Chapter 5: 004 Song Dahai

Try one—the old man’s strawberries are pretty good.

“I saw you buy all the strawberries from that old man—you’re really rich,” Fang Qingye said, taking a strawberry and putting it in his mouth; it was indeed sweet.

Hearing Fang Qingye say that, Song Dahai laughed: “A basket of strawberries isn’t worth much; I didn’t bother arguing. Besides, the old man doesn’t usually sell here—he grows them himself and brings them to town; it’s not easy.”

Here, Song Dahai paused. “But if those regular vendors cause trouble, I won’t hold back—don’t underestimate them; they earn more than you do at the bank!”

“I know—the fruit vendor at the crossroads? I heard he bought apartments in both the city and the county—he’s impressive,” Fang Qingye said.

“Did you order the dishes?”

“Ordered.”

“Beer! Why isn’t the beer here? Waiter, bring a case of Dafu!” Song Dahai shouted toward the counter.

“And bring another empty plate for the strawberries!” Fang Qingye added.

The hot pot boiled quickly, and the two ate and chatted as they went.

Nansin is in central Jiangsu, where people generally can’t handle spice, but Song Dahai was an exception—he’d spent years in northwest China and his taste had changed completely; now he couldn’t eat without chili.

“Smoke?” Song Dahai pulled out a pack of Su cigarettes from his pocket again.

“You smoke. Don’t worry about me,” Fang Qingye said—he didn’t have a strong habit, only smoked a couple cigarettes now and then after drinking too much.

Song Dahai knew his habit and lit one for himself.

At that moment, a middle-aged man walked in, slicked-back hair, casual clothes, but radiating authority like a big boss.

Fang Qingye recognized him.

This man was Qian Weimin, boss of Tenglong Industries.

Qian Weimin also noticed them—he saw Song Dahai wolfing down food, walked over, and greeted with a smile: “Dahai.”

“Oh! Uncle Qian, you’re here for hot pot too?” Song Dahai put down his beer cup and stood up to greet him.

“A friend from the city got interested in this, so I came to try it,” Qian Weimin replied with a smile, then glanced at Fang Qingye.

“Eating hot pot with a friend?”

“Yeah, this is my classmate and my best buddy—Fang Qingye, son of Principal Fang from Chengguan Middle School, works at Dongfang Bank,” Song Dahai introduced.

Hearing he was from Dongfang Bank, Qian Weimin looked again at Fang Qingye and extended his right hand: “Which department are you in?”

“I just passed the exam last year—I’m still rotating. Currently in the Credit Department,” Fang Qingye answered honestly.

“Credit Department? I know your Section Chief Su well—let’s get him out for dinner sometime,” Qian Weimin said as he shook his hand.

“Thank you,” Fang Qingye knew it was just polite talk.

Asking Su Ming to dinner was plausible—but him? He wasn’t even worth inviting a boss of this caliber.

Qian Weimin said a few more words and left; Fang Qingye and Song Dahai continued eating and chatting.

“Dahai, you’re pretty close with Boss Qian—calling him ‘uncle,’” Fang Qingye teased.

“Hey, don’t get the wrong idea,” Song Dahai said immediately:

“My dad’s in real estate; Qian Weimin’s companies deal in building materials, so we have business ties. In Nansin County, there are only a few big players—we all know each other. Us kids just call them ‘uncle’—that’s all the connection.”

“No other connection?” Fang Qingye asked, suppressing a grin.

“None at all.”

“I thought you two had rekindled your old flame,” Fang Qingye chuckled.

“Rekindled? We never had anything!” Song Dahai shot back: “Yezi, don’t ever mention Qian Xiaoli’s name again—if you do, I’ll lose it!”

“Alright, alright, I won’t say it, won’t say it,” Fang Qingye held back his laugh and raised his beer to drink.

Qian Xiaoli was Qian Weimin’s daughter; she’d gone to the same elementary school as Fang Qingye and Song Dahai, but not the same class.

Actually, they hadn’t known each other before—Song Dahai was a troublemaker who liked pulling girls’ pigtails from behind, starting with girls in his own class, then expanding to neighboring classes.

Once, he got careless and pulled Qian Xiaoli’s hair—and accidentally stirred up a hornet’s nest.

Back then, Qian Xiaoli was a wild girl; rumor had it she’d even trained in martial arts with her grandfather. She grabbed a broom and chased Song Dahai around the playground for several laps, finally pinning him down, straddling him, and beating him senseless.

The whole school erupted.

It was Song Dahai’s greatest humiliation, leaving a deep shadow—he Congci avoided Qian Xiaoli at all costs.

Years passed; the boys grew up. Song Dahai became tall and sturdy; Qian Xiaoli turned into a graceful young woman, later got into Jinghai Polytechnic University, and after graduation, worked at the County Housing Provident Fund Office—a city-managed unit with excellent benefits.

Their parents considered a marriage alliance; it was said Qian Xiaoli didn’t refuse—but Song Dahai adamantly opposed it.

“I’d rather stay single my whole life than marry Qian Xiaoli! If you push me, I’ll go become a monk at Dinghui Zen Temple!”

Seeing his son so firm, the match was quietly dropped—but his story with Qian Xiaoli was still occasionally teased by friends.

Of course, the jokes had limits.

Fang Qingye dropped the subject, but Song Dahai suddenly blurted:

“You think, with 20 million vanished without a trace, why doesn’t Qian Weimin look worried at all?”

“How should he look worried? Cry and scream, beat his chest?” Fang Qingye retorted.

“At least call the police! Let the public security investigate! Your bank investigating itself? You’ll find nothing!” Song Dahai said.

“Dahai, why are you so sure it’s your bank’s fault? Maybe it’s a self-staged scam! Would he dare call the police?!” Fang Qingye snapped back.

“Huh?! You actually think that?” Song Dahai widened his eyes, stunned.

“I’m just guessing… Anyway, what’s it got to do with us? Drink!” Fang Qingye didn’t want to talk about it, but Song Dahai seemed unsatisfied.

“How isn’t it your business? You’re with Dongfang Bank, aren’t you? And your Senior Xia is your classmate—can you just watch your pretty senior suffer? If I had a pretty senior like that, I’d go all out to help her through trouble!”

Song Dahai grinned, but his expression looked distinctly lewd.

“Get lost! If you say another word, I’ll call Qian Xiaoli over—you said you don’t have a pretty girl to hang with? I think Qian Xiaoli’s pretty enough!” Fang Qingye made as if to pull out his phone.

“Alright, alright, I won’t say anything—drink, drink,” Song Dahai quickly raised his cup.

“Oh, by the way, Dahai, I need a favor from you,” Fang Qingye suddenly remembered something and said.

“What is it?”

“Lend me 200,000,” Fang Qingye said.

“For what? A car?”

“No, I’m planning to trade stocks,” Fang Qingye revealed his purpose.