Chapter 9: Dare to Steal My Money?
“Dad.” Wang Xia covered her face. “My face hurts so much from Brother’s hitting, I can’t cook tomorrow.”
“Wang Zhen, you’ll cook tomorrow,” Li Guifen immediately ordered.
“Mom, I’m the youngest in the family. I don’t want to cook,” Wang Zhen muttered in protest.
“Do you think you can just refuse?” Li Guifen slammed the table. “Your third sister has done a great deed, what use are you?”
Late at night, Wang Song and Li Guifen lay awake, unable to sleep from excitement.
“Old Wang, how much did that rebellious son steal from us?” Li Guifen asked.
“At least twenty yuan,” Wang Song lied casually, turning his back to Li Guifen.
All the family money was under his control, and he remembered every cent clearly—Wang Peng hadn’t stolen a penny.
But that didn’t matter. A son’s life is given by his father; while still a minor, the son’s money must suddenly be managed by the father.
“To dare steal that much money—does he still want this family to live?” Li Guifen ground her teeth. “Tomorrow we’ll catch him. He must return all the money.”
A few minutes later, she added, “Once we get the money, we’ll buy some fabric. Our pants have faded; we’ll make new clothes for the two of us.”
“Hmm,” Wang Song licked his lips. “And buy two pounds of beef. It’s been so long since we’ve eaten meat, my mouth’s gone bland.”
The rooster crowed three times, still before dawn. Wang Peng got up to brush his teeth and wash his face. He ate the last pack of instant noodles and prepared to go to the county to sell watermelons.
A small white cat leapt onto the cart, settling atop the watermelons to keep company with its owner.
Wang Peng did not wake Du Lei, sleeping in the next room; he didn’t want others to know the shortcut.
That was the broad avenue leading to the door of prosperity.
The five hundred pounds of watermelon were heavy. He walked with pauses along the way, reaching the textile factory’s residential compound around ten o’clock.
He gave two watermelons to the gatekeeper and obtained permission to sell at the gate.
The gatekeeper smiled, “Young man, the factory director doesn’t allow vendors inside. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Grandpa, I’ll just set up my stall outside the gate,” Wang Peng said, petting the cat and patiently waiting for customers.
Yesterday, Wang Xia had caught him selling watermelons here, and he’d planned to move elsewhere. But those troublesome relatives would surely come looking for him.
Thinking it over carefully, one can avoid trouble for a while, but not forever; avoid selling watermelons, but not school.
“Running away won’t solve anything. What’s meant to come will come,” Wang Peng resolved not to avoid things any longer.
In Wang Village, Wang Song pulled a cart with a bundle of hemp rope on it. Behind him followed Li Guifen and Wang Cheng.
Just thinking about Wang Peng having a hundred yuan in his pocket made them itch with greed.
Wang Cheng sneered. If the eldest brother didn’t know better, their parents would tie him up with rope and drag him home.
In any case, the money had to be handed over today.
Yesterday, he’d gone to Wang Village Middle School to play basketball. The class monitor showed off his jeans, surrounded by a crowd of girls, making him jealous.
“Opposite the residential compound is the People’s Market. If you want money, just buy some pants directly,” Wang Cheng said, staring down at his coarse cloth pants, feeling uglier by the minute.
In Du Village, Du Lei overslept and hurriedly rode his bike straight to the residential compound.
Passing Feng Village, he saw his first love, Feng Lingling, standing at her doorstep. He hesitated briefly, then rode off.
Arriving at the textile factory residence, he saw a crowd gathered at the gate. Approaching, he saw it was Wang Peng selling watermelons.
The scene was chaotic. The white cat squinted, sitting on a small stool, petted on the head and ears by two little girls.
An elderly man handed Wang Peng a few yuan and left carrying two watermelons.
“Young man, your melons are ripe, right?” a young woman with a ponytail asked.
“You can pick any; I’ll cut it open right here for you to see,” Wang Peng said, too lazy to waste words.
“Good. If it’s ripe, I’ll buy it,” the woman selected a soccer-ball-sized watermelon, “I want this one.”
With a swift stroke, Wang Peng split the watermelon in two, revealing the bright red flesh inside.
He cut the melon into pieces. “Everyone, try my melons. If they’re not sweet, you don’t have to pay.”
“Good, young man, that’s straightforward!”
“This is how business should be done. Much better attitude than the market.”
“Everyone, try it. If you like it, support this young man.”
A middle-aged man reached for the first piece, followed by many other hands. They stood by the cart eating watermelon.
After tasting, the middle-aged man happily bought two watermelons; others began choosing as well.
Du Lei squeezed into the crowd. “Brother Peng, let me help you.”
“Brother Lei, go deliver some to my sister’s place,” Wang Peng pointed to a sack full of watermelons.
Du Lei hoisted the sack, immediately struggling under the weight. The bag must have weighed at least fifty pounds.
He followed his elder sister into the compound, climbing to the fifth floor with the heavy load, gasping for breath.
His sister handed him a bowl of water, smiling, “A kid selling melons who knows business—I’ve never seen anyone deliver to the door before.”
Du Lei laughed, “He’s this year’s top scorer in the entrance exam, very clever. Sister, I’m off.”
Back at the gate, barely catching his breath, Wang Peng assigned him to deliver yet another sack of watermelons.
Du Lei: “…”
After about an hour, the customers finally thinned out. The two brothers were soaked in sweat.
“How do you feel, Brother Lei?” Wang Peng asked. “Isn’t it easier talking to strangers than you thought?”
“Hey, I was shy at first, but it got better,” Du Lei replied.
“That’s right. Speak boldly,” Wang Peng encouraged.
They exchanged smiles and opened a small watermelon to quench their thirst.
Not far off, Wang Cheng stared at Wang Peng’s waist pouch, jealousy flickering in his eyes.
“Brother, I’m your younger brother. If you earn money, you have to spend some on me,” he clenched his fists.
“Old Wang, let’s go demand the money,” Li Guifen also eyed Wang Peng’s pouch.
She had seen countless bills being stuffed in—tens, fives, twos...
Her hands began to tremble. With this money, why bother buying fabric? They could go straight to the People’s Market for dresses.
“No rush, wait a bit longer,” Wang Song sneered. “Wait until he sells all the melons.”
Meanwhile, Wang Peng had long noticed their approach and anticipated their greed.
He had never imagined they would be so avaricious, wanting to take all the money.
Just then, another group approached to buy watermelons, and the brothers continued their work.
Soon the entire cart of melons was sold. Du Lei rubbed his hands excitedly.
“Brother Lei, thanks for your hard work today. I’ll treat you to beef later,” Wang Peng smiled.
“No need. I found talking to strangers isn’t hard. Just speak normally,” Du Lei said.
Wang Peng gave him a thumbs-up. “It’s really not difficult. You’ll get used to it.”
He glanced quietly towards the alley in the distance.
“Brother Lei, my parents are waiting for me in the alley. They’ll try to take my money. Help me put on a show—I won’t let you down.”
Wang Peng unfastened his pouch and handed it over, whispering about his family troubles and their plan.
Du Lei was stunned. “Are there really such heartless parents in the world? Don’t worry—with me here, they won’t get a single cent.”
“Thanks, Brother Lei,” Wang Peng patted his shoulder and stood to say goodbye to the gatekeeper.
“Young man, come again tomorrow,” the old man beamed.
“Thank you for your kindness, Grandpa,” Wang Peng placed the white cat back on the cart. “Brother Lei, let’s go.”
The two pulled the cart toward the department store entrance when Wang Song and the others suddenly rushed out from the alley.
“Wang Peng, how dare you steal from me? Hand over the money!” Wang Song shouted furiously, his large hands reaching for Wang Peng’s face.