Chapter 57

Qian Wan drove, Su Liang rode shotgun, and Han Qian lay sprawled in the backseat trying to catch some sleep. Who knew how long they had been on the road—when Han Qian finally woke, the two up front were munching burgers and sipping cola, and there was now an umbrella next to him.

The car was parked at the entrance of an aging housing complex. Han Qian sat up, clutching his growling stomach, and spoke softly.

"Give me something to eat. I'm starving too."

Qian Wan, still chewing her burger, replied through a mouthful, "I didn't bring much cash—just forty yuan. Bought two burgers, two sodas, and an umbrella for you. You're resourceful, Brother Qian—go in there with that umbrella and see if you can cadge a meal from some of the uncles and aunties. One umbrella, one shot!"

Han Qian cocked his head at her, frowning. "What about you, Liang'er? Spent all your money?"

Su Liang, having already devoured his burger, shook his head sheepishly. "Left my wallet in my coat… didn't dare go back to get it."

"Damn it!" Han Qian snatched the half-finished cola from Su Liang's hand, tossed away the straw, and downed it in one breath. The fizzy liquid bloated his stomach, and he cursed, "Why did I even come out with you two? If we don't get some decent answers today, the Dragon Lady will devour us whole—and Yang Jie too, for good measure. What a stroke of bad luck!"

With that, he grabbed the umbrella and stepped out into the rain, cursing every step along the pothole-ridden concrete path that led into the complex. Su Liang opened the window and called out, "Brother Qian, leave us a bit of cash, will ya?"

"Get lost! I'm tighter than a miser's purse—don't even think about it."

Su Liang clicked his tongue, muttering, "Two burgers between us, and she couldn't even spare ten yuan for me. Qian Wan, you think there's cash stashed in this car? Qian Wan…? Qian Wan?"

His repeated calls went unanswered. He turned to see her gazing longingly at a nearby internet café, fishing a crumpled twenty yuan note from her pocket. She whispered, "Liang'er, ten for each of us—no drinks!"

"Let's go!"

Clearly, Qian Wan had already scoped out the terrain when they arrived, stashing that twenty yuan for some gaming. If Han Qian knew she had that kind of foresight, he'd have given her the umbrella and kicked her out of the car.

Meanwhile, in the complex, Han Qian trudged along, cursing every other step. "I should've just taken the forty grand and walked away—what was I thinking, trying to help the general department? Idiot!" He spat each word like a curse, knowing full well those two freeloaders wouldn't share even a bite of food.

When he finally reached a cluster of retirees playing chess beneath a battered pavilion, he paused. Two men played while six more crowded around, barking advice and insults. No trace of the gentlemanly demeanor chess was supposed to foster.

Han Qian watched in silence for a dozen moves. Then, seeing the red player about to lose a key piece, he interjected, "Hold up. Move that cannon forward, let the other chariot cross the river—don't exchange pieces yet, push a pawn instead."

"Good thinking!"

"Yes, I saw that too—Old Zhao, you're out of your depth."

"Idiot's game!"

The red player turned red-faced and hurled his pieces down. "Enough! I'm done—one man against four mouths, I've got a headache."

"Perfect. I'll take your place."

The red pieces didn't last long after that. Han Qian watched in exasperation, but the black player turned and grinned at him. "Fancy a game?"

Han Qian smiled faintly. "No thanks. Can't beat you five."

"We won't say a word, promise. Teach this old coot a lesson!"

"Alright, then."

Han Qian's itch to play returned. Before his divorce, he'd spent long days at home, bored of the textbooks Old Wen sent, passing the time playing chess online—never bothered with Go, couldn't read it.

He took up the red pieces, his moves cautious and precise. At first, the black player was dismissive, but as they each lost piece after piece, he grew serious. The onlookers fell silent too, save for one old man who chuckled, "The lad plays a fierce game—no wasted moves. So much better than Old Shi's soft style."

Old Shi? Han Qian stifled a laugh. "Old Shi" did not sound like a man to trifle with. In the end, Han Qian lost by a hair—an elephant to a general. He conceded with a wry grin, but before he could rise, Old Shi spoke up.

"One more game—take it seriously."

"Alright, no holding back this time."

Switching to black, Han Qian no longer rushed to attack. He defended and harried, wearing Old Shi down until the old man finally snapped. "Young man, don't you know to respect your elders?"

Han Qian scratched his head with a goofy grin. "You're the elder, I'm the junior—no special treatment here. The other gents would see through it anyway."

"Hmm! You've got a silver tongue," Old Shi said. "I thought I could hide it, but you saw through me. Sharp eyes on you, lad."

"Thanks. Means a lot."

The game had only reached the mid-point when Zhao patted Han Qian's shoulder and said quietly, "Young man, shouldn't you be at work? Here you are, playing chess with us coffin-dodgers—are you that idle?"

Han Qian grinned. "Actually, this is my job. Today's task is to see what kind of relocation compensation residents want. The new housing won't be ready for a few years, so the company's considering giving some rent subsidies."

"Ah, this matter? From Glory Group? Your people have been by already—promised a thousand a month for each family. Now you're backtracking?"

Han Qian's brow furrowed. "Already been here? That's news to me. My boss didn't say a word. You didn't sign anything with them, did you? Any phone numbers or bank details? Scammers are everywhere these days."

Old Shi waved dismissively. "Checkmate!" He claimed victory and looked up with a faint smile. "We're not fools, you know. The government gave each family five hundred. The new place is decent enough. A thousand a month? You think we'd believe that nonsense? I'm curious how much you'll offer."

Han Qian sighed, letting the old man win. "Business is business, not highway robbery. You're well-respected here—maybe you could ask around, see what everyone thinks? A thousand a month is out of budget."

"No need for that. I can't speak for others, but I've got two units here. Three thousand a year per unit plus the government's one thousand—that's four thousand total. That'll do for two years. But the moving expenses…"

"Fifteen hundred per household? Why not ask for two thousand—call my boss if you need to haggle."

"No need. A man shouldn't exploit his age. What use is money in the grave? We've lived here long enough—midnight flights overhead, rattling windows… just surviving is enough. Young ones have already left. Four buildings left. I want fifteen hundred, but only if Glory sends trucks. Otherwise, I'll die right here."

The old man was shrewd, aware that moving cost a fortune for elders with cluttered homes. Han Qian excused himself and stepped away to call Yan Qingqing, outlining the discussion. She was silent for a few seconds, then said, "Come back to the office—we'll discuss it there. But ask around first. See if they'll take two thousand without moving help."

Han Qian nodded. "Alright. I'll find out."

He spent half an hour chatting with the old men until their wives called them in for lunch, leaving Han Qian alone in the pavilion, feeling more than a little exasperated. He thought of Su Liang and Qian Wan, and couldn't help but curse them both under his breath.