Chapter 4: 003 Urban Management Youth

The young man had also noticed Fang Qingye not far off, and walked over with a smile to greet him.

"Ye Zi, off work?"

"Yeah, Dahai. You still busy?" Fang Qingye replied with a smile.

"I can't compare to you. You guys at the bank wear clean uniforms and have pretty women all around you. Not like us — a pile of messy jobs, and sometimes people point at our backs and curse." The young man called Dahai said with a sigh.

"Nonsense, you asked for it yourself! Your dad arranged a unit for you, but you wouldn't go — you just had to be an urban management officer!" Fang Qingye shot back without any politeness.

"Hehe..... I'm happy to!"

This young man Dahai, full name Song Dahai, was Fang Qingye's childhood buddy. The two had grown up together, iron buddies.

He had another identity — the second son of the so-called richest man of Nanxin, Song Qingdong.

Speaking of which, this Song Dahai was also a weirdo. His school grades were poor; he didn't even finish high school before his dad pulled strings and sent him to the army. But he refused the good postings and insisted on going to a Xinjiang field combat unit!

After a few years in the army, he was discharged and returned to the county town, where, in accordance with policy at the time, the government arranged him a job.

With his old man's connections, the Personnel Bureau, Chengjian Bureau, Water Resources Bureau — any of them were his for the picking. But he refused them all and, of all places, joined the Urban Management Brigade.

In his own words: "I'm used to the wild life. I can't sit in an office. I just like roaming around outside all day."

His dad was furious, felt he couldn't afford the embarrassment, and simply told him not to go to work. Of course, he couldn't enter the family company either — afraid he'd wreak havoc.

Just stay home, can't I, your old man, support you?!

But he actually refused, saying: "I'm young, I've got hands and feet — how could I sponge off my parents? I still want to contribute to society."

His dad heard this, nearly had a heart attack from anger, and simply threw his hands up — do whatever you want.

So Song Dahai drove that brand-new BMW X5 he'd bought not long ago to work at the Urban Management Brigade! Every day he followed his colleagues and worked quite happily. It's just that his monthly salary of 2,000 yuan wasn't even enough for his gas.....

Fang Qingye saw Song Dahai was working and didn't want to disturb him, said a couple of words and was about to leave, but was stopped by the other.

"Hey, get hotpot together after work? A new hotpot place just opened on Jinhua Road called Chongqing Courtyard, the flavor's not bad. Let's go try it, brothers? My treat!" Song Dahai said.

"Sure, I don't have anything going on tonight anyway." Fang Qingye agreed readily.

"Find two pretty girls from your branch to come along. Can that Chen Meimei make it? Invite her." Song Dahai grinned and added another request.

"Why do I have to do the inviting..... Dahai, you don't have a crush on that girl, do you?" Fang Qingye retorted.

"Nothing of the sort." Song Dahai quickly denied. "Didn't I say it before — your bank has plenty of pretty girls. That Chen Meimei is especially pretty. Not like our Urban Management Brigade — mostly big rough men, and the few women there are dinosaurs."

"Chen Meimei probably can't make it. She's been seconded to help an investigation team sent down from the city." Fang Qingye told it straight.

"City investigation team — is it investigating the Tenglong Industrial deposit theft case?" Song Dahai asked in a lowered voice.

This time it was Fang Qingye's turn to be surprised.

"This matter actually reached your ears?"

"Heh.... Nanxin is such a tiny place, any little ripple gets spread across the whole town, right?" Song Dahai wore an expression that said "you're making a fuss over nothing, you've never seen the world."

"My dad mentioned it last night. After hearing the news, he quickly called the company's CFO to check whether their own company's accounts had any issues. Twenty million — after all, it's no small sum."

"That's true....." Fang Qingye nodded.

"How do you think this happened? Could there be a mole inside your bank?" Song Dahai put on a Sherlock Holmes detective face.

"Hey, don't talk nonsense, can't you see they're investigating right now?" Fang Qingye retorted, annoyed.

"Fine, I won't say more. I've got work to do..... You go find a seat first, I'll come over after work. Don't forget."

Seeing Song Dahai about to leave, Fang Qingye hurriedly asked: "Invite Liu Dong?"

"He's been busy as a top lately, writing stuff day and night. Probably doesn't have the time."

Fang Qingye was surprised: "He's a cadre at the Aging Committee — where does he have so much material to write? Is he reading it to those old men and women?"

"Didn't you know? He was just seconded to the County Propaganda Department last week, busy writing news publicity drafts."

So that's how it was!

Song Dahai tossed back a reply and took off, shouting at the old man selling strawberries: "Old man, I'm done arguing with you. You said strawberries don't sell well elsewhere, right? Fine, I'll buy all these strawberries! Take the money and get home! Clear out this spot!"

Saying that, he pulled out his money clip from his pocket.

Holy crap.....

Truly a rich guy.

Fang Qingye sighed, then rode off on his little step-through scooter.

Liu Dong was another buddy of his.

Unlike Song Dahai, who was in the same class since elementary school, Liu Dong's family was in the countryside. He only transferred to the county town for middle school, where he became Song Dahai's deskmate. The three of them grew close.

He got into Jin Ling Normal University in the college entrance exam. Originally he wanted to be a teacher, but later he sat the civil service exam and entered the County Civil Affairs Bureau, only to be assigned to its subordinate unit, the Aging Committee.

That was a very quiet unit, idle all day with nothing to do. Liu Dong joked that he'd spend his whole life dealing with old men and women.

Liu Dong was the type of literary youth with a romantic streak. He liked to write and had real talent. In his spare time he submitted pieces to the Jinghai Daily, and several of his articles had been published in the paper. Presumably this caught the attention of the Propaganda Department leaders, who drafted him to write news publicity pieces.

Of course, staying at the Propaganda Department had a much brighter future than the Aging Committee.

When he got home, neither his mom nor his dad was back.

His dad, Fang Jianwen, was probably at some social engagement.

Although Chengguan Middle School was only a junior high, it was a long-established one in Nanxin County town, with very high teaching quality, and the top choice for parents of students moving from elementary to junior high.

Although these days there were explicit rules forbidding elementary and junior high schools from setting up key classes, in order to boost enrollment rates, every locality would, as if by unspoken agreement, concentrate the best teachers of each subject into a few classes — not key classes in name, but just as good in practice.

And Chengguan Middle School had two such classes in every grade, naturally making parents flock to them.

How to get into a key class?

Principal Fang Jianwen played the decisive role.

So Fang Jianwen usually had a lot of social engagements, especially during the critical annual period when students moved from elementary to junior high. The phone would ring nonstop all day, with people pulling strings and calling in favors in an endless stream. Fang Qingye remembered that every August during summer break, his dad would take his mom and, under the guise of travel, flee out of town for a while.

No choice — too many people asking, and the two classes only had a little over a hundred slots. They couldn't give them all to people with connections, could they?

So his dad often didn't eat at home, and Fang Qingye was long used to it.

His mom, Zhang Meili, was an ordinary elementary school teacher, so naturally she had few social engagements. But these days, besides teaching, teachers had to attend all kinds of training, meetings, and Party-building activities, so she also didn't get home until past six.

Fang Qing had already gotten used to it.

Back in his bedroom, he took off the bank uniform, changed into a jacket and jeans, put on sneakers, left a note on the coffee table in the living room telling his mom he wouldn't be home for dinner, then went downstairs, hopped on his little scooter, and headed straight for Jinhua Road.

Sure enough, he found a hotpot place called "Chongqing Courtyard." The décor was quite upscale, it had just opened not long ago and dishes were at 88% of the regular price, so today there were still quite a few people.

The two of them didn't need a private room; Fang Qing found an empty seat in the main hall, ordered a mandarin-duck pot, picked a few dishes, brewed a pot of tea, and waited for Song Dahai to arrive.

A few minutes past six, Fang Qing saw through the window a white BMW speeding over and stopping at the hotpot shop's entrance. Song Dahai got out, still wearing his full urban-management uniform, and carrying a plastic bag in his hand.

Seeing the other man enter, Fang Qing waved him over. Song Dahai walked over, plopped down across from him, and set the plastic bag on the table.

Inside were actually strawberries.