Read Novel Full Chapter 126 : Four Million Two Hundred Thousand
Chapter 126 : Four Million Two Hundred Thousand
The property management building at Xincheng Garden in Chengxi had cleared out a room on the first floor for an activity space, with two dusty plastic flowerpots on the windowsill. The line stretched from the steps down to the flowerbed. Jiang Bo crouched on the steps, tearing off a piece of cardboard and writing numbers on it with a marker for the people in the front of the line.
"Numbers one through twenty go inside. Twenty-one and up, wait by the flowerbed." He wrote each number and drew a circle under it. "Anyone shoves forward one step, I'm rewriting this whole thing."
Ma Jianjun carried in four tables. The third one had a short leg, propped up with the newspaper from last time—the one he hadn't had the heart to throw away when they packed up that day, so he'd tucked it under his bike seat and brought it along.
A sheet of white paper was taped to the wall. Tang Guo had written the characters larger than last time:
December 23rd, Xincheng Garden in Chengxi, Buildings 1 through 14.
Numbers only. No apartment numbers.
A small line was added at the bottom: Anyone who doesn't sign today, come to the Zhengping Firm Friday morning.
"How many households in my section?" Jiang Bo asked.
"Forty-seven." Tang Guo flipped the roster over to show him the line count, but not the names. "You sign first. Once you're done, help me call numbers at the door."
"I sign the first slot?"
"You live in Building 1. You're not going to jump yourself ahead of anyone."
Jiang Bo paused, then went in and sat down. His hands, stained with motor oil that wouldn't wash off, gripped the pen. His name landed in its box like a mark pressed into the page.
He Xiufen sat at one end of the long table as usual, not lifting a finger, just checking ID cards. Shen Zhixia spread the schedule across her knees, verifying three things matched—row number, name, and amount—before sliding the pen over.
A man placed two ID cards on the table.
"My wife's. She's at work."
"What time does she get off?"
"Chengbei fresh produce store. Six."
He Xiufen pushed that ID card back. "After six, I'll be here waiting for your wife to sign. If she's not here, that box stays empty."
"It's just one signature."
"One signature, and it can't be yours." He Xiufen lifted her eyes. "The money goes into her card. The signature has to be her own hand. If you sign for her today and she comes asking in ten days, I won't be able to account for this."
The man took the ID back, stood outside, and smoked half a cigarette. When Jiang Bo called the next number, he said offhandedly, "Bro, come back at six, I'll write you a number." The man stubbed out his cigarette, nodded, and left.
A woman holding a baby came up to sign. She didn't leave right away, shifting the child on her shoulder.
"My loan—are they still deducting it?"
"The part the judgment assigned to the bank, the Enforcement Bureau follows the judgment. The part you borrowed from the bank yourself—whoever holds the contract, that's between you and them."
"I haven't been deducted in over two months, but the text reminders come every day."
"Keep the texts. If someone comes collecting someday, show them."
"What I want to know is when the money gets refunded."
"The refund is on the sheet in front of you." Tang Guo turned the receipt slip toward her. "Nineteen thousand two hundred. Six thousand deposit, thirteen thousand two hundred prepaid rent. Read it over, then sign."
She looked it over and signed.
By noon, thirty households had signed. Ma Jianjun stacked the stools onto his cart and said not to call him next week, he was taking a day off.
Her phone buzzed at the corner of the table. The number was from the procuratorate's prefix.
"Four million two hundred thousand. Advance return." Zhou Yu said. "The decision letter goes out today. Tomorrow morning it lands in the enforcement special account."
"The judgment took effect."
"Not waiting for the judgment." He said. "This batch isn't going through the asset recovery route. Property belonging to victims with clear ownership gets returned in advance, by law. Every one of those four million two hundred thousand has a receipt under it, and the receipt says who paid, who they paid, and how much. Ownership is clear. The only remaining dispute is one thing—whether the names match, and the names belong to your roster."
"Who signed the decision letter?"
"I did. The section stamped it." He said. "Forget the recovery route for now. That still goes by the judgment, still goes by the transfer. The two don't conflict."
"What about the portion converted to foreign exchange and moved out?"
"That part has to wait." Zhou Yu said. "Judicial assistance. A year for a response would be fast."
She hung up and turned around. He Xiufen was collecting ID cards into an iron clip, in roster order.
"Advance return."
"Back when two million one hundred thousand went out, the stated purpose was translation and certification service fees." He Xiufen snapped the clip shut. "Today, this money is coming back because of over a thousand receipts, one roster, and one schedule. The money recognizes three pieces of paper. It doesn't recognize who's asking."
[Thud. Clear-ownership property returned first. Disputed property waits.]
"Tomorrow it reaches the special account," she said.
"It's only arrived when it's in the special account." He Xiufen smoothed the white paper on the wall. "Thirty households signed today. Seventeen left in Chengxi. Friday morning, at the firm."
The next morning, a little after nine, the receipt from the Enforcement Bureau came through. One line in a text message: Deposit received, four million two hundred thousand.
Tang Guo punched numbers into a calculator on the long table. She did it once, then did it again.
"The schedule totals fifteen million." She said. "The ten million eight hundred thousand that came earlier was seventy-two percent. This four million two hundred thousand makes up exactly the remaining twenty-eight percent."
"Did you calculate that, or is it printed on the schedule?" He Xiufen asked.
"The last page has a total line. I added it twice."
"Add it once more tomorrow before we pay out."
Shen Zhixia flipped the "Separate File: Under Review" section to the last page. The line from last week was still there: Hongyi Account Group, four million two hundred thousand, freeze period through March 14 next year, one extension available. She drew a horizontal line under that entry, and below it added:
December 24th. Advance return. Four million two hundred thousand. Deposited into enforcement special account.
Then a new line: Foreign exchange remittance portion—awaiting judgment.
As always, she left one blank box at the end. He Xiufen came up from the kitchen and, after reading it, pointed only at that box. "That box is for when word comes. Don't fill it ahead of time."
[Thud. Hongyi Account Group, four million two hundred thousand deposited.]
[Thud. Housing case settlement: 1,042 households. Justice Points recorded in full.]
She copied those two lines into the hardcover notebook. When she looked up, she glanced at the schedule on the wall—the section Tang Guo had circled in blue ink last week was still there, and not a single character had been written inside the circle. Tang Guo dragged a stool over, stood on it, traced the edge of the blue circle, and added a date: 12/24.
"Can I cross out this circle with a red pen?"
"No." He Xiufen said. "Crossing it out is for other people to see. Write the date. Keep the circle. If anyone asks someday what road this money came back on, you answer by the date."
Friday morning, steam from the steamer downstairs seeped up through the floorboards. Two tables were set up by the front entrance. Thirty-two households came to the firm to sign: the seventeen Chengxi households that missed the earlier session, seven whose account numbers had been wrong and who'd gone to the bank counter to switch to Class I accounts, and eight delivery drivers who'd been on the road and missed the first two rounds.
Same rules as before. In person, signature, fingerprint, two witnesses present.
Yuan Guiying arrived first, pulling a new card from her bag and sliding it across, face up. "Class I account. I switched it at the counter last week. Kept the receipt too." Tang Guo checked the card number against the roster twice, then read it back to her. By the ninth household, an old woman pressed her fingerprint too hard, smearing red ink paste across the back of her hand. She held it out to Shen Zhixia. "This'll wash off, right?"
"It'll wash off." Shen Zhixia handed her a tissue. "Don't wipe it on your clothes."
A little after three in the afternoon, the last signature was done. Tang Guo went upstairs, red pen in her mouth, counting from the first line of the schedule to the last, drawing a tick for each line. At the end, she took the pen out.
"One hundred five lines. One thousand forty-two households." She hopped off the stool. "Not a single box empty."
[Thud. Housing. 1,042 households. One final item outstanding.]
The letter reached the noodle shop a little after four. Registered mail, with a red letterhead printed on the envelope. The sender line read: Jiangzhou Municipal Bar Association. He Xiufen signed for it and slit the envelope open with a small knife. The paper inside was uncrumpled.
Two sheets. One notice, one list.
The notice had three lines: To support legal aid work in our city, the Municipal Bar Association has established special donation funds. On the morning of December 29th, our association will visit a number of law firms to review annual legal aid case handling and deliver donation funds. Please prepare in advance your legal aid case register, case file index, and annual case-handling report.
Signed, Jiangzhou Municipal Bar Association. Dated December 25th.
Twenty-three firms on the list. The Zhengping Firm was second from the bottom. Every firm above it had a figure printed in the amount column: eighty thousand, fifty thousand, sixty thousand. The Zhengping Firm's row had a horizontal line, and after the line, a small question mark in pencil, so light it looked like the writer had hesitated.
Tang Guo turned the list around to look. "What does this question mark mean?"
"It means the number in this row gets filled in after they've seen things in person." He Xiufen said.
"Seen what?"
"The register." He Xiufen pushed the notice toward her. "I'll organize the case file index and write the annual report. Tomorrow morning. You don't touch it."
"Is the housing case file in the index?"
"It's in the last box." He Xiufen said. "One thousand forty-two households. Eleven volumes. Three cases are listed under legal aid. The rest are ones the firm took on itself. If he doesn't ask, you don't mention it."
"And if he does ask?"
"You answer about the cases." He Xiufen turned the letter around and pointed to the last line. "Look at this."
The last line, in small print: Visit led by Han Chongli.
Her finger stopped on that line. The pencil marks were faint, but she recognized those three characters—during her first week at Hengzheng, the conference room door had been open, and she'd carried a tray in twice. The second time she set the cup on the corner of the desk, and the person behind it didn't turn around, just said "Leave it there." The other time was the day Hengzheng let her go. He'd called out to her in the hallway, saying she was Shen Qian's daughter.
"You know him." He Xiufen said.
"Saw him three times. Spoke to him once."
"Once was enough. He remembers whose family you're from." He Xiufen folded the letter back into the envelope. "That phone call last month—it was someone under him, asking how many legal aid cases we'd taken this year."
She held her phone and walked to the stairwell, then dialed Lu Jibai's number.
He answered on the second ring. It was very quiet on his end, quiet like someone pausing mid-stroke while writing.
"The last sum arrived." She said. "Four million two hundred thousand. Deposited into the special account yesterday morning."
"Congratulations."
The two words came out flat, like reading a judgment. She waited half a second. Nothing followed.
"Next Tuesday morning, people from the Bar Association are coming. The letter says Chairman Han is leading the visit." She said.
Two seconds of silence on his end. She heard the sound of a pen being set on a desk.
"Say as little as possible that day."
"If he asks about the cases, I answer about the cases. How much less can I say?"
"If he asks about your father, don't answer."
She stood in the stairwell, phone pressed to her ear. Downstairs, someone pushed the door open and started to call out "Director He," then swallowed the words.
"Why." She asked.
"He won't ask about money."
"Then what will he ask?"
"People."
No more words came from the other end. She didn't hang up either, kept the phone against her ear for a few seconds, then pressed it first.
When she came back inside, He Xiufen was clearing bowls. A bowl of noodles sat untouched on the table, gone soggy. The letter was still spread out, the list on top of the notice, the little question mark after the horizontal line tilting upward.
"I made the call."
"Made it."
"What did he say?"
"He said to say as little as possible that day."
"I told you that last week already." He Xiufen stacked the bowls and wiped her hands on her apron. "The money matter's just settled, and here comes someone to claim the credit."