◎Borrowing Money◎

December 30th. Saturday.

The new year was nearly here, and that day the English Corner was nearly empty. If he hadn’t been waiting for Gu Qiao, Xiao Jia wouldn’t have come either — he would have gone with his friends to skate on Shichahai Lake. The first thing Gu Qiao said to Xiao Jia that day was in Chinese. She asked whether she could borrow five hundred yuan from him, and promised she’d return it the following day.

Gu Qiao had recently made a new discovery — if she wanted to get into wholesale trade, knowing Russian was sometimes more useful than knowing English. That Monday she had tracked down a classroom where Russian language classes were held, waited outside until the students came out, and intercepted one of the female students to ask whether she’d be willing to write a short advertisement in Russian for a fee. From then on, a signboard in three languages — Chinese, Russian, and English — stood in front of Gu Qiao’s stall. Though she mainly sold pigskin gloves, the sign announced retail and wholesale of all kinds of gloves, with her pager number included. She replaced her regular English conversation practice book with a crash course in Russian.

At noon that day, her pager had gone off. She found a payphone and called back — it was Proprietor Zhai, the same one who had bought her leather gloves before. He asked how many pairs of gloves she had available. Gu Qiao guessed he had secured another large deal. Rather than saying how many she had, she asked him how many he wanted. She hadn’t even stopped to think about how much money she had, how much stock she could buy, or when she’d have time to restock — she simply took a bold breath and told him: however many he wanted, she could get them. But the price would need to go up a bit — gloves were in short supply in the winter, and the wholesale price had risen. Proprietor Zhai didn’t bargain. He said he needed twelve hundred pairs of pigskin gloves, and he needed them by five o’clock the following afternoon. Without a moment’s hesitation, Gu Qiao went straight out the door, flagged down a taxi, rode to her temporary storage unit, loaded the goods, and rushed to Proprietor Zhai’s counter.

One glance told Proprietor Zhai the gloves were nowhere near the number Gu Qiao had promised: “This little? What good is this? Didn’t you say you had twelve hundred?”

“Don’t worry — you’ll have them by five o’clock tomorrow afternoon. We’ll settle up then — goods and payment at the same time.”

“If you can’t deliver, where do I go to find you? Looking at your age, you don’t have much of a filter on that mouth of yours either.” He must have been out of his mind to trust this little girl. Earlier, someone had come by with three hundred high-grade pigskin gloves at a higher price, and he’d turned them away — only to end up with less from this girl than that. He had originally arranged a deal with a local glove factory — five thousand units ready by the due date — but they had backed out at the last minute, piling on excuses, claiming the order was too rushed and there was no way to deliver that fast. If everyone could deliver on time, why would the foreigners pay him a premium? The freight had already been booked — the gloves were supposed to go out the next evening, bundled with a shipment of clothing. If he couldn’t produce the goods now, he wouldn’t owe anything in penalties. But if he lost his credibility this time, who would do business with him in the future? And this transaction was not a small one.

Gu Qiao counted out the money Proprietor Zhai had just settled with her: “I will definitely deliver on time. Who wouldn’t want to make money?”

Gu Qiao then produced a sheet of paper — a contract she had drafted. She had previously borrowed a comprehensive contract reference book from the library and copied out several templates relevant to her needs. She had even been considering whether to pay someone from the Russian or English departments to write her a foreign-language version, just in case. Now it seemed that would definitely be worthwhile — who knew, one day she might actually land a deal with foreigners. She had been in the taxi and drafted the contract based on her earlier template, incorporating the actual price and agreed delivery time.

“Proprietor Zhai, this is a contract I’ve drawn up. If I fail to deliver the goods, I’ll pay you a penalty. But you have to guarantee that when the time comes, whatever quantity of gloves I bring — whether you’ve managed to source from elsewhere or not — you will accept them at the price stated in the contract. If you refuse my goods at that point, you’ll owe me a penalty too.” It wasn’t only Proprietor Zhai who was worried about her — she was worried about him too. She couldn’t risk spending every last cent she had on gloves, only to find that Proprietor Zhai had sourced from elsewhere in the meantime and refused hers, or deliberately picked fault to push the price down. He still had plenty of time before five o’clock tomorrow to find gloves elsewhere. Unsold gloves wouldn’t be hard to move eventually, but the taxi fares back and forth and the cost of the trip to restock were all expenses — she couldn’t afford to do it all for nothing.

“A contract? I don’t even know where to find you. If you run off, where do I look?” Proprietor Zhai thought the girl had some nerve — but none of that mattered. What mattered was whether she could deliver the goods. He couldn’t stake everything on this girl. He had a counter — everyone around knew where he lived. Gu Qiao could find him at any time. But this girl was a travelling street vendor. If she cheated him, he had no way to pursue her.

“This is a long-term business for me too. With a client as significant as you, if I lose your trust, who’s left to earn money from?” Gu Qiao unstrapped the digital watch from her wrist. “This watch is my collateral. If the goods don’t arrive tomorrow, the watch is yours. And if you refuse my delivery and won’t pay me the penalty, I’ll make sure everyone in this district knows about it. But I trust that Proprietor Zhai is not that kind of person.” She even demonstrated to him how the watch measured pulse. In truth, she’d have liked to ask Proprietor Zhai for an advance — she was still a little short on funds to restock. But since this was their first transaction, and she had no fixed location, it would be impossible to put him at ease — pressing for a deposit would only make her look like a con artist. She’d take the small loss for now.

Proprietor Zhai looked at the digital watch. It was worth something, at least — nowhere near his potential losses, but it demonstrated sincerity.

Gu Qiao added her collateral item to the contract. Both parties signed. The penalty amounts were agreed upon. Not quite satisfied, Gu Qiao produced an ink pad from her bag, and they each pressed their fingerprints to the document. The contract was made in duplicate — one copy for each.

“By five o’clock tomorrow, I’ll come to your counter. Goods and payment at the same time.”

Gu Qiao had wanted to take a taxi to the station to buy her ticket, but after waiting five minutes with none appearing, she gritted her teeth and boarded a Xiali cab instead. All the way there, she was doing calculations — the cost of sourcing the gloves, she was still at least five hundred short. If only that lottery ticket had been hers. She got to the station and bought a ticket on the overnight direct train to Xinji — the timing was just right. By this hour, the family would all be asleep. She could tell her aunt she’d left early the next morning. Once she’d bought the ticket, she took another taxi back to school to finish her shift.

That afternoon, Gu Qiao’s attention wandered — something that almost never happened. Where could she borrow five hundred yuan? She went through the list of people she might ask, crossing them off one by one, until she landed on Xiao Jia.

Xiao Jia didn’t even ask why Gu Qiao needed the money. He simply said yes, and told her to wait while he went home to get it. Then he reconsidered: “Why don’t you come with me? My parents have been wanting to meet you.” He had told his family about the lottery ticket Gu Qiao had given him, and both his parents had urged him to give the money back to her — after all, the girl was working hard for every cent. But Xiao Jia felt that forcing the money on her would make her feel he was looking down on her. Now that Gu Qiao genuinely needed it, he could return it properly.

“Oh?”

“I told my parents about you. They both think very highly of you.”

Gu Qiao felt a little awkward. His parents thought highly of her — probably because of the lottery ticket. And here she was, not even a week later, coming to borrow the money back.

Worried Xiao Jia might misunderstand, Gu Qiao proactively explained why she was borrowing the money and reassured him: “I’ll definitely return it to you tomorrow.”

Turning to Xiao Jia for this loan was entirely a last resort for Gu Qiao — she genuinely had no one else. If she asked her cousin, he would probably lend it to her — but she didn’t want to borrow from him.

“You’re taking an overnight train alone to restock? Why don’t I come with you? I’d like to see how it all works.”

Gu Qiao had become very practiced at this particular lie: “Someone’s coming with me.” If Xiao Jia came along, she’d have to worry not only about her own money but about him as well. He was far too trusting of everyone — he wasn’t suited to riding deep-night trains or going into wholesale markets. But this did nothing to diminish Gu Qiao’s goodwill toward him. If he had been a cautious, guarded person, he would never have lent her money so readily. His weakness was also his strength. And in front of him, Gu Qiao felt extremely capable, which made her appreciate herself all the more.

“Is five hundred enough? If not, I can borrow more from my family.”

“More than enough!”

Gu Qiao cycled alongside Xiao Jia to his apartment building. He politely suggested: “You’re taking the overnight train — it’s still early. Come upstairs and rest for a bit.”

“No, I’ll wait for you downstairs.” His parents had just formed a positive impression of her, and now here she was borrowing money — she had no idea what they’d think. But once the deal went through and the money came in, everything would be fine.

—

Zhou Zan had come to visit Xiao Jia’s father, but he arrived to find Gu Qiao and Xiao Jia talking downstairs.

“Uncle Zhou!” Xiao Jia had always been fond of Zhou Zan — and not merely because Zhou Zan frequently praised him in front of his parents. For a period, Xiao Jia had been troubled by his own poor social skills, but Zhou Zan had told him there was no need to worry. Being overly socialized didn’t mean being mature — on the contrary, it was often a sign of mediocrity. Gifted people tended to feel out of place in their early years; he should pursue what he loved rather than strain himself to conform to the ordinary. Xiao Jia had been a little embarrassed by the praise — he knew where his abilities lay, but he didn’t feel he had any particular connection to genius. Still, being praised, especially by someone he respected, was never a bad thing.

His whole family was glad to associate with Zhou Zan — even his father, a scientist with deep-seated skepticism of “men of letters,” found Zhou Zan a person of considerable distinction.

Hearing Xiao Jia call out “Uncle Zhou,” Gu Qiao naturally let her gaze drift over. By the time she thought to look away, it was already too late — she had no choice but to steel herself and call out as well: “Uncle Zhou.”

Xiao Jia was puzzled. Gu Qiao actually knew Zhou Zan. Thinking of Zhou Zhining at the English Corner, he guessed it was probably Zhou Zhining who had introduced Gu Qiao to the Zhou family.

Zhou Zan, seeing these two young people talking outside rather than going upstairs, assumed they had something private to discuss and asked nothing. He gave them both a smile and went inside.

Xiao Jia was about to follow Zhou Zan upstairs to get the money, when Gu Qiao stopped him: “Xiao Jia, there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

Gu Qiao lowered her voice: “Could you not mention the loan to your family just yet? I’ll repay you tomorrow. If Uncle Zhou asks about me, just say we met at the English Corner — don’t bring up the stall. That’s a long story; I’ll explain another time. And when you come back down, bring a book for me — tell them I borrowed a book from you.”

If Zhou Zan found out, her aunt would find out too. She didn’t think Zhou Zan had any particular reason to mention it, but just to be safe.

“No problem.” Xiao Jia was curious, but he could see Gu Qiao was in a hurry for the money — so he bounded up the stairs.

He ran up, grabbed the money and a book, and dashed back out of the apartment. His mother called after him with a smile: “What’s the rush?”

“Gu Qiao’s borrowing a book.”

“Why didn’t you invite her up?”

“She has other things to do.”

Beyond the five hundred yuan, Xiao Jia also brought Gu Qiao the remaining fifty yuan of his monthly allowance.

He said, a little sheepishly: “This is all the money I have for now. I’m sorry I can’t help more.”

Gu Qiao looked at the extra fifty yuan, and again promised: “I will definitely return it tomorrow. What’s your pager number?”

“Take it — I don’t need it right now. I don’t have a pager. If you want to reach me, you can call my home number.” Xiao Jia recited a phone number. He was interested in all electronic devices, but after disassembling his father’s pager once and finding it straightforward, he had temporarily lost interest. And since his social circle was small, people could just call the landline.

“Then I’ll come by at this time tomorrow to return the money.” Gu Qiao had already written out a receipt before she came. Now she added the fifty yuan to it, and once it was done, she solemnly handed the receipt to Xiao Jia.

“There’s really no need to be in such a rush.” Xiao Jia thought of Gu Qiao taking the overnight train in the small hours, knowing she would need extra rest the next day. “Do you have any plans for New Year’s Day?”

“For New Year’s Day, I’m planning to go to the art gallery.” Luo Peiyin had invited her to the gallery before, but she’d refused. He had told her that since she wanted to build a clothing business, cultivating a sense of aesthetics was important, and she should visit a gallery when she had the chance. He had even given her two art books — not the kind focused on classical aesthetics, but the most fashionable aesthetic of American commercial culture: Pop minimalism and the increasingly popular street art and graffiti that had found its way into all kinds of industrial products and clothing. Gu Qiao felt Luo Peiyin’s reasoning was entirely sound and genuinely meant for her benefit. But that was something to think about once her business had grown. Foreign trends still needed time to permeate domestically — she couldn’t control the pace of that. At her current stage, what she needed wasn’t gallery visits to refine her taste but more time in department stores observing what sold best. Her cousin understood many things she didn’t, but when it came to street markets and selling goods, he was not her equal. But now that the deal was done, she’d have some free time before the winter break — and it wasn’t a bad idea to get out and learn a few things.

“I’m going too. What if we meet at the gallery at nine o’clock?”

“Perfect!” She could return the money then, and it would be nice to have someone to talk with.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“No need! Goodbye!” Xiao Jia still didn’t know where she lived — last time, she had told him she was almost home halfway through the journey and sent him back. It wasn’t that she worried about him knowing where she lived — she trusted him entirely in that regard. She simply felt that if one of them was going to walk the other home, it was more fitting for her to walk Xiao Jia home.

Gu Qiao pedalled away at full speed and quickly vanished from Xiao Jia’s sight.

Xiao Jia went back upstairs. His father and Zhou Zan were discussing the young people of today and had casually brought up Gu Qiao — because of Xiao Jia’s accounts, both his parents had formed a good impression of her. Eighteen years old and already selling goods at a market stall, yet not a swindler; honest — she gave the lottery ticket to Xiao Jia and kept her word; and she loved to learn.

Selling at a market stall? Gu Jinghui, whatever else she might do, surely wouldn’t let her niece go and sell goods at a street stall. And if the girl was doing that, her family circumstances could not be very comfortable. Zhou Zan did not mention his own acquaintance with Gu Qiao to his old friend. He found himself thinking of the look on Gu Qiao’s face when she greeted him — her voice had been as bright and clear as ever, yet there had been a brief flicker of evasiveness. Working this hard — her mother likely didn’t know.

Not long after Xiao Jia got home, the phone rang. It was Zhao Yue, calling to tell Xiao Jia to come downstairs — his car was parked outside.

Coming back from the ice rink that night, Luo Peiyin was uneasy about Zhao Yue’s skill on icy roads and had taken over the driver’s seat. With his hands free, Zhao Yue’s mouth was even freer. He grinned at Xiao Jia: “You hit the jackpot this time — tomorrow you’re treating us. I’ll tell you, unexpected windfalls like this need to be spent right away to be satisfying.” He turned to Luo Peiyin with the same grin: “This time you’d better not stop Xiao Jia from picking up the tab — give the kid a chance.”

Xiao Jia was trying to figure out how to explain that he didn’t actually have much money for treating anyone. He’d been getting by at the start of the month. By the end of the month, with very little left and fifty yuan gone to Gu Qiao, he could perhaps stretch to the canteen for this many people, and that was about it.

“Why didn’t you ask that girl along? Lin Cheng’s girlfriend insisted on coming with him — if you’d brought yours, Lin Cheng wouldn’t have felt so awkward.”

“She and I are not that kind of relationship at all.” Xiao Jia had plenty of things to say in response, but he knew Zhao Yue well enough — unless Luo Peiyin told him to close his mouth, the clever remarks would not stop.

“Then you’re moving way too slowly. I think that girl is great — she’s a good influence on you, and she’s generous. She sends you five hundred yuan just like that. I’ve bought loads of lottery tickets myself and the most I’ve ever won is five yuan.” He sighed. “Besides my mum and my grandmother, there is not a single woman who would give me five hundred yuan for nothing! Never mind me — take your Brother Luo here, hugely popular with a great many young ladies, and yet when you get down to it, all that amounts to is rather more opportunities to treat pretty girls to dancing, drinks, and dinners. Has any young girl ever turned around and treated your Brother Luo? Not many — let alone actually giving money. You’re the lucky one, little brother. But luck should be shared. If you’re treating tomorrow, I’m not holding back.”

“Save it. Tomorrow you’re treating.”

Zhao Yue heard this from Luo Peiyin and made a noise of complaint: “That’s a bit much, isn’t it? Even if you’re stopping Xiao Jia from treating — it should be you treating. Compared to you, I’m barely scraping by.”

Xiao Jia appeared to have tuned out everything Zhao Yue had said and responded only to what Zhao Yue had said earlier: “I can’t spend that five hundred — she needs it more than I do. I have to give it back to her.”

Zhao Yue laughed: “I didn’t think I’d live to see this kind of story in the nineteen-nineties.”

“Today she borrowed five hundred from me for restocking. I expect when we meet at the gallery the day after tomorrow, she’ll return it. How should I handle it so she can accept the money back without feeling uncomfortable?”

—