Chapter 56: A School in Silicon Valley?

In the United States, personal relationships and business are kept strictly separate; the distinction between the two is clear. Personal preferences matter little—neither Su Mu nor Old Su felt there was anything wrong with Old Fifth Qiao lending money to Da Long Ge. From a moral standpoint, it was certainly questionable, but Old Fifth Qiao would undoubtedly gain a high return from such a loan, and they had no reason to criticize him for it.

They were surprised that those two had been arrested. Old Su had seen Da Long Ge’s son, Qiu Ge, just that morning, and during the afternoon negotiations, had met Director Jill Lee of the SSA. Suddenly, he guessed what might have happened and pressed, “Old Fifth, what’s the matter?”

Seeing the expressions on the faces of the grandfather and grandson, Old Fourth Qiao realized they truly knew nothing about it.

With a wry smile, he explained, “I heard that a lot of the relief funds for elderly Chinese were embezzled by that SSA official and Da Long Ge. After a lawyer reported them, the prosecutor got involved. It just so happened that the official was preparing to flee, carrying over two hundred thousand dollars in cash. Not long after being taken in, he confessed everything about Da Long Ge. The whole team at the Social Security Administration was brought in. I can’t believe you two weren’t following such a big case.”

Old Fifth Qiao had many people under him. Almost no rumor in Chinatown escaped his ears, especially those he personally instructed his men to investigate. As soon as Lawyer Jiang heard the news, he informed Old Fifth Qiao right away.

“Heh! If we’d gotten the money, we’d have gone home by now. We really hadn’t heard a word,” Old Su said, his face a mix of disgust and anger, furious that anyone would dare embezzle money from those poor, unfortunate countrymen. Compared to Director Jill Lee, he hated Da Long Ge even more.

He had seen through that scoundrel long ago, but never imagined he was capable of something so vile.

Su Mu felt the same revulsion, and finally understood why Grandma Lin had never received her relief payments over the years, and why, during the afternoon’s negotiations, Jill Lee had been so agreeable—agreeing to all of Lawyer Jiang’s settlement terms without even consulting his own attorney.

The Chinese who had come to America from all corners of the world lived at the very bottom of society, so much so that many were driven astray. The Chinese community lacked any support from local public resources, and with waves of impoverished immigrants arriving, it became a breeding ground for crime.

In America, illegal Chinese gangs were often supported by legally registered “association halls”—self-governing organizations of the local Chinese. Once power fell into the hands of the wrong sort, they would inevitably turn to illegal activities.

At first, these groups had formed to unite and defend themselves against outsiders. But over the years, they had changed; now, they even preyed on their own, extorting protection money, fighting, dealing in contraband, and forcing women into prostitution. Strictly speaking, Old Fifth Qiao was no saint—he might have treated the Su family well, but he was by no means a good man. In his youth, he had committed crimes as well; only as he rose in status did he retire from such activities, becoming a leader of one of the association halls. His business grew, and he eventually secured a place among the senior ranks of the Chinese Chamber of Commerce in North America.

He now continued, “I always wondered where Da Long Ge got so much money. Turns out the little bastard was sneaking around doing this. No wonder he went to Las Vegas to open a casino—probably to launder the stolen money. You can’t spend ill-gotten gains unless you clean them first.”

Seated on the wide, luxurious sofa in his office, the conversation gradually shifted from major affairs to family matters. Old Su and Old Fifth Qiao led completely different lives; apart from current and past daily trivia, they found little in common to discuss.

Some old friends inevitably drift apart—not from any loss of affection, but because each has come to inhabit a world of their own, and even when together, conversation falters. Over time, contact fades away.

They had known each other since boyhood, but now, they were more like distant acquaintances. That was why Old Su was reluctant to trouble Old Fifth Qiao; even during the hardest years, when Su Mu’s grandmother fell ill and needed expensive treatment, he never borrowed even a penny. The last trace of their old bond might still be worth twenty or thirty thousand dollars.

While the elders reminisced, Su Mu, unable to join in, listened with interest. After a moment of hesitation, his grandfather finally asked, “Just now, I heard you arguing with your son. Has something happened?”

“More or less. He’s gotten himself into trouble. I just hope he’ll smarten up. In the end, I’ll have to help him out…” Even Old Fifth Qiao found family matters a headache and didn’t want to elaborate about his son. He shifted the conversation to Su Mu, asking, “What grade are you in now? Which school do you attend?”

Su Mu, a bit shy, replied, “Castellar, not far from here. I just took the SSAT and plan to transfer to a private high school.”

Old Su, beside him, added proudly, “Yes, he did quite well—there’s a good chance he’ll get a full scholarship to a private school. Those private high schools are all about the money; tuition is so expensive, it’d be great if he could save it.”

They knew Castellar’s teaching was poor; in fact, there wasn’t a single good school near Chinatown. Perhaps because it was pleasant chatting with Old Su, a rare respite from the scheming and stress of running his own affairs, Old Fifth Qiao was in unusually good spirits and suddenly said:

“If you want to transfer, I could lend a hand.

My second sister-in-law works in admissions at a very good private school near San Francisco. She might be able to get you a full scholarship. I can’t guarantee anything, but if your grades are good, you’ll have a better chance than most. The only downside is it’s a bit far from home.”

Su Mu’s schooling had become Old Su’s greatest source of anxiety. He hoped his grandson could win a full scholarship, but didn’t want to burden him with too much pressure, so he kept his worries to himself. The high tuition was a crushing weight for the Su family.

His interest piqued, he pressed, “Distance isn’t a problem. Your second sister-in-law’s surname is Pei, right? The girl from old Mr. Pei’s family—the one who had a limp? I even attended their wedding… If he could get in, that would be wonderful. Could you ask for us?”

All these years, Old Su had never asked Old Fifth Qiao for a favor.

But today, for his grandson’s sake, he had already asked for one, and now, it looked like he was about to ask for a second. Deep down, it was because he lacked confidence in Su Mu; having someone help with admissions was far more reliable than relying on grades alone.

In his eyes, any private school was better than Castellar, so he didn’t even bother to ask the name, agreeing on Su Mu’s behalf.

If it had been just his grandfather, Su Mu would have objected, but with others present, it was awkward. He shot his grandfather a look, but Old Su pretended not to see.

Old Fifth Qiao did not mind being asked; he was just being kind. He smiled, “Alright then, give me the materials and I’ll see what I can do. I’ll give you an answer in a few days. It’s a good school—right next to Stanford University. If you want to apply there in the future, it’ll be easier.”

Su Mu was taken aback. Wasn’t that in Silicon Valley?

His impression of Silicon Valley was of cutting-edge technology, including computers, and the idea of studying there suddenly seemed very appealing. His resistance faded, and he couldn’t help but feel that this school might suit him perfectly…