First Pot of Gold Secured

Fang Bai left Hengli Company. He planned to find a bank to deposit his money, keeping only a thousand or so yuan on him—anything more would risk theft.

He had already gotten his ID card processed and was glad he carried it with him; if the dorm manager had thrown it away, reapplying would have been a hassle.

The dormitory was crowded and chaotic, so workers usually kept their valuables on their person.

After 1985, China began implementing a resident ID card system, but in the early 1990s, there were still regions and individuals without such cards.

He arrived at the Post Office to open a passbook savings account.

In those days, depositing money at the post office was more convenient than at a bank; most towns had a post office, while banks were scarce and didn't allow cross-bank withdrawals, making cash access a real headache.

After waiting in line for half an hour, it was finally his turn.

The bank clerk was slightly surprised when he pulled out a stack of hundred-yuan bills.

But she didn't ask questions and quickly processed his transaction, her service attitude noticeably improving. Ten Thousand Yuan Households were rare in this era.

In her eyes, Fang Bai's attire and demeanor—confident and composed—suggested he was a man of experience, possibly the son of a business owner. She couldn't simply judge him by the address on his ID and assume he was a farmer.

Local workshops were common around here.

Soon, the transaction was complete.

A new line appeared in the deposit column of his passbook: "￥4000.00."

Fang Bai stepped out of the Post Office with light, purposeful strides. He opened the Golden Finger screen and saw that the wealth section had changed.

[Wealth: 5606.3 yuan]

His network count had also shifted.

[Network: 1]

So Wang Hengli was that connection.

A long-lost sense of achievement flickered in Fang Bai's eyes, and a confident, satisfied smile spread across his face. Wang Hengli had handed him both money and a connection.

What a thrill!

If Fang Bai hadn't been able to handle Wang Hengli and tried to get the money back, it would've been impossible!

This step relied entirely on the Golden Finger's power—knowing Wang Hengli's thoughts at all times was the only way he dared to scheme him.

In the 1990s, the allure of a few thousand yuan was irresistible.

That sum represented considerable wealth in this era, enough to afford a more comfortable and luxurious life.

For Fang Bai, it provided substantial capital for starting a business or investing.

That gave him more satisfaction than earning hundreds of thousands a few years later.

Not long after leaving the Post Office, the sun was about to set.

Fang Bai didn't have a watch, making it inconvenient to check the time—he either had to ask passersby or step into a shop to look at an old-fashioned clock.

He happened to pass a watch store and picked out a cheap domestic knockoff Friday Watch for a few dozen yuan. Brands like Oriental Lion, Shencheng, and Seiko were out of his consideration for now; he needed to save wherever he could.

He found a Cosmetics Shop to buy some disguise tools, then grabbed a more mature-looking outfit, a pair of gloves, and a black hat from a street stall. Nearby, he checked into a Hotel and stored his luggage there.

All this cost him about fifty or sixty yuan in total.

After changing into the new clothes, applying some dark foundation on his face, sticking on a fake beard, and putting on the hat and gloves, he barely passed for a man in his thirties.

Fang Bai didn't know any disguise techniques; his makeshift getup was rough. In the dim evening light, if no one paid close attention, even an acquaintance might not recognize him.

He couldn't change his height or build, so he tried to alter his walking posture.

First, he found a Restaurant for dinner, then hailed a Rickshaw to near 156 Changxin Road.

Fang Bai had never met Zhang Qian; he only knew what she looked like from Wang Hengli's information.

He checked the time—it was already eight in the evening.

In this era, Wen City didn't have apartment buildings yet; those would come a few years later. Zhang Qian lived in a two-story townhouse along a side street.

After observing the area for a while, he saw a flashily dressed woman in her twenties, carrying a bag and pulling out keys to unlock her door.

Fang Bai walked over unhurriedly.

"You're Zhang Qian, right?"

Zhang Qian had just returned from a fun night at the Nightclub. Startled by the hoarse voice calling her from behind, she spun around.

She eyed the middle-aged man warily—a stand-up collar, a hat, a scruffy beard, and the dim light made it hard to see his face.

His outfit, combined with the fact that they were alone on the street, sent a chill of fear through her. Her palms sweated. Robberies were common in these years.

And so were assaults.

Seeing her step back two paces and press against the door, Fang Bai knew he'd scared her. He quickly said, "Don't be nervous. I mean you no harm. Do you know Wang Hengli?"

"Who are you?"

"Han Li."

Fang Bai said calmly, "You don't know me, but I'm here to help you."

Zhang Qian heard him but didn't let her guard down. When he mentioned Wang Hengli, she didn't answer his question.

"I know about your relationship with Wang Hengli. He's already found out you've been using his money to support a lover, and he's furious—he's planning to come after you." Fang Bai spoke unhurriedly, watching Zhang Qian's micro-expressions as her brows shot up, then continued, "Tonight, he's going to tell Chen Li everything, smear you by claiming you seduced him, and try to win his wife's forgiveness.

But I think, given Chen Li's temper, she might forgive Wang Hengli, but she'll never let you off."

"I don't know what you're talking about. If you don't leave now, I'll scream!"

"It's fine if you don't admit it. I suggest you move out of here tonight. By tomorrow morning, Chen Li will most likely send people over. Breaking both your legs would be the least of it.

If she goes hard, she won't calm down unless she disfigures you.

If you doubt me, hang around nearby and watch for a few days. That's all I've got. Believe it or not." Fang Bai finished speaking and left.

Seeing him go, Zhang Qian quickly opened the door, went inside, and locked it behind her.

His words filled her with sheer panic.

If Wang Hengli knew she had a lover, he'd probably show her no mercy.

And from what she knew of Chen Li, that woman was indeed ruthless.

At that thought, she hurried back to her room to pack her valuables, not daring to linger in the house any longer.

After leaving, Fang Bai didn't go far. Instead, he sat nearby and watched Zhang Qian's place.

Sure enough, within just over ten minutes, he saw her frantically dragging a suitcase out of the small building.

Seeing that, Fang Bai left, satisfied.

That evening, after dinner, he returned to the hotel.

To save money, the hotel he'd checked into was shabby—a crude bed, no free toiletries or towels, and a shared bathroom.

After his shower, Fang Bai felt awkward. He'd forgotten to buy a towel and was dripping wet, so he had to resort to a dog-like shake to fling off as much water as he could. Back in the room, he spotted some paper and grabbed it to dry himself.

The next morning.

Fang Bai went again to the teahouse near 156 Changxin Road for an early breakfast.

Around eight-something, a few thuggish young men wielding clubs kicked open the door of 156 with a racket, stormed inside to search, and then left just as aggressively when they found no one.

The commotion stunned the neighbors.

Watching this, Fang Bai shook his head. Chen Li really was a vicious woman—no wonder she'd once thrown sulfuric acid at Zhang Qian, no wonder Wang Hengli was terrified of her.

He wasn't saving Zhang Qian; she didn't deserve his sympathy.

Those men were just tools to him.