Old Man Zhou was refreshed by happy events. His son had made something of himself and had brought home a Golden Pipe for him yesterday.
The pipe stem was pure gold, exquisitely crafted. One look told him it was high-end goods.
He had worked at the trading house for decades, so he still had an eye for judging quality.
There was not only the pipe stem, but jewelry for his old wife as well—things no ordinary family could afford.
He still remembered his old wife's rather amusing reaction. Facing the gleaming goldware, she had repeatedly waved her hands in refusal, terrified that their son had done something wrong.
Later, You'er explained that it had been a gift from his fellow senior disciple, and only then had she accepted it.
"You'er's fellow disciples are all either rich or noble. I'm the only father who brings him shame. Sigh!"
Thinking of this, Old Man Zhou felt a wave of gloom in his heart.
Everyone hoped their sons would become successful, yet having a son who was too successful was not necessarily a good thing. When it came to his own family, he could only complain that he was unable to help his son.
Even if the Zhou Family emptied its entire fortune, they could not scrape together a return gift worthy of such a lavish present!
Debts of gratitude were the hardest to repay!
You'er had accepted someone else's gift; who knew what difficult demands might be placed on him in the future.
Old Man Zhou loved the golden pipe stem dearly, yet he did not dare use it to smoke, afraid the tobacco tar would blacken it.
He played with it for half the night. After polishing it clean, he wrapped it in cotton cloth and carefully stored it in a cabinet.
When he went to work at the trading house the next day, his mind was still on the Golden Pipe.
"Old Zhou, you've worked at our trading house for over thirty years now, haven't you?"
The one who had come looking for him was Shopkeeper Xu, one of the trading house's top three managers. Not only did he draw a generous salary, but he also owned a portion of the trading house's shares and received a considerable dividend every year.
The trading house had no shortage of workers like Old Man Zhou, people who had muddled through more than half their lives and remained lowly clerks.
But it also had talented people like Shopkeeper Xu.
He too had started out as a clerk. He had a sweet tongue, a sharp eye, and an excellent memory, and he handled every aspect of things with tact. He had been deeply valued by the old master.
He had risen all the way from clerk to shopkeeper in only twenty years.
"Shopkeeper Xu, if we count it up, it should be thirty-one years and more."
Old Man Zhou was somewhat flattered. Usually, even the head clerks in the trading house could order him about at will; when would he ever have had the chance to meet a shopkeeper?
Even though his son and Shopkeeper Xu's son were fellow disciples, he had never thought of using that to forge a connection.
Shopkeeper Xu smiled. "You're one of our trading house's old hands too."
He nodded, then asked a question that made Old Man Zhou's heart skip a beat. "Why haven't I seen you using that Golden Pipe?"
The Golden Pipe—how did Shopkeeper Xu know about it too?
Old Man Zhou was stunned, and for a moment, he did not know how to respond.
"Old Zhou, you're a man blessed with great fortune. You still don't know, do you? The Golden Pipe was given by Young Master."
Shopkeeper Xu looked at Old Man Zhou and could not help feeling emotional as well.
Among all the clerks, Old Zhou was the oldest and also the most honest. He only knew how to keep his head down and work, taking his wages home to support his family.
The trading house needed people like that, but it would never place much importance on them.
Who could have imagined that Old Zhou, with the temperament of an old yellow ox, could raise a son who looked like a young tiger?
He had already learned from his son Xu Ying that Old Zhou's son, Zhou You, had recently become a full member of the martial arts school and had even caught the eye of its master, Wang Jianxiong.
Young Master Shen Sijing had hosted a banquet at Golden Harvest Tower to win him over, and Xu Ying had gone as a guest to keep him company.
"See this little golden fish? It was a congratulatory gift Young Master gave my son when he became a full member."
Shopkeeper Xu brushed a hand over his waist. A lifelike little goldfish, also made of pure gold, hung from a ribbon there.
He said with a smile, "Now, you and I are the same."
There was a deeper meaning hidden within those words.
Old Man Zhou only felt his chest swell, and he could not speak the many words in his heart.
He had thought he knew his son had made something of himself, but he had not known his son had made this much of himself.
Young Master—a figure among the ranks of noble sons—had actually invited You'er to dinner, and at a place like Golden Harvest Tower.
He knew of Golden Harvest Tower too. It was the designated place where the trading house entertained high-end clients, and a single meal could burn through untold amounts of money.
"The pipe stem was given to you so you could use it. Don't hide it away—take it out and show it off more often."
Shopkeeper Xu smiled as he advised him.
Old Man Zhou repeatedly said he did not dare. Then he suddenly realized that the year Shopkeeper Xu had been promoted to shopkeeper was precisely the year his son Xu Ying had become a full member of the martial arts school.
At the time, several people had competed with him for the shopkeeper position. They were all old hands of the trading house, with seniority if one spoke of seniority, and connections if one spoke of connections.
Yet in the end, it was Shopkeeper Xu who had stood out from the crowd.
Could it be...
"Old Zhou, the trading house has recently been short a head clerk. I've thought it over and over. You've worked here for thirty years and know everything inside and out. Would you be willing to give it a try?" Old Man Zhou's mind buzzed. Was this a promotion?
Heaven had taken pity on him. After working for so many years, he had long since become disheartened. Who could have imagined that this day would still come?
A head clerk might be less than nothing in the eyes of the trading house's upper ranks, appointed or dismissed with a single word from a shopkeeper, but among the vast number of clerks, he still counted as an official of some size.
No matter how hard Old Man Zhou worked normally, because he refused to curry favor with the head clerks, he was always cursed until he was drenched in dog's blood.
As the saying went, a county magistrate was no match for the official directly in charge.
"I'm willing."
Old Man Zhou's blood rushed to his head, and he agreed without another word.
He was not doing it for himself. Even if it was only to win some face for his son, he had to seize this opportunity tightly.
Otherwise, when his son spoke with his fellow senior disciples in the future, how would he introduce what his father did for a living?
"I knew I hadn't misjudged you, Old Zhou. We've worked for the trading house our entire lives; the most important thing is having the heart to serve the master."
Shopkeeper Xu said with a smile, "From now on, we should grow closer. After all, my son and your You'er have quite a good relationship too."
When Old Man Zhou left Shopkeeper Xu, he was completely dazed, his feet soft as though he were treading on cotton.
As he stepped outside, he stumbled and nearly fell to the ground. A figure rushed over like lightning and caught him.
"Brother Zhou, are you all right?"
Old Man Zhou looked at the other man. The head clerk, usually fierce as a demon and evil as a fiend, was now supporting him with a beaming smile.
Brother Zhou—this was the first time he had heard that form of address. Hadn't the man always called him "Old Zhou" before?
"Brother Zhou, I've already heard. Shopkeeper Xu promoted you to head clerk."
"From now on, you're one of Shopkeeper Xu's own people. I'm happy for you."
"These fifty taels of silver are my congratulatory gift. Please don't think it's too little. This younger brother will offer you more respect in the future!"
Back then, in order to gather fifty taels, Old Man Zhou had borrowed from every friend and relative he had, worrying until his hair nearly turned white.
Yet the head clerk before him had casually produced a huge red packet of fifty taels.
"No, I accept the sentiment, but I can't take the money."
Old Man Zhou shook his head. Though the gleaming silver was dazzling, it did not blind his heart.
The head clerk wanted to say more, but at that moment, someone else came to Old Man Zhou's rescue.
The Accountant coughed twice and walked over. "Old Zhou, I was just looking for you!"
"Then I won't disturb you any longer."
The head clerk left resentfully, pondering how he could deliver the money.
"Thank you..."
Old Man Zhou had barely opened his mouth when the Accountant grabbed his sleeve and dragged him away.
"Old Zhou, I'm taking you out for drinks. My treat."
Old Man Zhou thought that he still had not repaid the money he owed him. Now that he had been promoted and his wages would rise, it was the perfect time to settle that debt.
He immediately said, "I can't let you treat. I'll repay the silver I owe you in a few days."
"Old Zhou, you don't consider me a friend."
The Accountant pulled a long face. "If you don't let me treat today, then our friendship is over."
"And when did you ever owe me money? Why don't I remember? Don't talk nonsense."
Old Man Zhou felt as though he were in a dream. Had he gotten out of bed wrong this morning and still not woken up?
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