The Big Brother

As the saying went, wealth should never be flaunted. Then again, when the time came to flaunt it, you had to flaunt it. Chen Qi had deliberately brought the group along for two reasons: first, for his own safety, and second, to let them have an eyeful—especially Li Lianjie. The effect was remarkable; the kid hadn't uttered a single peep since stepping out of the bank. "Chen... Brother Qi!" Wang Qun was the same age as him, though born a few months later. For the very first time, he called him "Brother." "Are you... are you... I mean, all this money..." "Oh, I wrote a screenplay for a Hong Kong company—the action director's outfit, to be exact. It's just my writing fee." "You wrote a script for Hong Kong?!" "That's incredible!" Ge Chunyan and Huang Qiuyan exclaimed together, their faces full of sheer wonder. In those days, Hong Kong seemed like paradise itself to mainlanders. "What's so great about Hong Kong? I still feel like I was shortchanged!" Chen Qi had skin as thick as the sole of a shoe, putting on the full posture of a boss from later generations—making two million less meant losing two million. After all, what he had sent over was far more than just a script! There were also all those drawn design concepts, which was virtually handing the entire production of *The Miracle Fighters* over to Yuen Woo-ping on a silver platter. If mainland studios hadn't been incapable of shooting it, and the left-wing studios hadn't been barred from doing so as well, he would never have parted with it. Glancing at Li Lianjie, he provoked him intentionally, "Xiao Li, what's on your mind?" "Huh? Nothing." Li Lianjie paused for a second before saying, "Does this make you... one of those 'ten-thousand-yuan households' the newspapers talk about?" "I suppose so. But this money won't stay in my hands for long. My parents are helping me look for a place right now; I want to buy a house of my own... Today's a happy day, and anyone who's here gets a share of the luck. Come on, let's head to the Overseas Chinese Store!" And so, the group made their way to Xidan. Down on the basement level of the Xidan Department Store, there was a fairly large Overseas Chinese Store. Many people were familiar with Friendship Stores, but the two were distinct: Overseas Chinese Stores catered to Chinese citizens, whereas Friendship Stores catered to foreigners and overseas Chinese. Old friend Sihanouk was a regular at Friendship Stores, spending lavishly. When he shopped, he never picked this or that; he simply pointed out the single thing he *didn't* want, and bought everything else. Then there was Imelda Marcos, the wife of Philippine President Marcos, who once bought a thousand Jinhua hams in Shanghai. They had to scour food markets across the entire city to scrape together the full order and dispatch it straight to the airport. All of it was done for the sake of precious foreign currency! At that moment, the group arrived at the Overseas Chinese Store. Without overseas remittance certificates, they were not even permitted past the door, so Chen Qi went in alone. He nearly wept! Setting aside the dazzling array of goods, just the sight of the pretty saleswomen in their crisp uniforms gave him a long-lost brush with modern life. Life for a transmigrator was harsh; even the rough toilet paper scraped his backside. "Hello, sir! Welcome!" "Provisions are over here, daily necessities over there, arts and crafts are that way... and we have medicinal herbs over there as well!" "Great, I'll take a look on my own first." He took a casual stroll around. There was certainly an abundance of fine goods—from wristwatches and television sets to Moutai, cigarettes, and pastries, all the way to rosewood furniture and cultural antiques, nothing was missing. Carrying overseas remittance certificates didn't mean goods were free. The certificates served merely as proof of eligibility to purchase; you still had to pay RMB on top of that. Next, he drifted over to the medicinal herbs counter, which was even more extraordinary. Crude herbs, prepared Chinese patent medicines, and everything in between were on display. There was also a row of massive glass jars filled with steeped medicinal liquors, inside of which centipedes, scorpions, and snakes floated in utter tranquility. "What kind of liquor is that?" "Deer antler liquor!" "And that one?" "Tiger bone liquor!" Chen Qi's eyes lit up. Just as he was about to ask for more details, his gaze caught another jar. "What's that one over there?" "Oh, that's tiger penis liquor!" *Aha! Now this is good stuff! Truly good stuff!* He hurried over, leaned in to inspect it carefully, and asked, "Is it the real deal?" "Could a tiger have a fake one?" "No, I mean, is it from an actual tiger?" "Of course! It was produced more than ten years ago by the Beijing Chinese Medicine Factory—Li Shizhen brand tiger penis liquor!" "How much is it?" "We have bottled ones. Twelve yuan a bottle." *I'll take the whole lot!* Chen Qi had half a mind to yell it aloud, but he still cared about his dignity at the moment; several younger brothers were waiting outside, after all. A bottle of Moutai cost only eight yuan, while the tiger penis liquor went for twelve. But presented with the opportunity, would a real man choose Moutai or tiger penis? Did that even need asking? In just a few years, the state would place tigers under full protection. Chen Qi tore himself away from the counter with great reluctance, resolving to return the next day. Preparing for a rainy day never hurt. In the end, he purchased hard-to-find treats like chocolate, Western pastries, dried squid, canned luncheon meat, and the like, sauntering back out. "Whoa, what did you buy?" "Is it all great stuff in there?" Curiosity and impatience gnawed at them, but given their current level of familiarity, they felt awkward prying into his bags. Chen Qi opened them of his own accord, letting them take a peek, and laughed. "I'm heading home in a bit. Who wants to run an errand and take this over to the Beijing Film Studio to share with everyone?" "Huh? You're really giving this to us?" "You're too generous! From now on, I'm calling you Brother Xiao Chen!" "Don't mention it. Come on, take some first—grab whatever you want." Ge Chunyan and Huang Qiuyan felt self-conscious, hesitating for a moment before reaching toward the chocolate. Their martial arts team was provided with supplementary rations, but that amounted to little more than milk, eggs, and occasionally some meat. Chocolate and Western pastries, however, were imported luxuries. Li Lianjie had seen the world, but he had only ever eaten such things abroad. Where would he find them on an ordinary day? Clinging to his pride and self-esteem as a national champion, he wrestled with himself for a few seconds before rationalizing: *He sold a single script for thirty thousand Hong Kong dollars. What's a bite to eat? He told us to take it anyway!* And so, he reached in and took some as well. Wang Qun, being an honest soul, said, "I'll make the trip to the studio and hand them out to everyone." "All right, sorry to trouble you. How about you folks escort me home first?" "No problem, piece of cake!" "If we'd known you were this loaded, we would've rounded up a few more people. We should've brought Ji Chunhua—he looks terrifying enough!" "Forget it. Would Ji Chunhua look like a bodyguard or a bank robber? He'd be tackled to the ground before he even crossed the threshold." Those who accepted favors were quick to soften up. At the very least, the two girls were in high spirits, chattering away the entire trip. Li Lianjie continued to brood, stealing occasional glances at Chen Qi. *It looks like he isn't just capable—he's genuinely formidable!* A leader never feared people taking his generosity; he only feared them refusing it. If you wanted to be the big brother, you first had to learn to pick up the tab. If following someone brought zero benefits—just a few thousand yuan a month in salary, unpaid overtime, workplace mind games, around-the-clock WeChat bombardment, and not a trace of annual leave... did they think people in this era were disposable corporate batteries like in the future? *** "Well, look who's home!" "Why aren't you staying over at the studio? Did they give you time off?" Toward evening, his parents walked into the house to discover their helpful fairy snail of a son sitting at home, both surprised and delighted. "Wait, what did you bring back? Smelly socks?" With sharp eyes, Yu Xiuli spotted the bag. She casually tipped it onto the bed, and with a loud rustle, half the mattress was covered in a spill of banknotes and overseas remittance certificates. "Good heavens!" "Son, did you rob a bank?!" "Ahem... listen up, I've got an announcement!" Chen Qi pressed both hands down to calm them and said, "In the interest of promoting cultural and artistic exchanges between Beijing and Hong Kong, and with an eye toward Hong Kong's eventual return, I penned a screenplay for a film company. For that, I received ten thousand RMB in remuneration, along with these overseas remittance certificates. "I've decided that tomorrow, the whole family is going to the Overseas Chinese Store. I need a wristwatch, and you two can buy whatever catches your eye. After that, we're buying a television set for the house. "No need for a color TV just yet; those run into several thousands, and the value for money isn't great. "Let's get a large black-and-white set instead. Isn't Uncle Zhang's a big nine-inch black-and-white model? We'll get a twelve-inch one! I've already checked the prices; it's cheaper than the department stores, only four hundred and twenty yuan! "I withdrew a thousand, which should be more than enough. Don't fret over the money—once it's spent, I'll earn it right back. "Your son has made something of himself. He's officially a ten-thousand-yuan household!"