Volume One, Chapter 11: The Reunion Banquet

“...Enough already,” Luo Xuan advised her gently. “My sister said there’s the subprime mortgage crisis in the U.S. right now; what if it affects you?”

Jiao Jie was startled. “Is 1997 coming back again?”

Luo Xuan thought not. “The U.S. subprime crisis is about speculative housing—treating houses like stocks, borrowing from banks to speculate, then the housing market crashes, money’s gone, people can’t survive, stop paying loans, banks go bankrupt. But we don’t speculate on houses here.”

Jiao Jie was puzzled. “Houses aren’t cheap; how can they be treated like stocks? Though, the past two years, housing prices really have shot up!”

Luo Xuan gasped. “Still rising? Houses are already so expensive!”

Jiao Jie said, “Prices are skyrocketing! I want to buy a place for Xiaoman—once I’ve saved enough, I’ll buy it. If I wait too long, I might not be able to afford it. Xiaoman studies well but doesn’t like sports; she’s introverted, has single eyelids, and dark skin just like her dad. When she goes to Beijing, a big city, what if she can’t find a boyfriend...”

“No one’s perfect. Xiaoman is better than most. Why do you keep focusing on her flaws every day?” Luo Xuan said seriously. “Xiaoman’s going to be a great boss someday, bringing investment to our Luosang County! Secretary Zhao said Xiaoman represents our county’s future.”

Jiao Jie nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m just overthinking.”

Luo Xuan smiled brightly. “Xiaoman’s taking the college entrance exam next year, and you’re already thinking about buying her a house?”

Jiao Jie playfully tapped her shoulder. “I learned it from your mom. She saved dowries for you three sisters. I don’t have such a good mom, but Xiaoman can have a good one.”

Luo Xuan was taken aback. “Dowry money? I have some too?”

Jiao Jie laughed. “You kids—all three of you do. Your mom’s temper’s not great, she was a bit harsh on you, but you’re her biological daughter. How could she not love you?” She patted Luo Xuan’s arm. “Do me a favor—park your car at the front gate.”

Business is business; it’s all about vitality.

Luo Xuan promptly agreed. “Sure, to boost your morale.”

...

Parking the car at the main entrance, Luo Xuan, without any prompting from Jiao Jie, confidently led her father’s mistress into the innermost private room.

Quiet and discreet.

The old man quietly tried to probe Luo Xuan. “Young lady, what did your grandmother say? After all, you’re the only son of Luo Wenbin. Is there an extra house we can stay in? Dabao can’t do without our care.”

“Call me by my name, not ‘young lady’,” Luo Xuan immediately rejected the diminutive term. “Didn’t my father tell you who I am?”

Before Old Wei could speak, Old Mrs. Wei scolded Luo Xuan: “Answer me when I ask. Where’s your manners? When you get married, how will your in-laws see you?”

Luo Xuan had never heard such backward nonsense in all her life. More than anger, she found it laughable.

Standing firm, she smiled and asked, “Are you going to say I have to count on this younger brother to back me up? But men can’t bear children; only those born from the same womb are true family. How do I know whose seed Dabao is?”

The young woman glared fiercely at Luo Xuan.

Old Mrs. Wei trembled with anger, shrieking, “What kind of words are those? In our hometown, no son means no marriage! Your dad said it himself—your mom was incapable, couldn’t bear a son, not the legitimate wife. My Wei Yinyin is his real wife; this child is his true son!”

Just as Luo Xuan was about to curse, a sharp slap echoed in the dim corridor—Old Mrs. Wei had been struck hard by Old Wei.

Old Wei scolded, “If you can’t speak properly, don’t speak at all!”

Old Mrs. Wei fell silent.

Luo Xuan was stunned, watching the old lady silenced by a slap, then glanced at Wei Yinyin who ignored the scene.

The group silently entered the private room.

Mother and younger sister were seated shoulder to shoulder, ready and alert. Uncle Lin Guodong sat beside Lin Zhaodi. Unlike the friendliness they pretended the other day, everyone’s faces were tight, the atmosphere tense.

Luo Xuan looked around; her mother left no seat for her on either side.

Fine, be sensible—she settled at the lower end, near where the dishes were served.

Once seated, the hostess brought in the dishes. The room was silent; even the child dared not make a sound, only the clinking of bowls and chopsticks.

Old Wei cleared his throat, speaking sternly, pointing at the young woman: “Before Luo Wenbin died, he made it clear to Yinyin that the Red Star Factory couldn’t be given cheaply to outsiders; it had to go to Dabao. My Wei Yinyin was an innocent female student who followed Luo Wenbin. Luo Wenbin said, for every son born, he’d reward 500,000 yuan. Now Luo Wenbin is gone; the son can’t have been born for nothing—you must come up with something.”

...

Five hundred thousand?!

Luo Xuan cursed silently as Lin Zhaodi calmly sipped tea, showing no emotion, silent for a long moment.

Luo Qi flicked her hair and snorted with laughter: “What female student? My dad was flirting with Wei Yinyin in a small roadside diner on the way to Dalian to pawn goods. Wei Yinyin was just a waitress. Innocently being my dad’s mistress? My dad had more than one mistress. Wei Yinyin isn’t even the second wife—she’s the third. If you can put up with that, it’s just for the money, isn’t it?”

Lin Zhaodi raised her hand to stop Luo Qi. In a low voice, she asked, “The child is five years old. Since a son was worth 500,000 yuan, why hasn’t Wei Yinyin given birth to more sons in the past five years?”

Old Mrs. Wei said, “She did get pregnant a few times but they were girls, and she had abortions.” She said it casually, “Luo Wenbin always gave 30,000 yuan as confinement money. Now this one is a son, raised this long, they must give 500,000, right?”

Luo Xuan felt a pang in her stomach listening; she glanced at the young Wei Yinyin.

Wei Yinyin nodded proudly.

Luo Xuan said, “I don’t believe it. My dad gave you 30,000 yuan for confinement, yet with a son, you didn’t get a penny for five years? Without money, why would you raise the child quietly? Don’t think you can extort us! We have people who can pull bank statements. Has Luo Wenbin already paid?”

Old Wei and Old Mrs. Wei exchanged a glance and whispered in dialect.

Old Mrs. Wei said, “After the son was born, Luo Wenbin said business was tight, money tied up in goods, gave 60,000 yuan, said the rest would come with payment collection.”

Luo Xuan suddenly found it amusing.

One year delayed into two, two years dragged into three—this trick was all too familiar. Luo Wenbin’s heart was full of profit and schemes; he used this method to delay payments in business, and also cried poverty with his three daughters.

Luo Xuan said, “You believe he said he’d pay? What if he was lying?”

Old Mrs. Wei stretched her neck and said, “Our family knows Manager Wang from Luosang Factory. After the son was born, Yinyin and Luo Wenbin held a banquet in our hometown, with Manager Wang as the witness. If Luo Wenbin lied, Manager Wang wouldn’t, right?!”

Who?

Manager Wang?