Chapter One: The Microphone
Before the cake at the celebration banquet had even been cut, my friend Xu Tang’s uncle snatched the microphone and announced to thirty tables of relatives, “The family’s already decided what to do with Tangtang’s study-abroad money: we’ll use it to help Xiaohao get married first.”
Xu Tang was still holding the plastic cake knife. She lowered her head and opened an app on her phone. Every stock in her brokerage account had been sold overnight. The 380,000 yuan in her bank account had been transferred at 11:07 last night to someone named Lin Guodong.
Lin Guodong was the uncle onstage, holding a microphone and grinning so broadly his face was flushed.
My name is Song Qing. I was Xu Tang’s roommate for all four years of college. Her mother, Lin Huifang, had arranged today’s banquet. The banner read, “Warmest congratulations to Xu Tang on her admission to the master’s program at the University of Edinburgh.” It had gold lettering on a red background, and I’d even helped order it online.
Xu Tang’s admission letter had arrived in March. The school deposit was due at the end of the month, and she also needed proof of funds for her visa. The money had to stay in her account for twenty-eight days.
The money in that securities account had been saved up by her father, Xu Zhenhua, one deposit at a time. He was chief engineer on an ocean-going cargo ship and came home fewer than twice a year. Every time he got paid, he sent money to his daughter’s account, saying it was for Tangtang’s education and no one was to touch it.
“Xiao Hao is getting engaged next month. The bride’s family wants 380,000 in bride price.” Lin Guodong leaned closer to the microphone. “He’s the only grandson in the Lin family. Tangtang’s a girl—putting off her studies for a year won’t matter, but your brother’s wedding can’t be delayed!”
Some people applauded. Others laughed awkwardly.
At the main table, my cousin Lin Hao kept his head down, peeling shrimp. He’d been at it for ages, but still had the shell in his hand.
Xu Tang stood up. She didn’t reach for the microphone, but turned to her mother and asked, “Did you transfer the money from my card?”
Lin Huifang gripped the tablecloth, her eyes fixed on the stage.
“Your uncle said he just needed to borrow it for a while. Xiao Hao couldn’t wait.” She lowered her voice. “I got you that card when you started high school. My number was always the one on file. The password… I told your uncle the password.”
“Who made the transfer?”
“Your uncle took my phone and did it. I only read out a few numbers.”
Xu Tang put the plastic knife back on the cake plate. Its tip drew a line through the frosting.
Lin Guodong had already come down from the stage. Holding a glass of liquor, he walked over to our table and put a hand on Xu Tang’s shoulder.
“Tangtang, your uncle knows you’ve been wronged. But think about it: you’re a girl going all that way to study. When you’re done, you’ll get married anyway, won’t you?” He patted her twice. “Your uncle knows a thing or two about money. I even bought some $DOGE a couple of years ago. Once Xiao Hao’s wedding is over, I’ll show you how to trade. I’ll make it all back for you in a year.”
Xu Tang took his hand off her shoulder.
“It’s my money. I never agreed to lend it. Transfer it back before tonight, or I’m going to the police.”
The tables around us fell silent all at once.
Lin Guodong’s smile froze. He turned to Lin Huifang. “Huifang, look at the daughter you raised. She wants to send her own uncle to prison in front of the whole family?”
Lin Huifang’s eyes reddened. She reached for Xu Tang’s sleeve. “Tangtang, don’t make a scene. We can talk at home.”
Xu Tang didn’t let her hold on to her.
Lin Guodong drained his glass, leaned close to Xu Tang, and spoke quietly. Sitting beside them, I heard every word.
“And that cold wallet of your dad’s is in your mom’s jewelry box, right? Your uncle’s been keeping it safe for you.”
Xu Tang’s face went deathly pale.
Chapter Two: The Jewelry Box
The taxi stopped outside the Xu family’s building. Xu Tang ran all the way up to the fifth floor and fumbled twice before getting the key into the lock.
The jewelry box was on top of the wardrobe in her mother’s bedroom. It was made of red sandalwood and secured with a little brass lock. The lock was intact, and the gold bangles and silver earrings were still inside. Only the black hardware wallet at the very bottom was gone, along with its velvet pouch.
“How much is in there?” I asked.
“Two $BTC and six $ETH.” Xu Tang put the box back. “My dad bought them bit by bit over the last few years. He said they were for emergencies while I’m abroad.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and messaged her dad. His ship was out in the Indian Ocean, where the satellite connection only worked for a few hours a day. After she sent the message, a little circle kept spinning beside it.
“Did you set a password for the wallet?”
“Yes, a six-digit one.” Xu Tang paused. “My birthday.”
My heart sank. Her mother knew her birthday, and so did her uncle.
But Xu Tang stood up. “Qingqing, do you still have that letter my dad wrote me last year when he came home?”
Her dad had left the letter the previous winter, just before going back to sea. Xu Tang was afraid her mother would find it at home, so when she moved into the dorm, she slipped it into my suitcase. Later, when I graduated and rented a place, the letter ended up tucked inside a dictionary on my bookshelf.
We took a taxi back to my rental again. The envelope was still there. Inside were two sheets of paper: one covered in her dad’s crooked handwriting, the other with twenty-four English words.
The last few lines of the letter read: “If you lose the wallet, don’t worry. You can get the coins back with this piece of paper. Also, don’t throw away that old laptop at home. The password is your nickname plus your birthday. Everything about your uncle is on it.”
Xu Tang glanced at that line without stopping, then spread the page of words out on the table.
She installed a wallet app on her phone and chose the recovery option, entering the words one by one. I read them from the paper while she typed. When she got to the nineteenth word, her hand shook and she mistyped a letter. She deleted it and started again.
When all twenty-four words were entered, the balance appeared on the screen: two bitcoin and six ethereum, not a cent missing.
Xu Tang created a new wallet, copied the recovery phrase into the notepad I handed her, and transferred all the coins to it.
“The wallet he has is an empty shell now.” She watched the confirmations tick up one by one on the blockchain. “Even if he figures out the password, there’s nothing in it.”
When the confirmations were complete, Xu Tang tore off the page, folded it twice, and slipped it inside her phone case.
The phone rang as soon as she put it down. It was Lin Guodong.
Xu Tang put him on speaker and casually tapped the record button.
“Tangtang, don’t try to be clever with your uncle.” It was noisy on Lin Guodong’s end, as if he were in a hotel kitchen. “If you go to the police station, your mom will lose face. I have your dad’s wallet. Just be good and tell me the password. As for the 380,000, your uncle will write you an IOU.”
“You can keep the wallet,” Xu Tang said. “Transfer the 380,000 back by noon tomorrow.”
“Why are you being so unreasonable?” Lin Guodong lowered his voice. “I’m telling you, that money was never yours. Your dad owed it to me.”
The call ended.
Xu Tang held her phone, tapping the edge of the screen again and again with her knuckles.
Chapter Three: The IOU
Early the next morning, Xu Tang took me to the bank.
The customer manager at the counter was named Zhou. After hearing what had happened, she first had Xu Tang reset her transaction password, then changed the mobile number on file to Xu Tang’s own. The printed statement was crystal clear: at 11:07 p.m. the night before, 380,000 yuan had been transferred out through mobile banking to Lin Guodong. The note field was blank.
“The transfer was made using your card number, password, and SMS verification code.” Manager Zhou pushed the statement toward her. “The text message was sent to the number on file. If you didn’t make the transfer yourself, I recommend reporting it to the police as soon as possible.”
Xu Tang asked, “What about the securities account?”
“Money in the securities account can only be transferred back to a bank card in your name. You need the account password to sell or transfer funds.”
Xu Tang said nothing. She had told her mother the securities account password in her final year of high school, afraid she might forget it.
Noon came and went. Lin Guodong didn’t transfer a single cent. He only sent a voice message to the family group chat, saying, “Some kids study for a few years and forget where they came from.”
At one in the afternoon, we went to the South District police station.
The officer who received us was surnamed Meng, in his forties. After hearing Xu Tang’s account and listening to the recording of the phone call, he wrote a few lines in his notebook.
“The card is yours, and the money is yours. If someone transferred it without your consent, we can take a report.” Officer Meng looked up. “But your mother was involved, so we’ll need to speak separately with her and your uncle to understand what happened.”
Before he could finish, two people came in through the door.
Lin Guodong walked in front. He had changed into a clean shirt and was clutching a plastic document folder. Lin Huifang followed behind him, her eyes swollen. As soon as she came in, she looked at Xu Tang, then lowered her head.
“Officer, I’m here to explain.” Lin Guodong put the folder on the table. “This wasn’t theft. It was repayment of a debt.”
He pulled a yellowed piece of paper out of the folder.
It was an IOU, dated September 2017. It read: “I hereby borrow 400,000 yuan from Lin Guodong for investment, to be repaid within two years. Borrower: Xu Zhenhua.” A red thumbprint was stamped below it.
“The girl’s father was trading crypto back then and borrowed 400,000 from me. He hasn’t paid back a cent to this day.” Lin Guodong pointed at the paper. “Huifang is the child’s mother. It’s only right for her to repay her husband’s debt. The money in Tangtang’s account was her dad’s to begin with. A child repaying her father’s debt—I was only taking back what was mine.”
Officer Meng looked at Lin Huifang. “Did you know about this IOU?”
Lin Huifang’s lips moved. “I knew. That year… Old Xu really did borrow money.”
Xu Tang turned to look at her mother, but Lin Huifang wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Officer Meng photographed the IOU and kept a photocopy. His tone was much more cautious now.
“If there really was a debt between the two parties, then this involves a financial dispute.” He closed his notebook. “Whether your father owed money and whether the money in your account can be used to pay that debt are two separate matters, but we need to verify the facts first. You should try to reach an agreement. If that doesn’t work, you can pursue a civil lawsuit. We’ll continue looking into it as well.”
Lin Guodong put the IOU back in the folder. Just then, the phone in his pocket rang. He took it out and glanced at the screen. It was an unfamiliar number, with a text preview underneath. I only caught the words “additional funds.” He rejected the call and smiled at Xu Tang.
After we left the police station, Xu Tang stood on the steps and messaged her dad again: “Dad, did you borrow 400,000 from Uncle in 2017?”
The little circle beside the message kept spinning all the way there and never finished.
Chapter Four: Frozen
Xu Tang’s original plan was to have her dad transfer 150,000 from his crew salary card. Combined with the remaining 30,000 in her securities account and her own savings, that would be enough for proof of funds.
On Tuesday morning, her dad finally got online and sent a message: “I’ll transfer it to you right now.”
Ten minutes later, another message came: “I can’t transfer it. The bank says the court has frozen the card.”
Xu Tang called the bank to ask. They only told her it was a judicial freeze and that she’d have to contact the court for details.
That afternoon, I went with her to the district court. After searching for a long time, the clerk at the case-filing window told her: Lin Guodong was the applicant, Xu Zhenhua the respondent, and the case was a pre-litigation property preservation order freezing 400,000 yuan. The order had been issued on Monday afternoon.
“To obtain pre-litigation asset preservation, the applicant has to provide security,” the clerk said. “He provided it, and the paperwork met the requirements, so the funds were frozen. The respondent can object and apply for reconsideration, or provide security and apply to have the freeze lifted.”
Xu Tang asked, “How long does reconsideration take?”
“It depends. If things move quickly, about ten days.”
If she waited ten days, there’d be only a few days left before the deposit deadline at the end of the month. And there was no way to meet the twenty-eight-day requirement for proof of funds in time.
As we left the court, Xu Tang’s phone kept vibrating. In the family group chat, Lin Guodong had posted a photo of the IOU, along with a long message: “I’ve put up with this for seven years for my sister’s sake. Now her daughter’s going abroad, and she can’t even say thank you—she wants to report me to the police instead.”
Some people replied, “Calm down,” others said, “She’s still young.” Her second aunt directly tagged Xu Tang: “Tangtang, it’s a fact your dad owed money. Apologize to your uncle and we can put this behind us.”
Xu Tang scrolled down message by message. At the very bottom, her mother had written: “Tangtang, listen to me. Let’s not take this to court.”
She turned her phone face down on her lap and sat motionless on the steps outside the courthouse.
I sat down beside her. The sun had heated the steps until they were scorching.
“Qingqing, do you think my dad really borrowed money from him?”
“Can you recognize the thumbprint on the IOU?”
“I can’t.” Xu Tang shook her head. “I just remember my dad getting several phone calls over those two years. Every time, he’d go out to the balcony to take them, and when he came back, he looked upset. My mom said it was something to do with the ship.”
She lowered her head and stared at the tips of her shoes. After a while, her phone vibrated again.
It was her dad. The satellite signal kept cutting in and out, and the message appeared one character at a time.
“I borrowed it, but paid it back.”
“Your uncle said he’d lost the IOU and wrote a receipt.”
“The receipt photo is on the laptop. Look”
The message stopped there. Nothing else came.
Xu Tang stared at the unfinished word “Look” and sprang to her feet.
“The old laptop,” she said. “The one my dad mentioned in his letter.”
Her dad had used that laptop a few years ago. Later, he got a new computer and put the old one in the storage room at home. Xu Tang called her mother and asked if it was still there.
There was a brief silence on the other end.
“Yes, it’s still in the storage room.” Lin Huifang sounded a little uneasy. “Why do you want it?”
Xu Tang didn’t answer. She hung up and went straight out to hail a cab.
Two intersections into the ride, she suddenly turned to me. “That pause just now—my mom was deciding whether to tell my uncle.”
Chapter Five: The Old Laptop
The Xu family’s front door was unlocked, and the light in the storage room was on.
Lin Guodong was crouched among a pile of cardboard boxes, holding a gray old laptop and stuffing it into a supermarket bag. Lin Huifang stood in the storage room doorway. When she saw Xu Tang, she grabbed the doorframe.
“Uncle, that belongs to my dad.” Xu Tang blocked the doorway.
“Your dad owes me 400,000. Can’t I take a beat-up old computer as interest?” Lin Guodong stood up and tucked the shopping bag under his arm. “Move.”
Xu Tang didn’t move.
I stood behind her with my phone raised. The red recording dot kept blinking on the screen. On the way over, Xu Tang had said just one thing to me: “Whatever happens, don’t stop recording.”
Lin Guodong saw my phone, his face darkened, and he reached out to shove Xu Tang. She was knocked into the shoe cabinet, but she held tight to the handles of the shopping bag. The plastic stretched out of shape.
“Brother!” Lin Huifang shouted. “Don’t touch her!”
Lin Guodong ignored her and tried to pry Xu Tang’s fingers loose with his other hand.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Lin Hao came upstairs, car keys in hand. He took one look at the scene inside and froze in the doorway.
“Dad, you asked me to drive over just to carry this?”
“Quit talking and help me pull her off!”
Lin Hao didn’t move. He looked at Xu Tang, then at the torn plastic bag. His voice tightened. “Dad, didn’t you say the money for the bride price was your own savings? How did it become Tangtang’s money?”
Lin Guodong turned and cursed. His grip loosened, and Xu Tang seized the chance to pull the laptop out of the bag. She hugged it to her chest and backed into the middle of the living room.
“I’m counting to three.” Lin Guodong was breathing hard. “There’s nothing on that piece of junk you can open anyway.”
Xu Tang didn’t wait for him to count. She crouched, set the laptop on the coffee table, and plugged in the charger from the TV cabinet. The screen lit up, displaying a password prompt.
She typed “tangtang,” then entered her birthday.
The desktop appeared.
Lin Guodong took a step forward. Lin Hao reached out to stop him. It wasn’t a firm grip, but Lin Guodong halted.
In a folder called “Home,” Xu Tang found several photos. The first showed a handwritten receipt, photographed at a slight angle. The signature at the bottom slanted to the right, just like Lin Guodong’s signature in the sign-in book at the graduation banquet.
“Received from Xu Zhenhua a repayment of 420,000 yuan in full. The principal and interest on the 400,000 yuan borrowed in September 2017 have been completely paid. The original IOU has been lost; if it is found later, it shall be void. Recipient: Lin Guodong. June 2, 2019.”
The next four photos were screenshots of bank transfers from 2019. The recipient was Lin Guodong in each case, and the notes said “Repayment of Guodong’s loan.” Together, they totaled exactly 420,000 yuan.
Xu Tang turned the screen toward her uncle.
“The original IOU has been lost; if it is found later, it shall be void.” She read it word by word. “Uncle, the one you found is void.”
Lin Guodong’s face went from red to ashen. He opened his mouth, then turned and grabbed the car keys from the coffee table—the ones Lin Hao had just put down.
“Xiao Hao, let’s go!”
Lin Hao didn’t follow. The door slammed, shaking the whole building.
Xu Tang emailed the five photos to herself, sent them to my phone, and sent them to her dad’s satellite email. Only after she was done did she look up at her mother.
Lin Huifang stood in the storage room doorway, still holding the doorframe.
Chapter Six: Taking the Blame
“Had you seen that receipt before?” Xu Tang asked her mother.
Lin Huifang shook her head. “Your dad never told me when he paid it back. When your uncle brought the IOU, I thought… I thought your dad really still owed him.”
“So you gave him my password.”
“He said Xiao Hao’s wedding would fall through and the bride’s family was waiting for the money.” Lin Huifang’s voice grew quieter and quieter. “I thought I’d lend it to him for now and settle accounts when your dad came back.”
Xu Tang didn’t respond. She closed the laptop, put it in her backpack, and pulled the zipper all the way shut.
The next morning, Xu Tang gave the receipt photos and transfer screenshots to Officer Meng. He examined them on his computer twice, then called the bank that had issued the transfer records to verify them.
That afternoon, he called Xu Tang. “There’s been a change. The debt your uncle mentioned has already been paid off, so he can’t use the IOU as a reason for taking the money. We’ve accepted the case, and we’ll summon him to give a statement.”
Xu Tang thanked him, then asked what to do about the court case.
“He applied for the pre-litigation preservation order. If he applied improperly and the other party suffered losses as a result, you can seek compensation from him,” Officer Meng said. “Give these documents to the court and your father as well.”
That evening, Lin Guodong filed an application with the court to withdraw the preservation order. Three days later, her dad’s salary card was unfrozen.
The day the freeze was lifted, her dad’s ship docked. For once, he had a signal for the whole night. He video-called her. His face was dark red from the sun, and the engine room rumbled behind him.
“I practically had to force your uncle to write that receipt.” Her dad said, “He told me he couldn’t find the IOU. I didn’t trust him, so I insisted he write one. He did it reluctantly, so I took a photo and saved it on the computer.”
“Dad, why didn’t you tell Mom at the time?”
“Your mom’s the sort of person who softens the minute your uncle starts crying.” Her dad rubbed his eyes. “I was afraid that if she knew, he’d come asking her for another loan.”
Xu Tang didn’t answer. She only said, “Dad, come home soon.”
The day the 150,000 arrived, Xu Tang sat in my rental and worked out the numbers. Deposit, tuition, living expenses, proof of funds for the visa—she listed them one by one on paper, then circled the line for 380,000.
“Even with the 150,000 from Dad and the 30,000 left in the securities account, I’m still nowhere near enough.” She bit the end of her pen. “I have to get the 380,000 back.”
Her phone vibrated on the table. It was Officer Meng.
“Xu Tang, your mother came to the station just now.” Officer Meng sounded a little troubled. “She said she transferred the money on her own, and that your uncle merely received it. She also said this is a family matter and asked you to withdraw your complaint.”
Xu Tang stood up with the phone in her hand. Her chair scraped loudly across the floor.
“Is she still there?”
“She just left.” Officer Meng paused. “As your mother, she had your card and password, and she says she made the transfer herself. We’ll have to reassess the nature of the case. You should think it through, too.”
After hanging up, Xu Tang immediately called her mother. It rang seven or eight times before she answered.
“Mom, who told you to go?”
“Tangtang, if your uncle gets arrested, how will your grandma, at her age, handle it?” Lin Huifang was crying so hard she could barely speak. “I transferred the money. If you hate someone, hate me. Please withdraw the complaint. I’m begging you.”
“Is Uncle next to you?”
There was a pause on the other end. Then Lin Guodong’s voice came through, not loud, as if he were standing some distance away. “Tell her to withdraw it. I’ll pay the money back slowly.”
Xu Tang hung up and tossed her phone onto the bed. She stood with her back to me for a while, her shoulders rising and falling twice. When she turned around, her eyes were red, but her voice was steady.
“Qingqing, if that 380,000 really went to pay for Xiao Hao’s wedding, I’d accept half the loss.” She said, “But I need to find out where the money actually went first.”
Chapter Seven: Eighty-Eight Thousand
Xu Tang found Ge Lei in the family group chat, added her as a friend, and sent just one message: “Cousin-in-law, this is Xu Tang. There’s something about the bride price I’d like to ask you in person. Ten minutes is all I need.”
Ge Lei replied quickly and arranged to meet at a coffee shop downstairs from her workplace.
She was younger than I’d expected. She wore a bank uniform and turned her name badge facedown as soon as she sat down.
“I saw what your uncle said in the group chat,” she began. “Our family never asked for a bride price of 380,000.”
Xu Tang didn’t rush to answer. She pushed her phone over. On the screen was a video from the graduation banquet, showing Lin Guodong saying into the microphone, “The bride’s family wants a bride price of 380,000.”
Ge Lei watched it, and her face grew very grim.
“My mom only mentioned 88,000, as a lucky number, to be given on the day of the engagement.” She pushed the phone back. “As of today, our family hasn’t received a single cent. Xiao Hao told me his dad was short on cash and would have to scrape together even the 88,000.”
“Then what happened to the 380,000?”
Ge Lei shook her head and picked up her phone. “Lin Hao, come over here now.”
Lin Hao arrived quickly, his forehead covered in sweat. He sat down beside Ge Lei, unable to look at Xu Tang. First, he unlocked his phone and placed it in the middle of the table.
“Tangtang, I was going to tell you after the engagement.” His throat was dry. “My dad’s been trading stocks on margin for the past two years, without telling my mom. He doesn’t know how to use a phone, so he does it all on the desktop computer at home.”
There were several photos on his phone, taken of a computer screen. The images were a little washed out by glare.
The first showed an account page on a margin-trading platform. It said, “Risk ratio has fallen below the warning threshold. Add margin today or your positions will be forcibly liquidated.” The timestamp was the afternoon before the graduation banquet.
The second showed the deposit record: at 11:21 that night, 380,000 yuan had been transferred into the margin-trading account.
Xu Tang stared at the timestamp. At 11:07, 380,000 had gone from her card to Lin Guodong. Fourteen minutes later, that same amount had gone into the margin account.
“When did you take these photos?” I asked.
“The morning after the graduation banquet.” Lin Hao kept his head down. “I went home to get something. His computer was still on, and I saw this. It bothered me, so I took a picture. The third one was taken on Monday.”
In the third photo, the account had been forcibly liquidated, leaving just over 90,000 in assets.
“Just like that, 290,000 was gone.” Lin Hao took his phone back, rubbing his fingers along its edge. “Tangtang, I’m sorry. When Dad told me to drive over and get that laptop, I really thought your dad owed him money.”
Xu Tang looked at him.
“Cousin, are you willing to show these photos to the police?”
Lin Hao didn’t answer. Ge Lei kicked him under the table. He looked up, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Yes. But there’s something I need to tell you first.” His voice dropped even lower. “The day before yesterday, my dad asked me to go with him to the property transfer office. He wanted to transfer the apartment in his name into mine. I said I had to discuss it with Ge Lei, so I didn’t sign. He called again this morning to pressure me.”
Xu Tang rested her hand on the table. After a few seconds, she let it go.
“He wants to move everything he could use to pay me back before I withdraw my complaint.”
After leaving the coffee shop, Xu Tang didn’t go back to my place. She took a cab straight to her mother’s home.
Lin Huifang was sitting alone in the living room with the television on low. Xu Tang walked over and laid the three photos Lin Hao had taken in front of her mother, one by one.
“Mom, the money you took the blame for wasn’t used for Xiao Hao’s wedding.” She said, “290,000 went to cover the hole in his margin-trading account.”
Chapter Eight: Lunar Birthday
Lin Huifang turned the three photos over and over several times. Her finger stopped on the words “forcibly liquidated.”
“He told me that if Xiao Hao didn’t get engaged next month, the Ge family would break off the match.” Her voice was hoarse. “He said he was his nephew’s uncle and would never cheat his niece.”
Xu Tang stood beside the coffee table without sitting down.
“Was it him who told you to take the blame at the police station, too?”
Lin Huifang didn’t answer. She picked up her phone, opened a WeChat chat, and handed it to Xu Tang.
It was a message Lin Guodong had sent two days earlier.
“Sis, just tell the police you transferred the money yourself. A mother using her daughter’s money is a family matter. The police won’t get involved.”
“Tangtang listens to you more than anyone. Have a little cry and she’ll withdraw the complaint.”
Xu Tang scrolled up message by message. At 11:03 p.m. on the night before the graduation banquet, Lin Guodong had written: “Give me the phone. I’ll handle it. Read me her two passwords.”
She held the phone up in front of her mother. “Are you willing to repeat this to the police?”
Lin Huifang stared at the screen. Her lips trembled, and she nodded.
“There’s something else.” Lin Huifang clutched her phone again. “Your uncle took your dad’s wallet to a computer shop to have someone unlock it. I was there that day, too.”
Xu Tang looked at her.
“The technician said the password could only be tried three times. Your uncle said it had to be your birthday. He tried the lunar birthday we celebrate at home three times, in three different formats, and none worked.” Lin Huifang paused. “After the third try, the thing wiped itself. The screen said to set it up again.”
Xu Tang couldn’t help the corner of her mouth twitching. Her password was her solar-calendar birthday from her ID card, set by her dad. Her family celebrated her birthday according to the lunar calendar every year. Lin Guodong had probably never remembered the other date.
“I’d already moved the coins. I transferred them that very night,” she said. “What he wiped was an empty shell.”
Before she could finish, the doorbell rang, long and urgent.
Lin Guodong stood outside the door, one hand braced against the frame. When he saw Xu Tang there, he froze, then forced a smile.
“Tangtang, good, you’re here. Your uncle’s thought it over. I’ll pay you back slowly—5,000 a month, and I’ll write an IOU. Withdraw the complaint, and we can still be family.”
“At 5,000 a month, it’ll take you more than six years to repay 380,000,” Xu Tang said. “You’re transferring the apartment to Xiao Hao. What can I do to make sure you pay me back?”
Lin Guodong’s smile vanished. “Who told you that?”
“I did.” Lin Hao came up the stairs, with Ge Lei behind him. “Dad, I won’t sign the transfer. And I’ve already agreed to give the photos to the police.”
Lin Guodong turned and glared at his son, raising a hand to hit him. Ge Lei grabbed his arm and stopped him.
Lin Huifang stood up from the sofa and walked to the door. She turned her phone screen toward her brother.
“Brother, I’ll take these messages to the police station tomorrow,” she said. “I accept that I read Tangtang’s password to you. But you took her phone and transferred the money. You lied to me and said it was for Xiao Hao’s bride price.”
Lin Guodong’s hand fell to his side. He looked at his sister, then his son, and finally at Xu Tang. His mouth opened several times, but he couldn’t get a complete sentence out.
Xu Tang walked over and pulled the door wide open.
“Uncle, that day on the stage, you said I was just a girl and putting off my studies for a year wouldn’t matter.” She said, “Now it’s your turn. You can’t wait a single day to deal with your own mess.”
Chapter Nine: Empty Shell
The next day, Lin Huifang went to the police station to give a new statement and handed Officer Meng the WeChat records. Lin Hao went too. He handed over the three photos and showed them where the family desktop computer was.
A week later, Officer Meng called Xu Tang. The case had been filed. Lin Guodong was suspected of theft, had been summoned for questioning, and had been released pending trial.
“Whether he compensates you will affect how the case is handled from here,” Officer Meng said. “If he wants leniency, he’ll need to show he’s serious.”
Lin Guodong showed he was serious by first selling the SUV he’d driven for five years.
The 90,000 left in the margin-trading account, plus the money from selling the car, brought the total to 300,000, which he deposited into Xu Tang’s account. For the remaining 80,000, he signed a repayment agreement in the mediation room at the police station, promising to pay it off over twelve months. He put the apartment in his name up as collateral, and a copy of the property certificate was attached to the agreement.
As he signed, his pen stopped several times.
Halfway through, he put the pen down again and looked at Officer Meng across the mediation table.
“Officer, there were thirty tables at the graduation banquet that day. I booked the hotel, and I also covered the 12,000 deposit. Shouldn’t that be deducted from the 80,000?”
Before Xu Tang could respond, Lin Huifang, sitting beside her, took out her phone.
“Brother, I paid the hotel deposit and the balance.” She opened the payment records and pushed the phone toward Officer Meng. “All you did was make a phone call for me.”
Officer Meng glanced at the records, then at Lin Guodong. “Sign it. Other accounts aren’t part of this agreement.”
Lin Guodong stared at his sister. Lin Huifang didn’t look away. She put her phone back in her bag and fastened it shut.
He picked up the pen again. This time, he signed quickly, the last stroke running outside the box.
“Tangtang, your uncle’s getting on in years. Could you write me a letter of forgiveness?”
“I’ll think about it once you’ve paid back the 80,000.” Xu Tang folded her copy of the agreement. “A letter of forgiveness isn’t something you get in exchange for paying in installments.”
Lin Guodong braced one hand on the table and said nothing more.
Lin Hao’s engagement was postponed. The Ge family didn’t break off the match. They only said that once this matter was settled, both families could sit down and talk again. The bride price would still be 88,000, and Lin Hao would have to earn it himself.
Xu Tang’s dad received all the documents on the ship and hired a lawyer to claim compensation from Lin Guodong for the wrongful asset freeze. They itemized the losses caused by those few days the account was frozen.
Most of the money had come back, but there was still a shortfall. The 300,000, plus her dad’s 150,000 and the 30,000 left in the securities account, still wasn’t enough to cover the total cost of studying abroad.
Xu Tang sat in my rental all night. The next day, she sold 0.6 bitcoin to make up the difference.
“Dad said this money was for emergencies while I’m abroad.” She put down her phone. “I guess this counts as an emergency.”
On the Wednesday before the end of the month, Xu Tang got her proof of funds from the bank. That afternoon, she paid the deposit. When the confirmation email from Edinburgh popped up, she was sitting in front of the counter. She turned the screen toward me, then turned it back and read it again.
When we returned to the Xu family home, Lin Huifang was making soup in the kitchen. Hearing the door, she came out without even taking off her apron.
“You paid it?”
“I paid it.”
Lin Huifang nodded, wiped her hands on her apron, and stood still.
Xu Tang took two things out of her bag and placed them on the coffee table.
One was the black hardware wallet. After the police finished collecting evidence, Officer Meng had returned it. The screen still displayed the English prompt to set it up again.
The other was the receipt for her bank card. Her own number was now printed in the field for the mobile number on file.
“Mom, I don’t want the wallet. Put it back in the jewelry box,” Xu Tang said. “From now on, you don’t need to keep track of my cards or passwords for me.”
Lin Huifang reached out and paused over the wallet, but didn’t touch the receipt.
“Tangtang, Mom knows she was wrong.”
“I know you do.” Xu Tang put the receipt back in her bag. “But when I leave, don’t let Uncle come to see me off.”
Lin Huifang carried the empty wallet into the bedroom. I heard the little brass lock on the jewelry box above the wardrobe click shut.
Xu Tang stood in the living room. The banner that read “Congratulations to Xu Tang on Her Admission to the University of Edinburgh for a Master’s Degree” was still rolled up in the corner, covered with dust. She picked it up, shook it out, rolled it tightly, and put it in her suitcase.
“I’m taking this with me,” she said. “My name is on it.”
#虚构故事 #GraduationBanquet
(This is a work of fiction. All characters and events are fictional. Nothing here constitutes investment advice.)