Deception

An old dark green jeep sat in a corner of the warehouse, covered in a layer of dust.

Aditya crouched down to look. There were no oil stains on the undercarriage.

Aditya had the salesman open all the doors. In the light, the interior looked very clean. Madan went over to feel the paint, then crouched to inspect the tires. Dipti stood at the entrance without coming in.

Pleased with the jeep, Aditya asked, "How much is this one?"

The salesman named a price. Aditya did not haggle, only asked, "Can we take it for a test drive?"

"Yes."

"Let's test it."

The salesman drove the jeep out of the warehouse. Aditya had Madan sit in the passenger seat and took the driver's seat himself.

Madan asked in surprise, "Aditya, how do you know how to drive?"

"I learned at university," Aditya bluffed. Naturally, he had learned to drive in his previous life.

Madan looked at him suspiciously but asked no more. Beside them, Dipti was even more puzzled. Luckzi University certainly did not teach driving.

He started the engine. The jeep ran smoothly, though shifting into third gear was a little stiff. Aditya drove back, switched off the engine, and got out.

"There's a problem with the gearbox. I'll have to fix it myself," Aditya said. "Take another twenty thousand off your asking price."

"Sir, twenty thousand is too much..." the salesman said with a pained expression.

Aditya cut him off. "How long has this jeep been sitting in the warehouse? The tires still have last year's mud on them. You definitely didn't pay much for it. I'll give you two thousand above what you paid. If you don't agree, I'll go somewhere else."

The salesman looked at Madan, who added, "My nephew is right."

The salesman hesitated a little longer, then nodded. "All right. I'll cover the transfer and registration. You have to let me earn these five thousand rupees."

"Get the two of us driver's licenses too, included in those five thousand," Madan said.

Aditya had completely forgotten about driver's licenses. Fortunately, this was India. In India, a Brahmin who did not pull strings was the exception.

"That accursed caste system!"

Aditya paid the deposit. The salesman went into the back room and returned a while later with a sheet listing the vehicle price, transfer fee, miscellaneous charges, and tax.

Aditya took it and looked down at it.

Dipti leaned over too. "The tax is wrong," she said suddenly.

Surprised, Aditya looked up. "What?"

"Under state regulations, the used-vehicle transaction tax is three percent of the vehicle price," Dipti said, pointing at the sheet. "He's calculated it at five point five percent here. That's six or seven hundred rupees too much."

The salesman's expression changed. He said quietly, "Miss, this is standard practice in the trade..."

"I know the tax rate," Dipti continued. "Lucknow's used-vehicle transaction tax hasn't changed since 1990."

Dipti had done more than take exams during her four years at university. She had pored over every ledger and tax booklet she could find until they were worn to shreds. She could spot an issue with a minor tax like this at a glance.

Standing beside her, Aditya smiled inwardly.

He knew he had found a treasure. His treasure girl was already saving him money before she had even started working. What made a qualified employee? Wasn't the answer right here?

The salesman was so anxious that sweat was about to break out on his forehead. He went into the back room and dug out an old booklet. After pretending to read it for a while, he said, "I did remember it wrong. Three percent, then. All right?"

Aditya said nothing. Dipti checked the sheet again and pointed at a blank field. "The notarization fee isn't specified."

The salesman glanced at Madan. Madan turned his face away.

"Three hundred," the salesman said.

"Fine. Wash the jeep clean for me," Aditya said.

The salesman had no fight left in him. He wrote out a new sheet, correcting the tax and miscellaneous charges.

Dipti checked it once more before handing it to Aditya. "It's correct this time."

Aditya nodded, then told the salesman, "Then we'll settle on this price. Everything needs to be done today. When can we pick up the jeep?"

"All right. It'll be two in the afternoon before you can pick it up," the salesman answered weakly.

After paying the deposit, the three of them walked out.

Madan walked ahead, then suddenly turned back and said to Dipti, "A friend of Aditya's really is something else."

At a loss, Dipti looked at Aditya.

"I told you, my senior was top of the accounting department," Aditya said proudly.

Dipti grew shy. She lowered her head, feeling warmth in her heart.

Madan glared at Aditya again. His look said, Let's see how you explain this when we get back.

Aditya understood at once. Madan was not opposed to Dipti; this matter simply needed a reasonable explanation.

"Then shall we go straight to Kanpur this afternoon to buy the machinery?" Madan asked.

"That works. We'll stay in Kanpur tonight and get everything ready tomorrow."

Dipti stood rooted to the spot, stunned.

"Buy machinery in Kanpur," she repeated, looking at Aditya with a trace of bewilderment in her eyes.

"Your factory hasn't even been built." Dipti grew agitated and demanded, "Yesterday you told me the textile factory's accounts were often wrong and asked me to help with the bookkeeping."

Aditya looked at her. This is bad.

"You lied to me," she said.

Madan stood beside them, his gaze shifting from Dipti to Aditya. Of course he knew about building the factory. What he did not understand was why this female accountant was saying these things now.

The factory had indeed not been built yet. Wasn't that obvious? He had found it strange when Aditya brought her along. How long had his nephew known this girl? Why had he already let her come with them?

Now he understood. His nephew had passed the textile factory off as already built and tricked her into coming.

Madan's face remained expressionless. He quietly took two steps aside, slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, and watched the three-wheelers pass along the street.

He did not intend to get involved. Aditya was now the one in charge of the Mishra family. He would have to sort out this sort of thing himself.

The sun blazed overhead, and hot wind swirled dust outside the dealership. Dipti stood in the wind, gripping the strap of her cloth bag tightly.

"There isn't any textile factory at all. You've been lying to me all along," she repeated, as though confirming it for herself. Her eyes were a little red, but she did not cry.

Aditya looked at her and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lie to you. The textile factory hasn't been built yet, but I've already prepared everything. Even the industry bureau has approved it."

"Then why did you say the accounts were often wrong?" Dipti said, a hint of tears in her voice. "You don't even have a single machine yet."

"We have the land. The loan's been approved." Aditya spoke quickly, hurriedly explaining, "We're going to Kanpur this afternoon for the machinery and buying it tomorrow. I really didn't mean to lie to you. If I hadn't said that, you definitely wouldn't have come with me yesterday."

"So you lied to me." Dipti looked at him. "You knew perfectly well I had nowhere left to go. You knew perfectly well you were the only person I could trust."

Aditya fell silent for a few seconds.

In his previous life, he had grown used to setting expectations first and making reality catch up later. That was how the investment world played the game. But the person before him was neither an analyst nor a client. She was a senior with nowhere left to turn, who placed great trust in her junior. She had believed him, only to be deceived.

"I was wrong about this," Aditya said. "I apologize."

Dipti said nothing.

"I brought you to buy the jeep and to go to Kanpur, not because I wanted to deceive you," Aditya continued. "I'm going to get the factory running, and I need your help. The factory hasn't been built yet, but I know the textile factory will definitely need you."

Dipti lowered her head, her shoulders shaking up and down. After a while, she said, "Why did you have to lie to me? If you'd told me the truth, I still would have come."

"I'm sorry," Aditya said.

Dipti raised her head. Her eyes were still red, very moist and glistening, but no tears fell.

"I'll go to Kanpur with you. Don't lie to me again. I don't like being deceived."

Aditya nodded firmly. "I won't."

Dipti lifted her cloth bag and hugged it to her chest.

Seeing that the two had calmed down again, Madan could not help marveling at his nephew's skill. He looked at his nephew, a question in his eyes.

"What do we do next?"