Read Novel Full Chapter 59 : The Money Is Still Growing
Chapter 59 : The Money Is Still Growing
Two pages of applications slid under the window, their corners catching on the counter.
May 23rd, morning, Window No. 3 at the Enforcement Affairs Center. The number machine clicked over to forty-one. The first page requested retrieval of the original IOU; the second requested the signature and fingerprint be examined together.
Liao Hong flipped through both pages, then tapped the word "appraisal" on the second page.
"The original's in the file—I'll approve the retrieval. The appraisal has to wait until that objection case comes back with a ruling. If you file it now, it just sits."
"Then let it sit in the file."
He clipped the two pages into a folder, then slid a separate sheet across the counter.
"Yesterday afternoon at three, someone filed this."
She looked down. A seizure application. Applicant for Enforcement: Zhou Defa. Judgment Debtor: Jiangzhou Hengtong Delivery Service Co., Ltd. The request section contained that string of numbers—the acquiring merchant ID.
"That merchant ID—"
"You froze it on April 19th." Liao Hong said. "This one from yesterday afternoon is lined up behind you. He wrote the IOU request in too."
She rested her hand on the counter and didn't move.
"How did he find out about this number?"
"The letter was written by your side. Once a case enters the file, it's no secret."
[Thud. What you give out comes back with people attached.]
"How much is frozen in that account right now?"
"Two deposits." He opened the enforcement file. "The May 5th payment of 11,800 is frozen in the unallocated funds—it can't go anywhere. From May 6th to today, another 7,200 accumulated. Total: 19,040."
"The remainder's four thousand."
"The remainder grows on its own." Liao Hong said. "391 a day, 11,800 a month, not a day off."
"Who's paying into these two deposits?"
"The fifty-some shops on Back Street. Still paying." He nudged the reply letter half an inch toward her. "Fifty-three payments a month, one for 248, another just over two hundred. The money walks into that account on its own. Nobody has to push it."
She copied the numbers into her hardbound notebook and worked through the math at the bottom: eight days left until the 31st, eight times 391 was 3,128. Add that to 19,040, and you got 22,168.
"By the 31st, it's enough," she said.
"Enough for you." Liao Hong clicked his pen cap on. "The balance on your list is 19,800."
"What is he here to take?"
"What's left over." He said, "That account has two hands reaching into it now. Who goes first isn't decided by hands—it's decided by paper."
Beneath that line of figures in her notebook, she wrote four words: One more hand.
Coming out of the west building, someone was waiting for her on the steps.
A man around forty, shirtsleeves rolled to the forearm, a canvas document bag tucked under his arm with a pen clipped to the opening.
"Lawyer Shen."
"You're—"
"Surname Qiu. Zhou Defa's representative." He pulled the pen from the bag opening, then slipped it back. "That application yesterday afternoon was mine."
He didn't step closer. He just stood at the edge of the steps.
"That merchant account—you were the one who told Zhou Defa about it." He said. "He wrote it in his book. I just wrote the words for him."
"His case is 113,000."
"Terminated enforcement last year." Lawyer Qiu said. "He's fifty-four now, had steel plates put in his back, watches a warehouse for a living. Of that 113,000, 78,000 was wages he paid out of pocket to his workers back then—Hengtong wouldn't settle with him, so he dug into his family savings to pay them."
She said nothing.
"I didn't come here to argue." He said. "There's 19,000 frozen in that account, plus the leftover on the IOU. You've got 19,800 left to collect. I've got 113,000. On a percentage basis, you'd get 2,900."
"The twenty lines on that judgment are money twenty people never received themselves."
"The paper I'm holding is wages he paid out of his own pocket." Lawyer Qiu said. "If he hadn't fronted that money, those twenty-some people would've had to do what you did back then—file papers one by one."
"What he paid out was his own money."
"That's true." He nodded. "But that truth doesn't save my client."
He shifted the document bag to his other arm.
"Judge Liao wants us in at three to do the math. Two tables against one—you should come too."
In the interview room inside, two long tables had been pushed together. Liao Hong sat in the middle; the clerk opened both files. Lawyer Qiu laid out the contents of his bag one item at a time: the terminated enforcement ruling, the judgment, and a thick stack of receipt papers, their edges worn soft.
"These are from when he paid out wages back then." He pushed the top sheet half an inch across the table. "Pressed onto his ledger, every single one."
The paper was that flimsy receipt stock, print after print, the red ink-pad long faded. She flipped through two pages. The names were written by someone else—light strokes—but the fingerprints were pressed firm.
Shen Zhixia spread out the last page of the judgment beside it. Twenty lines, each with a name and an amount.
"Two cases, one merchant account, one pot of money." Liao Hong said. "First, state your amounts."
"113,000, plus delayed-performance interest."
"19,800."
"Good." Liao Hong lined up two pens side by side. "Let's take three issues one at a time. First: priority. This account—the April date comes first. I'll look at the seizure registration."
"Second: when the money isn't enough to pay both parties, other creditors may apply to participate in the distribution. Wang Deshan is an individual, so that path is open to him."
Lawyer Qiu leaned forward half an inch.
"But right now you've got no paper against Wang Deshan," Liao Hong said.
"I'll file the application to add Wang Deshan next week," Lawyer Qiu said. "Based on those two rulings of yours."
"Writing it up is one thing. Getting it approved is another. For the next few days, you can't take anything out."
"Then I'll wait." He pulled the stack of receipts back toward himself. "Before your side's money goes out, I'll have my papers in."
"Participation in distribution must be requested before the property execution is complete," Liao Hong said. "If you time it at that point, I can't block you."
"Third." He set his pen to the paper. "At distribution, priority creditors come first. What the judgment established was unpaid labor remuneration—that category ranks ahead of ordinary monetary claims."
"The 78,000 on my side is also wages."
"Your paper says Hengtong owes Zhou Defa money." Shen Zhixia said. "He settled with those workers himself. Once their wages passed through his hands, they were no longer owed."
"Those twenty-some people ran from one steel mill to one construction site back then," Lawyer Qiu said. "In the end, it was Zhou Defa who paid from his own family's money to put them on the buses home."
"I know." She said. "But this pocket only holds 19,040. If you count both amounts as wages, this money isn't enough to be split twice."
"I'll note this point." Liao Hong squared the two pages and pressed them into the file. "Neither of you is getting anything today."
"Why?"
"Wang Yuhai's objection case—what's being reviewed is whether this account should have been frozen at all." Liao Hong clicked his pen cap on. "If he wins, the account unfreezes and the money goes back to Wang Deshan's name. The line you two are standing in gets voided together."
"And if he loses?"
"If he loses, I issue the distribution plan." Liao Hong said. "The plan says who's first, who's second, and how much. You collect per the plan."
Lawyer Qiu squeezed the twine on his document bag twice.
"What are his chances of winning?"
Liao Hong didn't answer. He raised his hand and called the next number.
[Thud. Two lines, one piece of paper. Who goes first is decided by the dates on the paper.]
Wind poured down the stairwell into the corridor. Lawyer Qiu stopped at the door.
"You were the one who told Zhou Defa about that merchant account—I never said that to him." He said. "If he asks, I'll say I found it myself."
"You don't need to cover for me."
"That man can't sleep if he thinks he owes someone a favor." Lawyer Qiu tucked the document bag back under his arm. "You gave the lead first. If he knew, he'd carry it for the rest of his life. Let him not carry you."
Six o'clock, upstairs at Zhengping Firm. He Xiufen came up with a rag and wiped down the glass board as usual.
"One more hand," Shen Zhixia said.
"Which one?"
"That old Hengtong case. The applicant sealed the same account. Lined up behind us."
He Xiufen draped the rag over the chair back and walked to the grid paper. Beside the "merchant ID" box, she added a small new box with two characters: Zhou Case.
"That thing you said back in April has come true today."
"Which thing?"
"Give a lead to someone else, and your own hands are short a piece." He Xiufen clicked her pen cap on. "A short piece is better than it going into the archives with the case file. I wasn't planning to take that one back either."
"Today he used that piece of ground to step in."
"He stepped in right." He Xiufen wrote 19,040 in the box. "What you two are fighting over isn't who's right—it's how many days the money in that pocket can keep growing."
"Grow to the 31st, it's 22,168."
"As long as it covers you." She moved her pen tip to that number. "Don't fight him over the title of who came first. Fight over when that ruling comes down—every time he wins one, your account freezes for another day."
Her phone buzzed.
"That merchant account of yours—someone's trying to join the distribution."—Lu Jibai.
"He came by this morning. Polite enough."
"Labor remuneration ranks ahead of ordinary monetary claims. The basis is that line written in the judgment."
A moment later, another message: "Don't just argue you froze it first. The title of first freeze—he has something to say about that too."
She copied both lines onto the edge of the grid paper, then drew a circle around them.
The phone rang while she was washing cups.
"Lawyer Shen, the payment application for the second installment—the one I signed—is still stuck in the process." Wen Jin said.
"At which step?"
"The last one." A pause on the other end. "The company asked to wait."
"Wait for what?"
"For the 28th."
"Say that line of yours again."
"The pen that releases payment isn't in my hand." Wen Jin said. "I said this on May 8th."
"The settlement agreement says May 31st."
"It does. If overdue by one day, you may apply to resume enforcement of the original judgment—that clause was your edit; I remember." Two seconds of silence. "Lawyer Shen, I'll say it fully: he's waiting on the 28th because he believes that on the 28th, something will come down for him."
She hung up, and the landline rang. It was the clerk from the trial division.
"The enforcement objection lawsuit: May 28th, 9:00 a.m., Third Courtroom for judgment." She gave the case name and the room number. "The ruling on the enforcement objection will be served that same afternoon."
"Understood."
In her notebook she wrote: May 28th, 9:00.
Then she counted the days: hearing the ruling on the 28th, three days left until the 31st.
Coming downstairs, Ma Jianjun's scooter was parked outside the iron railing, one foot bracing on the ground, his helmet hanging from the handlebar.
"The money?"
"Not yet."
"When?"
"I'll go hear the news on the 28th." She said. "The money in that account grows 391 a day. Before the 31st, it'll grow to 19,800 on its own—as long as that piece of paper keeps it there."
Ma Jianjun knocked his kickstand against the ground, but didn't leave.
"Let it grow." He said. "I'm not backing out today."