Money, Breasts, Thighs

Chapter 4: Getting in the Car, Getting the Girl, Getting into University

"Have you gathered all the information on him?"

"Yes, he doesn't actually live in the military compound. He lives in a rundown apartment complex. The neighbors say he's an orphan, only has an uncle, so there's not much information about his background."

"And who was the girl he visited today?"

"She's the daughter of the bank director who committed suicide a few days ago, but we're not sure why he went to see her."

"Oh? The director's daughter—the same director involved with the missing $50 million?"

"Yes, that's him."

"So, do you think the dollars Brooklyn was exchanging might be from the director?"

"I doubt it. If that were the case, he should have kept the cash hidden rather than make such big transactions, drawing attention. No, he doesn't have any connections; otherwise, he wouldn't be living such a humble life. Besides, people like us investigating him would be obvious to anyone with high enough status."

"You might be right."

"Yes, think about it—$50 million, and not a trace on the bank records, no sign of transfer or withdrawal. I'd bet it was transferred abroad; withdrawing that much cash would be cumbersome, probably weighing a couple of hundred pounds. As for Brooklyn, he might have been involved in some other crime, or stumbled upon something lucrative. We might as well bring him in; I'm sure he'll spill everything, including his own mother's name."

"Your plan seems sound. Proceed as you suggest. Tonight, I want to meet this young man myself. If he's really involved in some crime, he's got quite a talent."

I wasn't sure what I did to get on Brother Long's radar, but I knew I felt anxious about it. What if they'd discovered something about me? Maybe I should run? But if I ran, wouldn't they retaliate against Michelle, my 'wife' (as I'd proudly dubbed her in my mind)? It seemed I had no choice but to face them head-on. But could I really handle it?

My legs felt weak at the thought. Damn it, what was I afraid of? Didn't I bluff that big guy the other day? Brother Long is just a bigger version of him. I would bluff them all. With this resolve, I walked into a clothing store. "Seems like my clothes do have a smell. Time for a change."

"Boss, I'll take this suit, and twenty large black suits." After throwing down a wad of cash, the shopkeeper nearly knelt in reverence. Only after I had a fitting complete did they see me out like royalty.

Time for the second step—I headed to the nearby labor market. As soon as I arrived, a group surrounded me. "Want to be an extra in a film? 200 yuan a day, an extra 100 for fighting, and 500 for standout performances." In no time, I had gathered around 40 to 50 volunteers.

I picked 20 of them for a little rehearsal at a hostel. Then I got ready for my evening meeting with the city's most notorious boss.

At 8 p.m., as per the invite, six black luxury cars rolled up to the Double Dragon Clubhouse. Twenty men, clad in matching black suits, ties, white shirts, and sunglasses, stepped out. The first car's personnel opened my door smoothly. Wearing gold-rimmed glasses instead of my usual sunglasses, and with slicked-back hair, I looked every bit the movie villain.

The men at the door of the club were stunned; they couldn't recognize me as the small fry from a few days ago. After taking my invitation, they practically tripped over themselves to announce my arrival.

Within minutes, Brother Long himself came out to greet me, this legendary figure from the underworld. "Is that all? Just a big fat guy, making me waste my expressions."

"So, you're Brother Chen?" "Yes, hello Brother Long," I replied nonchalantly, bowing slightly. My glasses almost slipped off with the motion, but my act of politeness seemed to have flattered him, making him laugh heartily as he led me to a private room.

"What brings Brother Chen here today?" Brother Long inquired warmly. Like it was my choice to come! "Oh, my father asked me to bring you his regards."

"Your father is...?"

"My father, from the Qinglong g**g in the provincial capital..."

"You're with Boss Chen?" Brother Long erupted in anger upon hearing this; Boss Chen was his rival. I had no choice. Out of everyone I knew, only this notorious boss shared my surname.

"Please calm down, Brother Long. I came with peace to discuss something important." I stood up as well, but unexpectedly, he slapped me across the face. Damn them and their love for face-slapping!

The actors I brought didn't approve. They drew their prop guns, thinking it was part of the act. Little did they realize the danger of the situation. I quickly backhanded the closest guy and whispered I'd tip him extra. He was savvy enough to holster his weapon, mimicking the Japanese style "hai," and the others followed suit.

Nonetheless, the earlier scene left Brother Long and his men dumbfounded. Seeing 20 men each wielding a military g*n while they held mere knives, Brother Long regretted his actions, suspecting he was finished. But noticing I hadn't retaliated for the slap, he found a momentary relief.

"Brother Long, my father wanted to apologize to you. He admits past wrongs and hopes for your forgiveness," I improvised. Surprisingly, it worked; Brother Long softened, attributing past issues to youthful impetuousness on both sides. "And what brings you here?"

"Just to greet you in person, and to look around," I replied.

"And the dollars you're carrying...?" Brother Long asked, unable to contain his curiosity. So the underworld's information network reached even to my currency exchanges! "Ah, nothing escapes you. I'm here to exchange dollars for yuan—nothing more. You know how it is, coming here..." Realizing I was rambling, I awkwardly left it at that.

"Would it be about some big score Boss Chen pulled off?"

"Ah, you heard. Yes, even as he ages, he remains formidable. I'd appreciate it if you helped me trade these dollars for yuan."

"No issues at all. I'll have my men assist," Brother Long assured, patting my shoulder. As long as they didn't slap my face, I was fine. Happy to have smoothed things over, I promptly took my leave, wary of overstaying and risking exposure. "Brother Long, I'll visit again, and perhaps you can come to see us sometime. My father promises a grand welcome next month if you visit."

"Yes, yes."

Unbeknownst to me, my words signed Brother Long's doom. He indeed went to the provincial capital, and was gunned down by Boss Chen, who he'd underestimated.

In the car afterward, I finally relaxed. No one knew the precariousness of my situation. Damn, why's spending money so hard?

After dropping off the laborers at the hostel I booked, I returned home. It was time to consider relocating the money, perhaps by purchasing property.

The next day, I bought a high-rise apartment in the city center, fully equipped to the last detail. With the laborers' help, I moved my "assets" there. Only after locking the door did I breathe easily again.

Brother Long promised full cooperation, so I exchanged even more dollars for yuan. The black market exchangers treated me with newfound respect, having, it seemed, learned about my "background." They dealt fairly with me now, unlike before.

Back at school, my desk overflowed with letters. The girls stared at me provocatively, especially the chubby girl, sending a chill down my spine.

The letters were shameless, some requesting to be my girlfriend, others wanting to trade yuan for dollars on a 1:1 basis, and some even joking they wanted to have my baby. Was it them who were crazy, or just me? Frustrated, I decided to skip class again. Heading to the main hall, I saw several teachers posting an announcement. When they ignored me, I determined to make my presence known.

As I approached, I saw it was about automatic university admission. It detailed a guaranteed spot at the prestigious *Hua University in the capital. Absorbed, I failed to notice a teacher chastising me, "Why aren't you in class? Standing here won't get you in."

Those words stung. Who says I can't get in, huh? I'll prove them wrong!

Returning to school, I headed straight to the principal's office. He was "talking" with his secretary when I entered. With a fawning grin, I greeted the principal, "Principal, my mom wants to thank you personally for guiding my education. She wants to visit you. But unsure of your address, she sent me to ask. If you don't tell me, she threatened to beat me."

Feigning misery, I saw the principal, amused, relent. "Your mom is that fierce? Well, fine, I'll write it down. But tell her not to bring gifts; I won't accept them." He scribbled his address on paper.

"Really? You clean-handed fraud, everyone knows you only take bribes through intermediaries. What an act," I cursed mentally while outwardly thanking him. The principal probably anticipated a bribe, because had he truly been clueless, he wouldn't be a principal.

At 6 p.m., with preparations complete, I headed for the principal's house. He seemed surprised I came alone, inquiring about my mother's absence.

"Sorry, Principal. Mom thought it trivial to involve her, so she sent me instead." I feigned reverence, catching the principal off guard.

"So, what's your business, young man?" Clearly finding the situation amusing, the principal's expression shifted when I placed a stack of dollars on the table.

"I want that guaranteed university spot." His laughter dwindled, replaced by seriousness.

"Student, you know recommendation isn't my sole decision, it requ—" Before he finished, I implored, "Please, Principal, help me. I truly aspire to attend university." Simultaneously, I added a few inches to the cash pile.

"Tsk, tsk. Maybe your mom should discuss this?" The principal, eyeing the money, struggled.

"Please, Principal. My parents are outstation, working in the provincial capital. They're so busy they rarely meet, and I'm their illegitimate child. Have mercy on me." Another ten centimeters of cash rose, and I surmised the principal was reaching his limit.

Finally, I pulled out a gold bar (from a shop earlier, shocking the attendant speechless), sealing his surrender. "Come by next Wednesday for the paperwork."

"Monday, please, Principal. I'm quite busy," I insisted.

"Alright, Monday."

With this matter settled, it was out of my hands. Watching him succumb confirmed what I'd suspected: sometimes, school wasn't about merit but money.

Boys, behold—I'm going to university!