Chapter 38: Actually... I Want to Go Into Business With You

The William Hill betting company has an excellent reputation; if it were otherwise, it could never have grown so large. In the end, they paid Sumu his winnings. He was handed a cashier’s check in the amount of $174,250. Sumu had never seen a check for such a large sum before; it felt hot to the touch in his hand. Carefully, he placed it into his battered wallet, worth no more than three dollars. He didn’t dare sign the back—if he did, anyone could deposit the money into their own account. Unsigned, the check was merely a piece of paper; even if lost, it could be replaced with some effort.

Likewise, the money Sumu won through gambling required him to handle his own taxes. Whether to declare it or not was entirely up to him. The Sumu family had always been poor, so much so that they had never filed taxes. The IRS simply couldn’t be bothered with such destitute people. Across America, tax evasion amounted to hundreds of millions of dollars annually. Back then, the IRS was not very efficient, and computers had yet to become widespread, making audits exceedingly difficult. As long as one did not draw attention, it was unlikely to be a problem.

Mr. David, believing that Mr. Han was Sumu’s father, had initially planned to write Han’s name on the check, but Han refused. The check was made out to Sumu’s English name.

At first, Sumu was a little worried about this, but after hearing Mr. Han’s explanation, he realized he had been overthinking it. Han had no intention of taking the money for himself. Sumu had even prepared himself: if Han had shown the slightest sign of embezzlement, he would have exposed him in front of Manager David. But now it seemed he had judged a gentleman by the standards of a petty man.

This was entirely normal—when faced with such a large sum, one could never be too careful. Because of the incident with Mrs. Lin’s relief fund, Han felt even more kindly toward Sumu. In return, Sumu admired Han’s sense of fairness. Otherwise, he had considered bringing his father, Sutingcai, with him today. Even if it meant handing the money over to his parents, it was better than losing it, and he would never have agreed to Han accompanying him.

People are more inclined to trust the wealthy, perhaps because they know the rich are not tempted by such amounts. That was why Sumu felt so at ease; otherwise, it was hard to say if he would have trusted Han.

At that moment, Manager David’s feelings were complicated as he personally escorted the “father and son” to the door of the betting shop.

Had Sumu agreed to allow another news story about himself, Manager David would not have been so disappointed. Unfortunately, the young Chinese man specifically requested that no further reports be published about him for the time being. Since the subject himself refused, there was nothing David could do. American laws regarding minors are exceptionally strict. He regretted losing such an excellent opportunity to promote his company; otherwise, even having to pay out such a large sum would have been easier to bear.

Accompanied by Mr. Han, the elated Sumu went first to New York City Bank—the Citibank Los Angeles branch, as the Chinese called it. There, he opened an account. He had brought his student ID, and filled out a form with his social security number, home address, and other information. After some time, he managed to deposit the funds into his own account.

Overall, banks have generally been ahead in the application of communications technology. As early as the 1950s, some American banks began using magnetic recognition systems. By the mid-1960s, credit cards and ATMs appeared; after the 1970s, debit cards, point-of-sale networks, and microcomputers began to emerge. By now, banks had begun rudimentary computerization of their systems.

Still anxious, Sumu visited another bank to check his balance. Only after confirming that his account now held exactly $174,250 did he finally breathe a long sigh of relief. The past few hours felt like a dream, unreal and illusory.

...

“Look at you—money in your pocket really does make you walk with a spring in your step!” Han remarked with a touch of envy, thinking back on how hard he had to work for his own first fortune. His name was Han Yu. When he was young, his family had nothing; it wasn’t until the early 1960s that he came with his parents to America. He had done every dirty and exhausting job imaginable, and it took him more than a decade to accumulate his current wealth. By contrast, Sumu seemed to have made his fortune with ease.

Still reeling from the shock, Han continued, “No wonder you were so secretive last time. So you really put down that much money—you’ve got guts, kid. Lucky your luck held, or you’d have lost everything! You’ve got nerve for someone so young, but gambling isn’t a good habit. How did you know you’d win?”

“My late grandmother came to me in a dream,” Sumu replied, putting on a foolish smile and feigning innocence. “She told me to bet in my dream.”

Han, the middle-aged man, rolled his eyes at Sumu, as only a fool would believe that. He pressed further, “That can’t be right. I saw your father the other day—he said you gave him the $7,000 you won last time. Where did you get more money to bet? Did you come again after that?”

Sumu was reluctant to answer, mainly because he had no way to explain. Instead, he retorted, “Can’t I have a little money of my own? I placed the bet last time, then used my stash to cover the deficit. My elders have all been busy lately, and we’re already so poor, so I wanted to take a big gamble. If I won, we could finally live a good life and they wouldn’t have to work so hard. If I lost... well, I’d go back to working honestly and never try such reckless things again.”

Han nodded, suddenly enlightened. That made sense—otherwise, no matter how he thought about it, it was too strange for Sumu to have the nerve to place a $4,000 bet. He knew Sumu’s family situation perfectly well; “wealthy” was a word that had nothing to do with them. Only a last-ditch effort could explain it.

“I don’t know what to say... Anyway, you absolutely can’t do this again. Lightning doesn’t strike twice. Don’t let my words go in one ear and out the other,” Han admonished him seriously, speaking as an elder. As both a boss and a friend of Sumu’s father, he felt obliged to keep Sumu from going astray. He’d always had a soft spot for the boy.

Then he pulled a roll of cash from his pocket, spring roll-shaped and bound with a rubber band, and handed it to Sumu with a smile, changing the subject: “Here you go, a thousand dollars in wages for you. We’re even now; you don’t have to work anymore. Spend some time focusing on your studies.”

Sumu accepted this pay without embarrassment—it was what he had earned. Smiling, he slipped it into his pocket and said, “I understand, boss. Thank you.”

“As long as you understand. No need to work now; just buy government bonds and live off the interest, and your parents will be over the moon.”

Sumu stiffened, then hurriedly said, “By the way... boss, could you do me a favor? I don’t want my family to know about this just yet, so I hope you can pretend you don’t know anything.”

Han’s face turned stern, thinking Sumu meant to squander the money. “What, did you forget what I just said? Why would someone your age carry so much cash? If your dad finds out, he’ll blame me. Anything else, fine, but I can’t agree to this—it would be doing you harm.”

“I...” Sumu was speechless. He had no confidence whatsoever that he could convince his grandfather to let him invest the money in stocks. Suddenly, he thought of an alternative and said, “I wouldn’t waste it. Actually... I want to use the money to invest in a supermarket, so my family wouldn’t have to work so hard. Seeing them leave early and come home late, barely getting any sleep, it just makes me feel awful. So, really... I want to go into business with you. Working for others is never as good as being your own boss, and it’s much better than just leaving the money in the bank for interest...”