Chapter 8: Eight Million Hits the Account, Destination: the Special Economic Zone

June in River City felt like living inside a steamer basket. The lid had been clamped shut, and heat seeped into every crack between the bones. The central air-conditioning system at Emerald Garden ran around the clock, keeping the living room as cool as another season. Mrs. Lyson still could not break her old habit. Every morning, she pushed open all the windows for ventilation, only for River to close them again. He had already pressed them shut three times. "Mom, if the air conditioning's on, you don't need to open the windows." "Does electricity grow on trees?" "Come on, we can afford it." Mrs. Lyson muttered about him being wasteful, but her hands obediently closed the windows. June 7. The first day of the College Entrance Examination. River drove to the entrance of the neighborhood early that morning and waited. When Renee came out of the building, her ponytail was tied high, and she carried a canvas schoolbag bleached pale from years of washing. She walked faster than usual. She opened the car door and climbed in. Before she had even fastened her seat belt, she lowered her head and began searching through her admission documents. "Nervous?" "I'm fine." Renee's voice was steady, but River noticed that her left hand kept rubbing the hem of her uniform. "I'll take you out for hot pot after the exams." "Big brother, your way of encouraging people is always to feed them." "If it works, that's all that matters." By the time they reached the entrance of River City No. 1 High School, a huge crowd of parents had gathered outside. Some held sunflowers. Others held banners. One middle-aged woman even had a megaphone and was shouting, "May you achieve victory from the very first question!" Renee pushed open the car door and took two steps before turning back. "Big brother." "Yeah?" "I'm going to do better than ever." With that, she turned and ran through the school gates, her ponytail swinging in the sunlight. River stayed in the car, lit a cigarette, and watched the noisy crowd outside. Two days. Once those two days of exams were over, he could finally set aside the last thing tying him to River City, at least for a while. June 9. The College Entrance Examination ended. When Renee came out of the examination hall, she looked as if someone had pulled every bone from her body. She slumped against the seat with her eyes closed, though the corners of her mouth still curved upward. "How did it feel?" "I didn't finish the third part of the last math problem." "Then you're guaranteed to do well." "How do you figure that?" "The last part was designed for perfect scorers. If an ordinary student couldn't finish it, that was perfectly normal." Renee opened one eye and glanced at him. "Big brother, how many points did you get in math on your College Entrance Examination?" "Don't bring it up." "So you didn't finish it either." River did not answer. The corner of his mouth twitched. The hot pot dinner happened that very evening. The four of them crowded around a split hotpot. Mrs. Lyson moved faster than anyone else, piling food into Renee's bowl one chopstickful at a time. "Eat more, eat more. Look how thin you've gotten. You probably barely ate during the exams, did you?" Renee's cheeks were stuffed full. She could only answer with a muffled, "Mm-hmm, mm-hmm." Mason Lyson rarely drank, but that night he finished two bottles of beer. His face had gone red all the way to his neck. He slapped the table and declared, "The Lyson family is going to have a college student!" The private room filled with steam and laughter. Halfway through the meal, River's phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, but the area code belonged to River City. He answered, listened for thirty seconds, then set down his chopsticks. "What is it?" Mason asked when he saw River's expression change. "The Economic Development Zone Demolition Office." River slipped the phone back into his pocket and smiled as if nothing had happened. "They told me to come sign the papers the day after tomorrow. The factory land is officially being demolished." June 15. The No. 3 Machinery Factory. By the time River arrived, the demolition officials were already there. Three of them, two men and one woman, carrying folders, official seals, and a laptop. Their leader was Director Zorn, a man in his early forties who looked like a seasoned bureaucrat who had spent years dealing with people facing demolition and relocation. The factory occupied thirty mu of land, roughly five acres. After accounting for the factory buildings, auxiliary structures, equipment relocation, compensation for halted production, and the land's increased value, the total assessment came to $7.86 million. Nearly eight million dollars. After reading out the figure, Director Zorn instinctively glanced across the table. The young man in his twenties wore a black T-shirt and lounged back in his chair, rolling a pen between his fingers. He did not bargain or raise a single objection. He did not even study the detailed assessment. River took the documents, flipped straight to the last page, signed his name, and pressed down his thumbprint. The entire process took less than ten minutes. Director Zorn had seen people facing demolition cry, make a scene, and even roll around on the ground. This was the first time he had seen someone sign away eight million dollars as casually as accepting a package delivery. "Mr. Lyson, the compensation will be transferred to the designated account within seven to ten business days." He rose and extended his hand, his manner utterly sincere. "If you have any questions, please contact me at any time." River shook his hand. June 26. Thursday. Ten in the morning. River went to the bank alone. The young teller handled everything by the book. She took his card, ran it through the machine, and printed out the balance slip. Then she stopped. She tore the receipt from the printer and held it up for a second look. $7.86 million exactly. Adding the more than $200,000 already in the account, the balance came to $8,073,460. The teller lifted her head and opened her mouth, but professionalism kept her from blurting out what she was thinking. Instead, she pressed the call button on the counter. Three seconds later, a financial manager came hurrying over. "Sir, would you care to step into our private banking lounge? We can offer you a dedicated-" "No need. Thank you." River smiled, tucked the card into his pocket, collected the receipt, and turned toward the exit. More than eight million dollars. Back in his previous life, when he had worked hauling bricks at construction sites, he had once done the math. At $300 a month, even if he spent nothing, he could save for a hundred years and still never reach this amount. Outside the bank, the sunlight stabbed at his eyes. River pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and stood on the steps, gazing at River City's skyline. It was time to leave. That evening. Emerald Garden, living room. Four dishes and a soup filled the table while the central air-conditioning system hummed overhead. Mrs. Lyson had just come out of the kitchen and was untying her apron. Mason sat on the sofa watching the news. Renee had curled up on the balcony with a copy of Readers. "Dad, Mom, Renee, come sit down," River said as he switched off the television. The three of them studied his expression and sensed that something was coming. "The factory compensation came through today." The apron strings were still caught in Mrs. Lyson's hands. She froze. "H-how much?" "$7.86 million." The living room fell silent for three seconds. Mrs. Lyson's lips moved, but no sound came out. Then she suddenly gripped the arm of the sofa and sank onto it, as if her legs had given way. "How much did you say?" "Nearly eight million dollars." Mason's enamel mug struck the tea table with a clang. Tea splashed across the surface, but he did not seem to notice. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His expression resembled someone trying to solve a math problem whose answer refused to come out right. That factory, the one he had nearly sold to Victor Zimmerman for ten thousand dollars, was worth eight million now. If he had sold it back then... A sheen of cold sweat broke across Mason's back. He looked at River, his lips trembling slightly. "Back then... it was lucky you stopped me from selling it." "That's in the past." River pulled out a chair and sat down, his tone relaxed. "There's something else I need to tell you." He glanced over their faces. There was no point beating around the bush. "We don't have to worry about money anymore. We have a house, we have a car, and I've already set aside enough for Renee's college expenses. I'm leaving the family one million dollars. Put it in the bank and live off the interest. Spend it normally. It'll be more than enough." The shock Mrs. Lyson had just begun to recover from struck her all over again. "One... one million dollars?" "I'm going to use the rest to start a business." River looked at Mason. "Dad, I'm going to Newhaven." "Newhaven?" Mason frowned. "River City is too small." River tapped his fingers lightly on the tabletop twice. Mason fell silent for a long time. He was an honest man. An honest man's instinct was to play it safe, avoid unnecessary risks, and believe that eight million dollars was enough to last three lifetimes. Why gamble with it? But he looked at the son sitting across from him. In just over a month, that son had gone from being mocked behind his back as the useless fool from the Lyson family to the man he was today. Not one of River's decisions had been wrong so far. "You decide for yourself." Mason lifted his enamel mug and took a sip of tea, his voice heavy. "Your dad's getting old. I can't keep up with you anymore. But you've got a clear head. Whatever you choose to do, I'll support you." Mrs. Lyson's eyes reddened. She knew nothing about what kind of business awaited him in Newhaven, but she understood that her son was leaving. "How long will you be gone? Can you come home for the New Year?" "Mom, Newhaven isn't another country. It's only a two-hour flight." River smiled. "But how are you going to eat by yourself out there?" "Can someone with money really starve?" Renee had not spoken once. She sat on the corner of the sofa with her knees hugged to her chest and listened quietly. Only after Mrs. Lyson began wiping away her tears did Renee speak. "Go, big brother. I'll take care of things here." That was all she said. River looked at his eighteen-year-old sister. She had grown up. He reached over and ruffled her hair. "When your admission letter arrives, I'll come back and take you out for a proper feast." June 28. Nine in the morning. River City Prosperton Airport. River stood at the check-in counter with a suitcase in tow. He wore sunglasses and a short-sleeved black shirt. Behind him stood the family of three from Emerald Garden, who had escorted him all the way to the entrance. Mrs. Lyson's eyes were still red, and she held out a plastic food bag filled with boiled eggs and braised beef. "Eat them if you get hungry on the way." River took the bag and stuffed it into his backpack. Mason stood behind her with both hands clasped behind his back, his lips pressed into a thin line. He stared at his son's back, clearly wanting to say something. In the end, he only gave River's shoulder a hard slap. Father and son said nothing. At the entrance to the security checkpoint, River turned around for one last look. The three of them stood beyond the barrier. Mrs. Lyson wiped at her eyes. Mason stood ramrod straight. Renee waved at him. River raised a hand and gave them an "OK" sign before turning and walking through the checkpoint. Southern Airlines Flight CZ3372, from River City to Newhaven. The broad leather seat in first class reclined slightly. Outside the window, clouds stretched endlessly toward the horizon. River City had become a blurry gray speck far below, growing smaller and smaller until it vanished beneath the clouds. A flight attendant pushed over a meal cart and bent down with a smile. "Sir, what would you like to drink?"