"No need. Take it, take it all!"
When Jiang Chen tossed the bank card over, Uncle Wei tossed it right back.
"The bureau feeds me and provides everything I use. I don't have a single cent to spend."
That was true enough.
When Jiang Chen went to the Finance Department to use the card, it held a full 36 million, not a cent missing. Uncle Wei probably hadn't touched the money since retiring thirty years ago.
He charged fifty thousand to it, half a month's salary.
That left 35.95 million on the card.
Yet Uncle Wei had casually tossed such a huge sum over to him.
At that moment, he stood on the steps outside the building, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, his aged body hunched and his face, turned away from the sunlight, wreathed in smiles.
With a hint of mischief, he called, "Kid!"
"I'm weak, and I can't find anyone to pass my Dharma Transmission on to. I'll give you everything I have. When I die, how about you wrap me in a straw mat, dig a bigger hole to bury me in, and stick two cigarettes in front of my grave?"
Seeing that Jiang Chen seemed about to refuse,
Uncle Wei grew agitated.
The smoke he inhaled caught in his throat, and he coughed violently until his face turned red.
"Cough, cough... I'm old. So old!"
"I'm no use anymore. I probably won't be long before I come to see you... Captain, Xiaowan..."
He gazed toward the horizon, his clouded eyes filled with reminiscence.
Then he glared at Jiang Chen again. "Kid! Can't you do the math on a deal this good? One straw mat and two cigarettes for half a lifetime of this old man's savings. Pass this up, and you won't get another chance!"