022 But it depends on the opportunity

Fang Qingye fished until sunset, catching a total of eight fish: three half-foot-long silver carp, two crucian carp, and two topmouth culters. His most prized catch was a one-pound mandarin fish—a species notoriously difficult to hook—making for a fruitful day.

"Steamed for Mom tonight!"

Whistling, Fang Qingye rode his small scooter home in high spirits. He spent the evening at home reading and building mathematical models. The next afternoon, after playing some single-player Warcraft, he checked the time and headed straight for Song Dahai’s house on his scooter.

Song Dahai’s villa sat on the east side of the county, a three-story European-style structure flanked by two snarling stone lions at the gate. Song Dahai had an older brother, Song Dahua, who was over thirty and served as the vice general manager of the Kerry Real Estate parent company. He was the designated successor, though he and his family didn't live in the villa, preferring a duplex in the city. They kept a German Shepherd, which was quite fierce, but since Fang Qingye was a regular visitor, the dog merely wagged its tail and panted at him.

"Dahai, where are your parents?" Fang Qingye asked as Song Dahai opened the door.

Song Dahai grinned. "Mom went to play mahjong, and Dad isn't back yet. Want to play a few rounds of CS?"

*Counter-Strike* had been all the rage in internet cafes during the early millennium. Back then, Fang Qingye was still in high school, often sneaking out of evening study sessions with Song Dahai and Liu Dong to play networked matches at a nearby cafe. Almost every boy in the cafe played it, with a dozen people split into two rows, locked in spirited competition. The air would be filled with shouts of "Go, go!" and "Fire in the hole!" along with the intense sounds of gunfire and explosions. Though the game eventually faded as *Warcraft III* rose to prominence, Song Dahai remained a loyal fan, perhaps due to his military background. With no one to play against in the cafes now, they used the Haofang platform to find matches.

Seeing Fang Qingye, Song Dahai immediately dragged him to the computer to snipe each other on the Dust 2 map.

Fang Qingye refused. "Dahai, I’m no match for you. That’s just asking to be tortured."

"So what if you get tortured? Let me have some fun. Come on, upstairs..."

Before long, the sounds of gunfire echoed from the floor above. They only played two rounds before they heard someone calling for Song Dahai outside; his father had returned, and Fang Qingye seized the chance to log off.

Song Qingdong’s tea room was on the third floor. Fang Qingye followed him inside, where the space was furnished with classic Chinese mahogany, centered around a large tea table equipped with a full gongfu tea set.

"Xiao Ye, sit," Song Qingdong greeted with a smile.

Fang Qingye caught the scent of alcohol on him, clearly from a business dinner that had just ended. He sat on a mahogany chair, and Song Dahai joined them.

"A friend brought this Da Hong Pao back from Fujian. It’s said to be a purebred from the Niulan Pit in the Wuyi Mountains. While it’s not from the original mother trees, it’s remarkably close. Let’s have a taste."

Song Qingdong took a small canister from the tea cabinet and began to boil water. He performed the ritual himself—warming the cups, preparing the tea, rinsing the leaves—with meticulous care while Fang Qingye and Song Dahai watched. After a while, the tea was ready, and he poured a cup for each of them.

"Taste it. How is it?"

Fang Qingye lifted his cup and took a small sip. "Uncle Song, it’s truly excellent. Is there a hint of orchid fragrance?"

"Quite right. That is the hallmark of Da Hong Pao—a rich, lingering orchid scent... It seems you know your tea?" Song Qingdong chuckled.

"Not really," Fang Qingye replied. "My grandfather runs a nursery with all sorts of flowers, especially orchids, so I’m just sensitive to the scent."

Song Dahai took a sip but couldn't detect any orchid notes; he preferred beer or cola over tea.

After a moment, Song Qingdong shifted to the main topic. "Xiao Ye, you’re smart. You’ve already guessed why I invited you for tea today."

"Is it about the loan?" Fang Qingye asked with a smile.

"Exactly. You saw President Xia’s attitude the other night. Even though she said she would 'look into it,' it was just a polite dismissal. The fact that she took you out to dinner shows she trusts you and considers you a confidant."

A confidant? Maybe, or perhaps just a shield, Fang Qingye thought. Still, he knew Xia He appreciated him.

"Do me a favor. Use whatever means necessary to convince President Xia to grant me a 10-million-yuan loan. More would be better, of course. If this happens, I will certainly reward you," Song Qingdong said, laying out his request.

Fang Qingye pondered for a moment, set down his cup, and said, "I’ll do my best, but I can't guarantee success. And there's no need to mention a reward—as you said, Dahai and I are brothers."

"Alright then, thank you." Song Qingdong was pleased by Fang Qingye’s quick agreement, though he harbored doubts about whether the young man could actually pull it off.

Once the business was settled, Song Qingdong excused himself to go rest. Song Dahai immediately asked, "Hey, Ye, how are you going to handle your school senior at the bank?"

"It’s not too difficult, but it depends on the opportunity," Fang Qingye said casually.

"What kind of opportunity?"

Fang Qingye smiled faintly and didn't answer.

"Fine, fine, I won't ask. Just get it done." Song Dahai pushed him toward the door. "What now?"

"Gaming... but this time, I won't crush you. Let’s head to the Haofang platform."

"Alright."

Fang Qingye spent the afternoon amidst the sounds of virtual gunfire and stayed for a dinner cooked by the family’s housekeeper before heading home. He spent the final day of the holiday reading at home.

After the May Day break, Fang Qingye returned to work. He seized an opportunity to review the loan application materials submitted by Kerry Real Estate, mulling over what Song Qingdong had asked. He knew he could go straight to Xia He, but based on his ten years of workplace experience in his previous life, he knew the success rate of such a direct approach would be near zero. Xia He appreciated him, but that didn't mean he could push his own agenda, especially when it involved significant risk for her. Most importantly, he knew deep down that Xia He was not in favor of it.

He needed the right moment.

The opportunity came sooner than expected. That afternoon, just before clocking out, Fang Qingye was getting his scooter when he heard the office director, Wu Shengli, shouting in the courtyard: "Old Zhang! Old Zhang!"

No answer.

"Where did that guy go? He isn't answering his phone! President Xia has finished her meeting and is waiting for a ride. If he doesn't want to work, he can get lost!" Wu Shengli fumed.

"Where is President Xia’s meeting?" Fang Qingye asked a female colleague riding her bike nearby.

"I heard it’s at the county government office. All the branch managers were notified to attend; they’re supposed to be supporting real estate development," she replied.

Supporting real estate? Fang Qingye realized this was his chance.

Instead of taking his scooter, he walked over to Wu Shengli. "Director Wu, Master Zhang likely has an emergency. Should I go pick up President Xia?"

"Can you drive?" Wu Shengli looked skeptical.

"Yes, I got my license in school and often drive a friend’s car, though I don't have the key to the official vehicle," Fang Qingye replied with a smile.

"Fine, I’ll get you the spare key."

Two minutes later, Wu Shengli returned with a key. "Take the Passat. Drive slowly and be safe."

"Don't worry, my driving skills are solid."

Fang Qingye took the key, pulled the Passat out of the garage, and drove toward the government building. The Nanxin County government offices had moved to a newly developed district about six kilometers from the old town, reportedly to stimulate the local real estate market.

Ten minutes later, Fang Qingye arrived, and he saw Xia He, dressed in a professional office suit, waiting at the entrance of the lobby.