Chapter 20: A Shortage of Funds

The tale of the mage unfolds without interruption. Lin Jia and his group of unemployed youths were the children of workers at a steel enterprise. A large, medium-sized state-owned company could support a staggering number of people, far beyond what one might imagine. Lin Jia and his friends caught the last wave of favorable policies; when they entered vocational high school in 1997, they secured a “replacement” position in their parents’ company at the cost of their mothers’ early retirement, effectively inheriting their parents’ careers.

Thus, though Lin Jia and his peers idled at home, their parents were not overly concerned about their futures. Eventually, when older employees retired, their children would take their places as honest workers. Chinese parents have always sought to arrange their children’s lives as securely as possible. It’s little wonder these youths seemed carefree—the inertia fostered by tradition could not be undone by one or two individuals.

After sleeping for a full day and night, Lin Jia groggily dragged himself out of bed, wiped the sweat from his face, and saw that the bamboo mat bore a human-shaped damp mark. He fiddled with the electric fan, which had stopped turning at some unknown hour—damn it, the power had gone out in the middle of the night!

At his age, sleep was a craving, and after being awake for an entire day and night, Lin Jia’s slumber was deep and sweet. Not even the stifling heat after the power outage could wake him.

Though late September was no longer as unbearable as midsummer, the small city near the furnace-like Wuhan remained oppressively hot. Lin Jia took a shower, donned a clean pair of baggy shorts and a sweat shirt, and looked around the house. Not a soul was present—perhaps his father had gone to work and his mother was out shopping for groceries.

He found a bowl of hot dry noodles left by his mother on the dining table and slurped them down. Wandering around the house, he glanced at the wall-mounted digital clock displaying “2001.09.30.” Lin Jia didn’t know what to do. It was hardly eight in the morning; going out so early seemed pointless. He usually only ventured out in the afternoon.

But what could he do at home? Watch TV? The programs nowadays were so dull they made him sick.

Go back to sleep? After nearly twenty-four hours of rest, Lin Jia couldn’t fall asleep again. He wanted to go to an internet café, but had not a single cent on him. With his parents out, he couldn’t shamelessly ask for money, and he wasn’t even sure his two brothers were still “alive.”

Bored, Lin Jia sprawled on the sofa. The post-outage heat made sweat bead across his freshly showered body. He rolled restlessly on the sofa, unable to shake thoughts of the online game “Legend” he had just started playing. Though the three brothers had gained an early advantage in levels when the server opened, after sleeping for a day, he suspected that advantage was lost. The only comfort was that their gear wouldn’t fall behind anytime soon.

Thinking of his amazing equipment, Lin Jia couldn’t sit still. His heart itched as if scratched by a hundred little cats. He sprang up and muttered, “Damn it! If I don’t have money for internet, can’t I at least go to the café and watch others play?” At least the café would have air conditioning, right? With that thought, Lin Jia dashed to make a phone call, hoping to check whether his two hapless comrades were still alive.

“Beep… beep… Hello? Oh! Auntie, it’s Lin Jia! Is Hongbin there? I’m looking for him to hang out!” He covered for his friend, “Oh, ah, yes, he’s at my place playing the Sony game console. It got late, so I told him to sleep over. He didn’t tell you? Maybe he just forgot while playing! Yes, yes, we’re not getting into trouble outside, just playing basketball and surfing the net… Don’t worry, Auntie!” Lin Jia wiped sweat from his brow as he endured Hongbin’s mother’s nagging reminders.

Once Hongbin was on the line, Lin Jia lowered his voice, “Hey, did you get scolded when you got home?”

Hongbin chuckled mischievously, “No! My parents are used to it! What about you?”

Lin Jia laughed, “I’m fine too, but I have no idea about the boss… she probably wasn’t so lucky! I’ll call her in a bit. Where should we meet? Still at Longtai Café? Okay, hurry up… Wait! Do you have any money? My parents are out, and I have nothing today!”

Hongbin sighed, “I’m broke too, and don’t dare ask my old man… Forget it! I’ll try to get some from my mom, we’ll talk when we meet!”

Lin Jia hung up, then dialed the boss, Xu Fangfang’s house, anxious about how her folks would respond. He dreaded their interrogations—every time he called for her to come out, her father would examine the place, people, and events as if he were cross-examining a suspect, sometimes even scolding these “bad boys.” Maybe it was just the way things were with daughters.

“Hello?” Fortunately, it was Xu Fangfang herself. Lin Jia breathed a sigh of relief. “Boss, you coming out to play? What happened when you got home yesterday?”

She chuckled, “Nothing much! When I came home, nobody was there. Later, my parents returned and I found out my mom was working the night shift, my dad was out playing mahjong. I was the first one home! Ha!” Lin Jia was speechless—her luck was incredible.

“So, are you coming out today? Hongbin’s waiting at Longtai Café. But I’ll warn you, I don’t have a single coin, so I’ll need you guys to sponsor me!” Lin Jia laughed.

“I’ll come! I just woke up myself! We haven’t logged in all day, who knows if someone’s overtaken us. Don’t worry, I’ve still got fifty yuan!” She called out, “Wait for me at home, I’ll come pick you up!” As a girl, Xu Fangfang managed to save money better than the boys, so her stash was still healthy. Plus, her generous nature meant she often lent a hand when her friends were short on cash.

Lin Jia hung up, patting his pockets, fretting over where to find some money. Should he raid his parents’ cabinet?

He shivered—not a chance! He’d seen too many friends beaten half to death for stealing from their families. No way would he risk it. Glancing at the pen holder on his desk, Lin Jia’s eyes suddenly gleamed. He remembered that he’d often tossed spare change into the pen holder, since he had no piggy bank and didn’t like carrying coins. Over time, there should be a decent amount saved up.

Like a hungry dog pouncing on food, he grabbed the bamboo pen holder, half a foot long and as wide as a bowl, flipped it over onto the bed. A jumble of coins spilled out, mixed with a cloud of dust. He ignored the mess, crawling over to count his treasure. After a careful tally, Lin Jia found he had sixty-one one yuan coins, thirty-eight five mao coins, eleven one mao coins, and a dead fly.

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(Trouble: Second chapter today! It’s the family’s New Year’s dinner, so there might not be an update tonight! Wishing everyone a Happy New Year!)