Liu Xinyu paused, as though he had sunk into that unpleasant memory.
No one spoke. The tea room was quiet, with only the occasional birdcall audible outside the window.
"Grandpa's worries weren't just about property."
"He also wanted to guide our lives."
"He often told us that making money was pointless, that there was no end to it. Money was a good thing, of course, but it was also a fucking bastard."
Liu Xinyu smiled. Wang Xiaoliang thought he must have been remembering what his grandfather looked like when he swore.
Because right then, the image in Wang Xiaoliang's own mind was of an old man cursing.
What surprised him was that Fan Qishan smiled too.
"He told me not to make money the way my dad did."
"He said, find a steady job, or become a government official, and live a stable life. If you like, going into scholarship would be good too. If nothing else works, just stay home and do nothing but have fun. As long as you don't do anything wicked or get yourself killed, that's enough."
"Later, something very curious happened."
"My dad's views actually began to overlap with my grandpa's."
"He also told me that becoming a government official would be best. Next best was to pursue scholarship and become a respected intellectual. Coming back to help him make money was the worst choice."
"He said, our family might be rich now, but rich people's status is still too low."
"At home, on our own little patch of turf, money counts for something. But once we're outside it, we always have to put up with being pushed around."
"When he said that, I could feel his helplessness."
"But there was one fundamental difference between my grandpa's attitude and my dad's."
"My grandpa didn't insist."