Chapter 8

Xin Qi naturally agreed. Li Weiguo was very enthusiastic and immediately offered to front the money himself and take care of contacting the seller.

Li Weiguo took an hour off work, went home to get his bankbook, and then went to the bank with Xin Qi to withdraw 1,000 yuan in cash. They settled the transaction on the spot—money paid, item received.

After receiving the money, Xin Qi didn’t forget to remind Li Weiguo, “I’ll tell my sister about this myself. You’d better not go around blabbing and cause trouble for her and my brother-in-law.”

“Don’t worry,” Li Weiguo promised. “I’ll be sure to thank you properly in front of my brother-in-law.”

Only then did Li Weiguo happily leave.

Now, Xin Qi had a total of 3,500 yuan in cash in hand—all large-denomination bills. It was a thick wad of money. Fortunately, it was winter, and she was wearing thick clothing. She stuffed it into her padded coat; it looked bulky, but didn’t attract attention.

Of course, she couldn’t just carry that much cash around. Xin Qi planned to deposit all of it in the bank.

When the bank teller saw such a thick stack of bills, his eyes widened.

In the 1970s, it wasn’t common for just anyone to have thousands in savings—especially not a young, pretty girl like her.

The teller, a young man, blushed and didn’t dare look directly at her. “Comrade, would you like to deposit into a fixed-term or current account?”

“Current,” Xin Qi replied without hesitation.

The teller thought she didn’t understand and quickly advised her that fixed-term accounts had higher interest rates, and that it would be a waste to deposit into a current account.

Xin Qi remained firm. “I want a current account.”

Fixed-term savings meant the money would be locked in. Since she hadn’t found a job yet, and couldn’t predict if anything unexpected might come up, current made more sense.

The teller had no choice. It was her money, after all. If she said current account, he couldn’t force her into a fixed-term one.

Soon, the deposit slip was ready. It showed a balance of 3,500 yuan.

After the deposit, Xin Qi asked whether the bank offered safety deposit boxes.

This caught the teller off guard. The service had only recently been introduced, and no one had used it yet. He decided to call the manager.

When the manager heard someone wanted to rent a safety deposit box, he was intrigued. Safety deposit box services originated in 17th-century England.

In China, the service had only just begun, and few people even knew about it—let alone had valuables worth storing in a bank.

When the manager saw Xin Qi, he was immediately suspicious. How could someone so young possibly have such a large sum of money—and even know about safety deposit boxes?

In those days, people were constantly on edge about class struggle. The manager thought she was suspicious and, while keeping her occupied, had someone call the police.

Xin Qi found the manager strange—he kept talking about the history of safety deposit boxes while subtly probing about the source of her cash.

Several times, Xin Qi interrupted him, insisting on renting a box, but he kept changing the subject.

After two cups of tea and still no progress, Xin Qi lost patience and stood up to leave.

Just then, two police officers walked into the bank. The staff, who had been waiting for them, led them straight to the manager’s office.

The manager, still trying to keep Xin Qi there, finally relaxed when he saw the officers arrive.

He pulled Xin Qi over and said to them, “Officers, this is the person. She’s holding a large amount of unexplained cash. I suspect it’s illegal income or that she’s a spy.”

Only then did Xin Qi realize the manager had been deliberately stalling to wait for the police.

She quickly tried to explain she wasn’t a spy and that the money was hers.

But the two officers remained stern and didn’t listen to her explanation. They asked for her name, took down her details, and brought her to the station.

She was placed in a small interrogation room. Xin Qi had never experienced anything like this.

In her past life, she had always been a law-abiding citizen and even a model taxpayer. She’d never been in a police station—let alone as a suspect.

And in this era, being labeled a spy could lead to unimaginable consequences.

Still thinking with a modern mindset, Xin Qi hadn’t accounted for the particular risks of this time period—and had walked right into a trap.

She considered whether she could just tell the truth. But the source of the money was indeed unclear. If they brought in Xin Shan to confront her, Xin Shan would never admit anything.

Just as Xin Qi was racking her brain for a way out, the door to the interrogation room opened. A man and a woman—both officers—entered.

The male officer was in uniform and wore a cap. Xin Qi thought he looked familiar.

She searched her memory, trying to figure out who he was.

He, however, recognized her immediately. “Xin Qi?”

And then Xin Qi remembered—this was He Linyuan, a classmate from middle school.

After graduation, Xin Qi had been sent to the countryside in Harbin, while He Linyuan, with a military family background, had joined the army straightaway.

She never imagined they would meet again—Xin Qi now going by Xin Qi (different character, same pronunciation), and He Linyuan now an officer interrogating her.

She had strong memories of him from school. Kids from military families and those from working-class homes were from two different worlds.

Back then, He Linyuan had stood out—good-looking, well-groomed, a star at school.

Xin Qi had once harbored a crush on him, but they never had much contact.

She didn’t expect him to recognize her instantly—especially since her family always said she looked very different now from how she did as a child.

The female officer was curious. “Captain He, you know her?”

He Linyuan replied, “She’s a classmate from middle school. When I saw the name, I thought it might be her—and it is.”

Then he turned to Xin Qi. “You’re Xin Qi, right? Changed your name to Xin Qi too?”

Xin Qi nodded. “Yes, I’m Xin Qi. Now I go by Xin Qi. Long time no see. You’re He Linyuan, right?”

He Linyuan smiled. “Yes, I am. Long time no see indeed.”

“But now’s not the time for catching up. I’ll get someone else to continue the questioning.”

…

Xin Qi was speechless. Did he really have to be so by-the-book? She really wasn’t a criminal.

He Linyuan left, and after a while, another officer came in.

Xin Qi was shocked again—it was another familiar face. This time, it was Zhang Tianlei.

But Zhang Tianlei looked all business, serious and official.

Xin Qi wasn’t sure if he recognized her. After all, they’d only met once.

Better to stay quiet—no need to make things more complicated. She pretended not to know him and treated him like a stranger.

Zhang Tianlei said, “According to the bank manager, you are in possession of a large sum of unexplained cash. Please explain the source of this money.”

Xin Qi replied, “I’m a returning educated youth. This money is the wages I saved over six years, plus the dowry my grandmother gave me when I was sent to the countryside. It’s all mine.”

Her grandmother had already passed away three years ago. She was of Manchu heritage and had some valuable antiques. She’d loved Xin Qi deeply. It wasn’t implausible that she might have given Xin Qi a large sum.

“I’ve only been back in Beijing a few days. Even if I wanted to break the law, I haven’t had the time. And if this money were stolen, someone would have reported it missing, right? Have you received any such report?”