin peered into the neighbor’s window.

Wu Zhengzhe caught on immediately. “You’re hoping to borrow some tools from the neighbors?”

Zhimin nodded.

“No need for that. I’ve got this covered. Hold the bag and watch me show you what it means to break in!” He raised his voice, “Everyone inside—Dujuan, Xiyu—step back! I’m coming in!”

Wu Zhengzhe braced himself, shifted his weight, and with a couple of strong blows from his elbow, struck the doorframe.

One, two, three—bang! The door sprang open.

(To be continued)