roccoschili Chapter 23: Dividing the Money
Chapter 23: Dividing the Money
On Tieguai Li's workbench was a tube of Vaseline and half a strip of sandpaper, next to which were his watch repair tools that hadn't been put away in the cabinet.
Cheng Xiaojin placed the canvas bag on the open ground next to the tools, unzipped it, and a black plastic bag was revealed inside.
He went to Master Qi's place first.
Master Qi lived on the third floor of an old residential building on Gulou Back Street.
There were three pairs of cloth shoes and a folding chair piled up at the entrance.
Zhou Banxian was dozing off in a folding chair, his canvas bag resting at his feet, one hand on the bag strap, not letting go even as he fell asleep.
Cheng Xiaojin patted him on the shoulder.
Zhou Banxian suddenly woke up, nearly throwing his reading glasses away.
"Oh dear, you child, do you walk without making a sound?"
"Uncle Zhou, thank you for your hard work. Is the bag alright?"
"You still don't trust me? I've been holding it like it's my own grandson the whole way here, and the taxi driver thought I was carrying an urn of ashes."
Cheng Xiaojin squatted down and checked the zipper of the canvas bag. It hadn't been touched, and the plastic bag inside still had the same knot he had tied.
Master Qi came out of the house carrying an enamel mug. He was wearing a vest and shorts, with plastic slippers on his feet. He grinned when he saw Cheng Xiaojin.
"Did it work?"
"It's done."
Cheng Xiaojin took out two bundles from his canvas bag, each bundle worth ten thousand, stacked them together and placed them in Master Qi's palm.
"Twenty thousand, for tea and drinks, please check, Third Master Qi."
Master Qi weighed it in his hand; his hand didn't tremble, but his eyebrows twitched slightly.
"No need to order, I trust your rules, Cheng Xiaojin."
Master Qi tucked the money under his vest and took a sip of tea from his enamel mug.
"You're quite clever, eight hundred thousand. I've been keeping watch for people for over twenty years, and I've never seen anyone manage to sideline Fatty Sun like this."
"You flatter me, Third Master. I couldn't have accomplished this on my own without your help in relaying the message."
Cheng Xiaojin then took out an envelope from his bag and handed it to Zhou Banxian.
"Uncle Zhou, this is your hard-earned money, 15,000 yuan, 5,000 more than we agreed on before. You were able to hold your own today, so you're worth this amount."
Zhou Banxian weighed it in his hand, raised an eyebrow, and deftly stuffed it into the inner pocket of his Zhongshan suit, without the slightest affectation.
"Then I won't stand on ceremony."
Master Qi clicked his tongue and glanced at Cheng Xiaojin.
"If you don't have anywhere to sleep tonight, don't go back to your rented room."
"What's wrong?"
"After returning to Panjiayuan tonight, Fatty Sun locked himself in his office and smashed the entire set of Zisha teaware."
"Do you know where that tea set came from? It was bought from an old workshop owner in Jingdezhen for eight thousand yuan two years ago. He kept it on the table like a treasure every day, but today he smashed it all on the ground."
Qi Sanye leaned against the door frame, holding the jar, and his words drifted on the wind, landing right in Cheng Xiaojin's ears.
"If someone can smash something they love, it means they can't swallow their pride. Be more discerning when you go out these days."
Cheng Xiaojin nodded.
"Third Master, there's one more thing I'd like to ask you."
"you say."
Just how deep is the connection behind Fatty Sun?
Master Qi stopped holding the teacup and rubbed his slippers on the threshold twice.
"Don't ask me about that, ask Master Ma. I'm just a messenger, I have no idea how deep the waters are in that line."
He paused for a moment, brought the enamel mug to his lips, and then put it down.
"But let me tell you something, Mr. Lin is no ordinary Southeast Asian businessman. His connections in Penang are so strong that even the local Malaysian antique shops wouldn't dare offend him."
Cheng Xiaojin didn't ask any more questions. He said goodbye to Master Qi and Zhou Banxian, put his canvas bag back on, and left Gulou Back Street.
Before he left, Zhou Banxian shouted something.
"Little Gold!"
"Um?"
"You'll have to deal with Fatty Sun next; you'll need to use your brain, not your fists."
Cheng Xiaojin turned to look at him.
Zhou Banxian leaned back in his folding chair, his reading glasses slipping down to the tip of his nose. He pulled out a wine flask from somewhere and took a swig.
"You can hit a guy with your fists, but you can't hit the network behind him. Winning 800,000 today is a small win, but you've offended more than just Fatty Sun; you've offended the entire chain of interests behind Fatty Sun. You haven't met those people yet, but they already know about you."
Cheng Xiaojin repeated the sentence twice, then turned and left without responding.
He went to Master Ma's house on the way and put the agreed 100,000 yuan into the hidden compartment of the rosewood bookcase. Master Ma didn't ask any questions, only telling him to stay away from Panjiayuan recently.
Tieguai Li's backstreet studio is located on the basement floor of an old warehouse in the southeast corner of Panjiayuan.
A handwritten signboard hung on the iron gate, which read "Clock repair, key duplication".
When Cheng Xiaojin pushed open the door, Tieguai Li was sitting in front of the worktable, his prosthetic leg removed and placed next to the stool leg, sanding the back cover of a pocket watch.
"You're back?"
Tieguai Li didn't even raise his head.
"He's back, and he's alright."
"Did you give the money to Master Zhou and Master Qi?"
"Everything has been given, and the 100,000 yuan with Master Ma has also been deposited."
Tieguai Li put down the sandpaper and pocket watch, stood up by leaning on the edge of the workbench, and held onto the wall with one hand.
Cheng Xiaojin placed the canvas bag on the worktable and began taking out bundles of money from the plastic bags, each bundle containing ten thousand yuan. He stacked them on the table, making twenty bundles in total.
"Old Li, you count them."
Tieguai Li stared at the twenty bundles of hundred-yuan bills, his lips moved, and he remained stunned for a good five or six seconds.
His right hand braced against the edge of the worktable, his left hand trembled, and he slowly slid down the wall, landing hard on the concrete floor.
He covered his face with his right hand, and his shoulders were shaking.
The prosthetic leg wasn't on; the empty trouser leg hung limply on the ground, the lower half of the leg drooping weakly.
He didn't cry out loud, but his shoulders swayed more and more, and the faded stitches of his old military uniform swayed with his movements.
Cheng Xiaojin squatted down beside him without saying a word, took out a cigarette case from his pocket, shook out a cigarette, and tapped it twice on the leg of the worktable.
His own Zhonghua cigarettes had already broken, and this one was just handed to him by Master Qi; it was a Hongtashan.
The basement was quiet for about two or three minutes, with only the sound of Tieguai Li's breathing and the occasional sound of cars passing by on the street outside.
Tieguai Li removed his hand from his face. "Little Jinzi."
"Um."
"I'll send the little girl 50,000 tomorrow."
"It's your money, you're in charge."
Tieguai Li hissed, rubbed his face vigorously, and pointed at the pile of money.
"Do you know what this 200,000 means to me?"
"Yes, please go ahead."
"When I was discharged from the army in 1993, I received a total of 2,600 yuan in resettlement allowance."
"Two thousand six hundred, listen to that, two thousand six hundred for a leg."
"I traveled from Gansu to Hebei, and from Hebei to Beijing. I repaired clocks for twelve years and made fake antiques for five years. The things I handled were worth millions, but the most I ever had in my pocket was no more than ten thousand yuan."
"You're giving me 200,000 today; this is the most money I've ever seen in my life."
He looked down at his right hand, the old shrapnel scar on his thumb gleaming faintly in the light.
That's enough.
Cheng Xiaojin stood up and stubbed out his cigarette on the worktable leg.
"Old Li, there's one more thing."
"you say."
"Tong Kexin's stall was vandalized."
Tieguai Li's expression changed, and the redness that had just faded from his eyes welled up again.
"Did Fatty Sun do it?"
"He led the group there himself. The pot was overturned, the stool was broken, and Kexin managed to stop it but scraped her face."
Tieguai Li was silent for a few seconds, then picked up the prosthetic leg from the ground, put it on, and fastened the connector with a click.
"What are you planning to do?"
"Nothing tonight. Let's get the money sorted out first."
Cheng Xiaojin had already started distributing money from the canvas bag, counting the bundles while explaining his arrangements to Tieguai Li.
I'll keep 100,000 here with Tieguai Li, and I'll stuff 50,000 into the condiment cabinet in the back kitchen of Tong Kexin's braised food stall later. I won't keep 100,000 on myself, and I'll find a place to hide the rest.
Don't put all your eggs in one basket.
After listening, Tieguai Li didn't say anything. He squatted down and pulled out a loose floor tile from under the worktable, revealing a small hidden compartment.
"Don't put it in the hidden compartment, put it here. Even if Fatty Sun turns this place upside down, he won't find it."
Cheng Xiaojin stuffed 100,000 yuan into the box, and Tieguai Li put the floor tiles back on, then took a hammer and filled the gaps between the tiles with some cement mortar.
After the two finished packing up, they walked out and bumped into Zhou Banxian sitting on the steps of a street lamp, holding a wine pot. He had somehow taken out a piece of paper from his pocket and was writing and drawing on it by the light of the street lamp.
Zhou Banxian looked up and saw the two of them, took a swig of wine, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"Little Jinzi, I have a question for you."
"Please speak."
Did your grandfather ever mention a family named Liu to you?
Cheng Xiaojin's steps slowed down by half a beat.
"What's wrong?"