Chapter 2 — The Scam

"I don't have it either. What are we supposed to do about that..." the pockmarked man said with a miserable frown. "Just look at me. Do I look like a man who could come up with thirty thousand yuan?"

"Teacher, please think of something for us. Neither of us brought that much money," the pockmarked man appealed once more to the bespectacled man for help.

The bespectacled man pondered for a moment, then ventured tentatively, "How about this? I will give each of you thirty thousand yuan, you give me the pull-tab, and I will go claim the prize?"

The pockmarked man and the buzz-cut man exchanged a look. Since each of them could still pocket thirty thousand that way, they agreed at once. "Fine, let's do it like that."

A flash of secret delight crossed the bespectacled man's face. He pulled his briefcase toward him and began rummaging for money. At first he still looked pleased, but as his hands rifled faster through the bag, his expression grew uglier and uglier, beads of sweat seeping from his forehead, until at last he sighed in dismay. "This is bad. I did not bring much money when I left home today. I have only thirty thousand here, and you two would surely never sell for that. To watch money already in hand just vanish like this, what rotten luck."

"Ah?" Both the pockmarked man and the buzz-cut man were dumbfounded. The bespectacled man had no money, and neither did they, so how was this prize to be divided? The pockmarked man could not sit still any longer. "Teacher, you are learned, you are educated. Think of another way for us..."

"Well, how about this, let us ask someone else..." As he spoke, the bespectacled man turned his face toward Wei Zhao, who sat to one side. "Young brother, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get rich. Do you have any money? Pay each of them thirty thousand first, then take the pull-tab to claim the prize yourself, and you will make twenty thousand in one stroke. Is there any road to money faster than this? If I had brought the cash, I would have kept this fine thing for myself..."

Until then, Wei Zhao had been watching the three men put on their play with cold eyes. It was obvious enough that all three were in league together, with the pockmarked man playing one part, the buzz-cut man playing another, and the bespectacled man acting as the plant.

Though Wei Zhao had grown up in the mountains, he was no fool. Never mind his country clothes. When it came to learning, few men were his match, let alone three third-rate swindlers like these.

"Me?" Wei Zhao pointed at himself with a look of great surprise, then asked, "Can I do it?"

"You can. This fine thing has now fallen right upon your head." Hearing Wei Zhao ask if he could, rather than saying he had no money either, the bespectacled man was overjoyed at once. He knew from experience that men who talked like that were eight times out of ten carrying the goods in their bags.

Wei Zhao was about to say more when he felt someone kick his leg. Out of the corner of his eye he glanced to his right. There sat a very beautiful girl, about his own age.

Her hair flowed like water and her skin was fair. Though she had never stood up, by Wei Zhao's visual measure the girl was at least about one meter sixty-five, tall and slender by any reckoning.

Ever since boarding the train she had been quietly listening to her MP3. Wei Zhao had wanted to strike up a conversation to pass the time on the road, but with her earphones always in, the young lady had left him no opening to try.

And now the girl was looking at Wei Zhao with anxious eyes, wanting to say something yet holding back out of caution. She could only signal to him with her eyes.

Wei Zhao understood her meaning at once. She was telling him not to be cheated. A warmth rose in his heart on the spot. Did people not say that folks in the big city were all cold-hearted, minding only their own business when it did not concern them? That this girl would warn him proved she had a kind heart.

In that instant the girl gained several more points in Wei Zhao's estimation. That a girl was pretty mattered, of course, but if her heart were vicious, then no amount of beauty would be of any use. That was Wei Zhao's standard for judging girls.

"Cough, cough." The buzz-cut man sitting opposite the girl seemed to notice what she was doing, and at once broke into loud coughing, shooting her a vicious glare. Frightened pale, the girl lowered her head.

Naturally such small maneuvers could not escape Wei Zhao's eyes. But Wei Zhao was bored stiff on this journey, and after leaving home with a bellyful of anger at the old man and nowhere to vent it, here were several fools delivering themselves to his door. How could he miss this chance to toy with them?

The girl kept her head down, yet she went on nudging Wei Zhao with her foot to warn him. Wei Zhao, however, seemed to feel nothing at all, utterly unmoved.

"I have only forty-nine thousand here, not that much," Wei Zhao said truthfully, putting on the air of an honest simpleton.

Hearing that Wei Zhao had forty-nine thousand, brilliant light shot from the eyes of the pockmarked man and the buzz-cut man across from him, though their faces still wore the same bitter-melon look. "Only forty-nine thousand? Is that not a little short? How much could each of us get then?"

"Forty-nine thousand divided by two makes twenty-four thousand five hundred..." the buzz-cut man calculated aloud.

"Twenty-four thousand five hundred? That is not bad at all. I agree. What about you?" Hearing this, the pockmarked man nodded hastily.

"All right. Since you agree, then I agree too." The buzz-cut man nodded. "Hand over the money."

Wei Zhao opened his backpack and took out a small parcel wrapped in newspaper. He unwrapped it layer by layer, revealing five neatly bound stacks of banknotes inside.

"This is forty-nine thousand. This is all I have... Count it if you like," Wei Zhao said plainly. "Give me the pull-tab."

This money was the living allowance Old Man Wei had given Wei Zhao for the years to come. In recent years Wei Zhao had earned the old man no small sum. Take that assassination job in North Africa last time, for instance. By international custom the reward should have been at least several hundred thousand, should it not?

Yet when he was about to leave, the old man had rummaged through chests and cabinets and dug out these forty-nine thousand yuan from a tattered bag, claiming it was every last coin in the household and telling him to spend it sparingly.

That left Wei Zhao deeply depressed. Did the old man truly have no money, or was he only playing poor? It did not look like an act, either. The old man ate the same food as he did every day, and Wei Zhao had never seen him enjoy anything. Could it be that he had overestimated the pay for those missions all along?

"Good, good." Like hungry wolves, the pockmarked man and the buzz-cut man divided up the cash before them cleanly, then handed the pull-tab to Wei Zhao.

Wei Zhao tucked the pull-tab carefully against his person, as if terrified of losing it, handling it gingerly like some precious treasure.

Seeing the three swindlers succeed, the girl sitting beside Wei Zhao sighed helplessly. Looking at Wei Zhao's excited expression, for all the world like a man who had just won a prize, she truly did not know what to say to him.

With the money in hand, the three swindlers settled back into their earlier calm, each minding his own business as if they were strangers to one another.