Chapter Nine: People Need Goals to Live

As morning light streamed through the gaps in the curtains of suite 3306 in Jiapu, Cheng Yin opened her eyes.

Li Yaodong was already awake, leaning against the headboard checking emails on his tablet. Sensing she was awake, he said without looking up, "I've arranged a job for Xu Chen—parking cars for people at Galaxy."

Cheng Yin sat up, the silk sheet slipping off her shoulders. She nodded, asking no further questions.

With his right hand in a cast, Xu Chen's range of jobs was indeed limited.

"And also," Li Yaodong put down his tablet, "I've seen your resume. A graduate of a prestigious university, a certified public accountant, and previously worked in auditing at one of the Big Four accounting firms." He turned to her, "I want you to work for me."

Cheng Yin's eyelashes trembled slightly. She turned to look at Li Yaodong: "Is the mortgage debt calculated based on working hours?"

Li Yaodong raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Of course. But..." he leaned closer, "mistakes made at work should also be counted as debts."

Cheng Yin nodded: "Of course." She got up and walked towards the bathroom, her steps very light.

She's too thin, almost not even alive.

An hour later, Cheng Yin sat in a private office in the center of Jin Xiao City, with three computer monitors and an encrypted USB drive in front of her.

Li Yaodong inserted the USB drive into the host computer and retrieved a series of encrypted files.

"These are the accounts from Macau, Hong Kong, and the Southeast Asian islands over the past three years." He swiped the mouse. "Transactions marked in red require special handling, those in blue are from formal channels, and those in green are outstanding receivables."

Cheng Yin quickly scanned the numbers on the screen. The red portion was alarmingly large, the amount enough to send anyone to jail for life. She looked up at Li Yaodong: "Is this all you're showing me?"

Li Yaodong leaned against his desk: "Is there a problem?"

"Aren't you afraid I'll use these to threaten you?" Cheng Yin asked directly.

Li Yaodong suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the closed office. He leaned over, placing his hands on either side of Cheng Yin's armchair, trapping her between himself and the desk.

"Threatening me?" His breath brushed against her face. "Using these ledgers?" He laughed again. "Cheng Yin, do you know how many people want to kill me every day? Do you know how many bodies have sunk to the bottom of the Haojiang River?" He gently patted her cheek. "You're welcome to try."

Cheng Yin did not back down, but calmly returned his gaze: "I'm just confirming."

Li Yaodong straightened up and adjusted his suit cuffs. "Get these sorted out today. I'll check them tonight." He walked towards the door. "Lunch will be delivered."

After the door closed, Cheng Yin immediately got to work.

She categorized the accounts by region and year, created cross-indexes, and flagged unusual cash flows and suspicious transactions.

At noon, the waiter brought the meal box: shrimp dumplings, siu mai, char siu buns, and a cup of iced lemon tea. Cheng Yin glanced at it and continued working, only occasionally sipping the now lukewarm tea.

The time in the bottom right corner of the screen jumped from 13:00 to 15:00, and then to 18:00. The food in the lunchbox gradually cooled down, and the congealed grease floated on the surface.

Cheng Yin's fingers flew across the keyboard, her eyes dry and sore.

Numbers are safe. Numbers won't betray, mock, or sneak into her bed at night. Numbers only demand right and wrong, and there's a clear line between right and wrong.

Cheng Yin was immersed in Excel spreadsheets and financial statements, as if it were the only important thing in the world.

When Li Yaodong pushed open the door at nine o'clock in the evening, Cheng Yin was leaning against the sofa, taking a nap with her eyes closed. Hearing the sound, she immediately sat up straight, and the dark spots in her eyes disappeared after a few seconds.

Li Yaodong glanced at the untouched lunchbox on the table, then at her pale face.

"Are you done?" he asked.

Cheng Yin nodded and pointed to the main screen: "The red sections have been reclassified, suspicious transactions have been marked, the cash flow optimization plan for the blue channels is in folder D, and the green receivables have undergone aging analysis and risk assessment."

Li Yaodong glanced at it briefly, raised an eyebrow: "Sooner than I expected." He closed his laptop. "Let's go have dinner."

Cheng Yin shook her head: "You can check it first, and I'll fix it if there are any problems."

"I said, let's go have dinner." Li Yaodong said, emphasizing each word.

Cheng Yin stood up, and her vision went black again.

She steadied herself by holding onto the edge of the table. "This is fine with me." She pointed to the cold food container. "You check the bill first."

Li Yaodong's eyes turned dangerous. He approached Cheng Yin, looking down at her: "Are you trying to bargain with me?"

Cheng Yin looked up and met his gaze. "It's not about bargaining," she said softly, "just reminding you not to treat me like a human being."

Li Yaodong froze.

Cheng Yin had already opened the lunchbox, picked up a cold, hard shrimp dumpling with a plastic fork, and put it in her mouth. The oil melted on her tongue, cold and greasy, but she chewed it expressionlessly, as if completing a task.

"When I agreed to pay back 870,000 yuan for Xu Chen," she said while eating, "I had already..." She didn't finish her sentence, but made a gesture, as if the action could explain everything.

Li Yaodong stared at her for a long time, then suddenly asked, "Why?"

Cheng Yin swallowed her food: "What? Why?"

"Why treat yourself..." Li Yaodong unusually chose his words carefully, "as a tool?"

Cheng Yin put down her fork and thought for a while. No one had ever asked this question before.

Her aunt said she had a "cheap life," her cousin said she was "more useful than an inflatable doll," and Xu Chen called her a "tagalong," but no one ever asked why.

"People need goals in life," she finally said.

Li Yaodong frowned: "What kind of answer is that?"

Cheng Yin continued eating the cold char siu bun, her voice as calm as if she were discussing the weather: "When I was little, my goal was to study hard and get out of my aunt's house." She paused, "Later, my cousin... my classmates bullied me, and I wanted to die."

The neon lights outside the window cast alternating shadows on her face through the blinds.

"The day I wanted to die, I met Xu Chen." Cheng Yin finished the last sip of her flat iced lemon tea. "So, afterwards, he became my target."

Li Yaodong's expression became complex. He walked to the window, his back to her: "So you don't care who it is, whether it's Xu Chen or me, as long as someone gives you a 'target'?"

Cheng Yin thought about it carefully for a moment: "Hmm."

"A madman," Li Yaodong said softly, whether in judgment or as a sigh, it was unclear.

Cheng Yin nodded and threw the empty lunchbox into the trash can. "Thank you for lunch." She paused, then added, "Thank you for arranging work for Xu Chen too."

Li Yaodong turned around and suddenly strode over to grab her wrist. He was very strong, and Cheng Yin could feel her pulse beating under his fingertips.

"Listen," he said in a low voice, "starting tomorrow, eat three meals a day on time, and work no more than eight hours a day." He released his grip. "That's an order."

"That debt..."

"Calculate it as is," Li Yaodong interrupted her, "but violations will result in double the deduction."

Cheng Yin nodded: "Okay."

Li Yaodong picked up his coat: "Let's go back to the hotel now."

On the way back, Cheng Yin gazed at the neon lights flashing past the window.

The streets of Haojiang were packed with tourists at night, everyone with a smile on their face, as if there was no pain, no hunger, and no one wanted to jump off the school building in the middle of the night.

She remembered the melted chocolate Xu Chen had given her when she was seventeen.

That was the first time in her life she had received a gift, even though the wrapping paper was covered in cigarette ash and the chocolate was so soft it wouldn't hold its shape.

She ate it in small bites, afraid of finishing it too quickly, while Xu Chen smoked beside her, mocking her for looking like a refugee. The chocolate was so sweet it tasted bitter, sticking between her teeth and palate for a long time.

Just like now, the taste of the cold char siu bao in her mouth is greasy, sweet, nauseating yet terrifyingly real.