Jade retrieved the new shirt and trousers she'd had made for him. On impulse, while buying underwear for herself, she'd picked up two pairs for him too. The underwear and shirt were washed and clean; the trousers hadn't been, but that didn't matter – she wasn't wearing them. She folded the clothes neatly on a stool and placed it just inside the bedroom doorway. "Clothes are here," she called out, keeping her eyes averted as she retreated back into the room.
Nigel washed quickly. By the time Jade settled back into bed, he was stepping out of the tub. His short hair even allowed him a quick head wash. Drying off, he went to grab the clothes. He'd expected something of his father's or grandfather's – he wasn't superstitious about the dead. But lifting the garments, he found unfamiliar, new clothes: a pale blue shirt, slate grey trousers, and even underwear. He realized Jade must have bought them after he left. He hadn't thought much when buying her clothes in the city; he'd just done it. Seeing she'd done the same for him, a sudden warmth bloomed in his chest. The unfamiliar sensation lingered, unsettling but not unpleasant. He ran his fingers over the fabric. Suddenly, he understood her earlier comment about "saving" clothes. He felt a similar reluctance. He pressed his lips together, taking a moment before finally pulling them on.
Feeling the new clothes, his movements became stiff as he carried the tub outside to empty it, carefully avoiding splashes that might stain. When he returned to the bedroom, Jade was nearly asleep.
A red object landed heavily beside her head, jolting her awake.
She flinched, glaring up at him irritably. "What are you doing?"
He seemed oblivious to her mood, chuckling softly. "Open it."
Jade wasn't interested. She closed her eyes and rolled over.
Standing beside the bed, Nigel registered her reaction, belatedly realizing he'd annoyed her. He rubbed his nose awkwardly, unable to voice an apology. After a pause, he sat on the edge of the bed, rolling up a pant leg, his tone deliberately casual. "You asked where the money came from."
Jade, awake now despite her annoyance, couldn't ignore this. She frowned, turning her head to look.
As if sensing her gaze, he glanced back, meeting her eyes with feigned indifference. "Don't want to know? Fine." He reached for the red bundle beside her head.
Jade rolled back instantly. "What do you mean?"
He was quick, already holding the bundle. Jade saw writing on the red fabric. If she wasn't mistaken, it looked like a commendation banner.
Her eyes widened. Had she misread it? She pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes. As he made to leave, she blurted, "Let me see!"
He pretended not to hear, starting to rise.
Exasperated, Jade grabbed his shirt hem, yanking hard enough to stop him. He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow innocently. "Yes?"
"…" Definitely intentional. Jade ignored him, sitting up fully and snatching the bundle from his hand. He offered no resistance, settling back down as she took it.
Jade didn't open it immediately. She flipped it over, reading the gold characters embroidered on the red silk: "Wisdom and Valor, A Model for the People." The inscription was from the W City Public Security Bureau, dated September 20, 1998 – just days ago.
She looked up at him, astonished. "This is yours?" Her earlier suspicion solidified.
He seemed dismissive of the banner, urging again, "Look inside."
Jade glanced at him, then carefully unfolded the silk. The banner itself was the initial surprise; finding it wrapped around a thick wad of cash was less shocking, though still impressive. "That's a lot of money!" she murmured. She poured the cash onto the bed, carefully smoothing out the crumpled banner and folding it neatly. She looked up uncertainly. "This banner is yours, right?"
Nigel seemed taken aback by her priorities. He stared at her for a long moment before finally asking, his expression odd, "Is that important?"
Jade thought the question absurd. Important? Officer Chen back at her precinct had gotten a banner for a rescue; he'd beamed for a month. The station had publicized it widely, even making the morning news. Chen had framed it proudly in his living room. Everyone was envious. The money? Honestly, Jade wasn't overly impressed. Her family wasn't wealthy, but she'd never lacked for anything. Her successful brother and sister-in-law often gave her spending money. She gave him a look that plainly said, Are you serious? Seeing his indifference, a new fear struck her. "Did you steal this?" Her imagination ran wild – had he snatched both cash and banner from someone on the train?
Nigel gave her a cold look. She must be pregnancy-addled. If he stole, he wouldn't keep the banner. He understood now: to her, the pile of cash paled in significance to this piece of cloth. Seeing her genuine fear as she grabbed his wrist – "You really did that? You have to turn yourself in!" – he had no words.
"…" Wordlessly, he grabbed the pillowcase from the pillow, scooped up the scattered bills, knotted the bundle, and tossed it carelessly onto the nearby table. Jade's attitude seemed to infect him; the money suddenly felt less precious. He snapped off the light and flopped down, pulling the quilt over his head as Jade kept badgering him about turning himself in. Finally, annoyed, he snapped from under the covers, "Steal? I don't do that!" He burrowed deeper.
Jade, half-convinced, half-skeptical, lay down too, carefully placing the folded banner on the inner side of the bed for safekeeping. Still uneasy, she scooted closer. "Then where did all that money come from?" She knew his past self got a reward for exposing the pyramid scheme, but not this much. The sheer amount felt wrong.
No matter how she prodded, Nigel pretended to be asleep.
Frustrated, Jade shoved his shoulder and turned away.
A muffled chuckle came from beneath the quilt.
---
The next morning, however, Nigel gave her the truth. The banner was real. The money's origin was… murkier. He didn't hide it, outlining their ordeal:
They'd been scammed from the start. Chuck Zhu's cousin, who'd gone to work on the coast two years prior, had been sucked into a pyramid scheme. As the operation grew, they'd expanded inland, sending cells to other cities. The cousin was part of one such cell in the neighboring city, a low-level member. The scheme's rule was simple: recruit or suffer. Fail to bring in money (or new recruits), and punishment followed – withheld food, beatings. Only the ringleaders profited. Desperate members often targeted family, spinning tales of easy money to lure them in with their savings. Upon arrival, the newcomers were jumped, robbed, locked in dark rooms, starved, and subjected to relentless brainwashing until they "joined."
Chuck, trusting his cousin, had swallowed the story. When they arrived, a group attacked – primarily targeting Nigel, as the cousin wouldn't let his own kin be beaten. But the robbery and starvation tactics applied equally.
Nigel, naturally, didn't take a beating lying down. He fought back with brutal efficiency. Despite being outnumbered, his street-fighting experience turned the tables. He focused on one attacker, beating him bloody until unconscious. The sight terrified the others, fearing murder. Suddenly, Nigel became their prime target for recruitment – the only way to prevent him from dismantling their operation.
Nigel played it cool. Realizing escape wasn't an option yet, he pretended to agree. But he planned to leave – and make them pay. He recruited two disillusioned members as allies. Then, secretly, he contacted the local police. Together, they raided and dismantled the entire cell. He hadn't recruited the two men for nothing. Before the police arrived, the trio located the gang's stash of stolen money, pried it open, and took a significant cut for themselves. Any discrepancy could be blamed on the fleeing leaders. The promise of escape and a hefty payoff secured their loyalty. They kept the theft secret.
At the station, the trio were briefly detained with the others – a prearranged precaution against retaliation. Since Nigel and his allies hadn't recruited anyone themselves, they were released after giving statements. Before leaving, they received the commendation banners and official rewards in a meeting room, shaking hands with officials.
Afterwards, they slipped back to the abandoned hideout, retrieved the money they'd buried near the latrine, and went their separate ways.
Chuck had it rougher. His familial link to the cousin meant longer questioning. Nigel waited a few days for him but kept his own actions secret, knowing Chuck couldn't keep a secret. The money, naturally, wasn't shared.
Nigel proved his cunning extended beyond W City. His looks and quick mind had impressed the local cell leaders; they'd earmarked him as potential leadership material. They'd even offered travel funds and expenses for him to "train" at the scheme's coastal headquarters in G Province – part of the grand illusion dangled before low-level recruits. Before that illusion could solidify, however, Nigel had already gleaned the identities, routines, and haunts of the top bosses in G Province, feeding this crucial intel to the authorities before the raid on the main headquarters.
Listening to his account, Jade didn't know how to react. The case files had summarized his actions in a few lines; the reality was far more complex and perilous. The image of him fighting off a dozen men, then calmly infiltrating the scheme's upper echelons, was staggering. But the money troubled her deeply. Had it been a small sum, she might have overlooked it. But a quick count of the bundle she'd dumped on the bed yesterday revealed 9,746 yuan – a small fortune. Jade was silent. She'd always been a rule-follower. Even finding 5 mao on the street meant handing it in. Once, she'd found 10 yuan; her brother tricked her into buying snacks. She'd cried all the way home. Her parents said it was fine, but she insisted her father take the "replacement" 10 yuan to the police station. Her brother got a thrashing for causing trouble. This money represented countless families' life savings.
Nigel, misreading her silence as disappointment at the amount, offered casually, "It's enough. The other two got less. There wasn't much left in the box. Had to leave some behind." Besides, the discrepancy would keep the ringleaders locked up longer. He wasn't one to let an offense slide.
Jade knew he misunderstood. His upbringing was worlds apart from hers. He was bold, ruthless, his moral compass less defined. To him, this money was hard-earned spoils, taken without guilt. To an ordinary person, it would be terrifying, morally fraught. She'd always known he was complex from the files: he wouldn't actively prey on the weak or commit outright crimes, but he tolerated the gray areas, turning a blind eye. His choice to avenge his daughter alone, bypassing the law, made sense in this context. An ordinary father might seek legal recourse, appeal to higher authorities. Not him. He operated by his own rules – the street's code. It was dangerous. Not necessarily he was dangerous, but his low threshold for moral compromise was. She'd studied cases of brilliant individuals who, lacking strong ethics, used their intellect for devastating crimes. Today it was ten thousand yuan. If he tasted the sweetness, next time it could be hundreds of thousands, even millions.
The thought crystallized her resolve. She looked him straight in the eye. "You have to give this money back. We can't keep it."
Nigel stared at her, certain he'd misheard. "What did you say?" he asked, disbelief etched on his face.