In two days, Ms. Jiang and Old Zhang would leave for Melbourne. Beijing’s winter climate wasn’t especially kind to older people. Before they left, Tan Xiao wanted to spend as much time with them as possible.
That morning, he slept until after nine. Zhang had already left. The CEO truly loved working, showing up at his post on time at least 360 days a year. He was bursting with energy, a man born to have a job.
Tan Xiao showered, then emerged to find Lawyer Hua had sent him a message asking when he’d be free to discuss the case’s progress. He called her.
Lawyer Hua brought him up to date. She’d started coordinating with the trust’s trustee institution and had sent a letter requesting clarification about the surrender of beneficiary rights, along with Tan Xiao’s authorization letter.
“The bad news is they replied very slowly. I waited a full three days,” Lawyer Hua said. “The good news is their reply was thorough enough to spare us another round of questions and answers.”
The trustee had addressed every point in her letter about the trust deed and explained the applicable procedure. Under the deed, to verify the beneficiary’s decision was genuine and voluntary, the beneficiary had to appear at the trustee’s office and sign the surrender documents in person.
The trustee was itself an offshore law firm, with an office in Geneva, Switzerland.
“Then I’ll go,” Tan Xiao said. “I start my postdoc in less than ten days. I’d rather finish it before I start work, because after that I might not have time.”
“That’s partly why I’m calling,” Lawyer Hua said. “I need to know what date works so I can arrange an appointment.”
“As soon as possible. What about the family? What did the trustee say?”
“The procedure outlined in their email says that after you sign, the trustee will send confirmation to the settlor, meaning your family.” She paused. “But I still believe the trustee will probably inform the Doria family beforehand.”
Trust law required the trustee to report on trust affairs to the settlor, while also imposing a duty of confidentiality toward a beneficiary voluntarily relinquishing his rights. When those obligations came into tension, the institution could decide which relationship to prioritize. The Doria family was a gigantic longtime client paying enormous management fees. It was perfectly understandable that the trustee would choose sides.
“That’s fine,” Tan Xiao said. “Tell whoever they want. My answer stays the same. I don’t want the money.”
“Then I’ll arrange the time,” Lawyer Hua said. “I’ll contact you once it’s confirmed.”
Tan Xiao thanked her and hung up.
Everything’s going smoothly. Lawyer Hua really is dependable.
He went to his wardrobe to choose some clothes. Soon he’d become a research employee earning three hundred thousand yuan a year. The brands that currently provided clothes to him would no longer see someone with his pitiful income as their target clientele. Perhaps he’d have to learn how to buy stylish clothes for ¥39.90 on Pinduoduo… He would be poorer, true, but not that poor.
Vice President Sun had once asked how much money he had. He hadn’t answered partly out of embarrassment, and partly because he didn’t know the precise figure. He held a discretionary account with a private bank that he hadn’t looked at for a long time, let alone traded through. Two bank cards were linked to his digital payments, and the account periodically transferred enough for daily expenses onto them.
Still, he was a finance specialist. He could estimate a rough order of magnitude. Add his money to Zhang’s, and together they’d be solidly in the A10 bracket, with ten-digit assets between them.
Lawyer Hua had warned that the family might obstruct the process. At the time Tan Xiao had shrugged it off. Besides the reasons he’d stated, he’d already thought of another solution. If the Doria family refused to let him go, he’d simply return every cent of the money distributed over the years, along with the real estate, and settle everything once and for all.
Of course, then he’d truly be a boy without property. His sole asset would be the bicycle his husband bought him. He’d have to earn a living in earnest. Even if his boss bullied him, he’d need to swallow the insult, because good jobs were hard to find.
But he’d still have to work. Being supported by Zhang was fundamentally no different from being supported by the Doria family, and the Doria family could afford to support him more lavishly anyway.
His husband, Little Zhang, was a man who still had a mortgage to pay.
Zhang had once explained the mortgage. He wanted to preserve liquidity and had carefully calculated that borrowing was more cost-effective than buying the house outright.
Tan Xiao had expressed understanding. In truth, he didn’t understand very much. In his entire life, the word cost-effective had barely appeared in his mind.
Perhaps before he officially severed ties with the family, he could use the money in his account to pay off his husband’s mortgage. He could include a sweet 1314 (‘forever’) message in the transfer memo, marking it as a voluntary gift to Zhang made out of love. The Doria family would have no grounds to demand it back. Once the fuss died down, Zhang could return the money. Might as well fleece the Doria family while he still could, right?
He was busy working out this little scheme when he arrived at Zhang’s house and had lunch with Ms. Jiang and Old Zhang. The two liked afternoon naps. Tan Xiao didn’t nap in winter, but he didn’t go home either. The temperature had fallen, and cycling back and forth was cold. He stretched out on the ground-floor sofa and played with his phone.
The housekeeper cut some fruit for him. He thanked her. “Don’t worry about me. Go get some rest. I’ll entertain myself.”
The housekeeper went to her room for a nap too.
A little later, as Tan Xiao turned over, he noticed tiny snowflakes falling outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He stopped playing on his phone and lay on his side, admiring the season’s first snowfall.
His phone vibrated. He had a feeling he knew who it was.
Zhang Xingchuan: It’s snowing.
Tan Xiao replied: I miss you too.
Zhang was still typing when Tan Xiao sent another message: I’m at your house. Can I stay tonight?
He’d been going back to his own apartment every night lately. It had been some time since he’d slept here. Now he got along so well with Zhang’s parents that staying wouldn’t be awkward. Besides, with snow falling outside, he had a perfectly good excuse to stay over.
Zhang decided he’d finish what he was working on and go home early.
Tan Xiao sat up and ate some fruit. What a wonderfully happy, ordinary afternoon.
One thirty in the afternoon, Beijing time. Seven thirty in the morning in Geneva.
Tan Xiao received a call from Tan Yun.
Almost half an hour later, Tan Xiao called Lawyer Hua.
As she listened, Lawyer Hua noticed an email had just arrived from Geneva. This time the response had been quick.
“The trustee just got back to me,” she said. “They want you to go there and sign within three days.”
“You were right,” Tan Xiao said. “The trustee sided with my sister.”
Tan Yun hadn’t scolded him as she had on the last call. Instead she’d begun by asking how he was, congratulating him when she learned he was about to begin his postdoc. Only then had she brought up surrendering the trust benefits.
This suggested the trustee had probably reported Lawyer Hua’s email to the Doria family as soon as it arrived. Only after receiving approval from its major client had it provided a detailed procedural response.
Tan Yun had calmly asked whether Tan Xiao had really made up his mind. His answer was unequivocal. He’d waited years to summon enough courage for this decision.
“Having you sign within three days was probably your sister’s instruction too,” Lawyer Hua said. “From what I’ve learned, institutions handling trusts of this scale don’t normally move this quickly.”
“Maybe she’s had enough of me too. Perhaps she’d rather I left her world as soon as possible.”
“That’s one possibility,” Lawyer Hua said. “Whatever happens, you must not go to Europe alone.”
“I very much want you to come with me too, Lawyer Hua. Can you get to Beijing in time?”
Tan Yun had told Tan Xiao at the end of the call that one of the family planes was coming from Singapore to Beijing and would fly back to Switzerland that evening. She would tell the crew to make arrangements and take Tan Xiao along to Geneva. Tan Xiao had already informed her that his lawyer would accompany him.
Lawyer Hua was clearly packing as she spoke, her words coming quickly. “I’m heading for the airport now.”
After hanging up, Tan Xiao messaged Zhang.
Tan Xiao: I can’t stay at your place tonight. I have to fly to Europe to sign some papers at the trustee’s office. Lawyer Hua is coming with me.
Zhang was briefing Secretary Feng. In the middle of a busy afternoon he glanced at the message and stopped speaking halfway through a sentence.
Feng looked puzzled. “CEO?”
The message had caught Zhang completely off guard. Thinking it over, he knew Tan Xiao must have discussed it with Lawyer Hua if she was going too. But did it really need to happen so suddenly?
He finished what he’d been telling Feng, then asked, “Do I have any other appointments this afternoon?”
“President Fu has scheduled a video meeting at five.”
“Move it to tomorrow morning… Actually, I’ll tell him myself.”
He called Fu. Everyone in Fu’s office had already made preparations for the five o’clock connection. Fu complained, “Are you ever coming to Guangdong again? Next time you do, we’re going to turn you into crispy roast pigeon. How can you stand us up like this?”
“You never let me interfere in your Greater Bay Area meetings anyway,” Zhang said, “but you insist I join just to serve as a mascot. Here’s an idea: catch a pigeon. I authorize it to stand in for Zhang Xingchuan.”
“What are you going to do?”
“My wife is going on a long trip. I’m worried, so I’m going home to see him.”
Fu understood. “All right. I told you not to date a university boy, but you wouldn’t listen. Kids can’t sit still. They love going out and having fun, I’m telling you…”
“Not listening. Goodbye,” Zhang said, hanging up.
The light snow kept drifting down for a while. It hadn’t accumulated on the roads, but by a little after three the traffic was already terrible.
Zhang’s drive home normally took twenty minutes. This time he was stuck for nearly an hour.
Tan Xiao was playing Fight the Landlord with Zhang’s parents.
“…”
“Home early today?” Ms. Jiang asked. Then she shielded her cards and warned Old Zhang, “Stop peeking.”
Tan Xiao smiled at Zhang too.
With his parents present, Zhang couldn’t ask certain questions. He sat beside Tan Xiao and looked at his cards.
Old Zhang had already sneaked a look and seen the sequence in Ms. Jiang’s hand. Craftily, he broke up a pair to put down a higher sequence and beat hers.
Ms. Jiang sputtered, “You… you… you!”
Old Zhang looked enormously pleased with himself.
“Don’t celebrate too early.” Tan Xiao threw down a bomb, a small one: four threes.
Zhang studied the cards Tan Xiao was holding: a short run and two single cards, a four and a seven. Tan Xiao was unlikely to win on his own, but he could at least help Ms. Jiang play out her hand first. Defeating Old Zhang, the landlord, would still mean a victory for the peasants.
But Old Zhang said, “Tan Xiao, are you confused? You and I are the peasants! We’re on the same side!”
Ever fair-minded, Tan Xiao said, “You didn’t play as a team with me. You peeked at the landlord’s cards. You cheated.”
He played his little sequence. Ms. Jiang hurried to play hers and then quickly got rid of her remaining cards. The landlord won.
Old Zhang had lost his principles and the game. Ms. Jiang even smacked him with a cushion. He wasn’t angry. Quite the opposite, he seemed delighted to be hit by his wife.
“Enough cards,” Ms. Jiang said. She’d realized Zhang had something to discuss with Tan Xiao. She turned to Old Zhang. “Didn’t you want to learn how to use video effects on Douyin? Come on, I’ll teach you.”
Old Zhang followed her off for a one-on-one lesson.
Tan Xiao asked, “How were the roads? Pretty congested?”
Zhang had been furious about the traffic. Thinking about how Tan Xiao had simply notified him of the European trip without discussing it had made him a little angry too. But when he came in and saw the three family members playing cards, the warm atmosphere diluted his annoyance.
He frowned at Tan Xiao, half wanting to scold him. Yet he knew perfectly well that Tan Xiao had always been a person with strong opinions. Too many strong opinions, really.
“This is a legal procedure,” Tan Xiao said, correctly guessing why he was unhappy. “I discussed it with Lawyer Hua immediately. It’s not some rash decision I made on a whim.”
That deflated Zhang completely. Every step had been handled correctly. He was merely the last person to be informed.
“Brother,” Tan Xiao said.
“There you go again,” Zhang replied.
“What else can I do? I only know how to act spoiled.”
What could Zhang say to that? He laughed despite himself.
Tan Xiao glanced deeper into the house. The housekeeper wasn’t around, and Ms. Jiang and Old Zhang were upstairs studying short-video production together.
He swiftly climbed onto Zhang’s lap, wrapped his arms around his neck, and began applying his most powerful charm offensive.
Zhang didn’t stand a chance. In less than half a minute he surrendered. “All right, all right. I’m not angry. Stop fake-crying.”
“I’m sorry. This is my fault.”
“You don’t need to apologize for this either,” Zhang said. “Having your own mind is good. I was a little angry, but I’m not anymore.”
He was somewhat unhappy about having no part in discussions over something so consequential to Tan Xiao’s life.
“It’s all my fault,” Tan Xiao said. “I’m just used to it. Before, there was never anyone waiting to discuss things with me.”
Zhang couldn’t speak.
That cut far deeper than acting cute. He was the kind of man who’d wake in the middle of the night remembering those words and want to slap himself.
Wow, I’m really good at playing the delicate innocent, Tan Xiao thought. Acting spoiled works. Bringing up my sad past works too. My adorable husband is so easy to coax.
They reconciled, gazing affectionately at each other. Already embracing, they caught each other’s eyes twice, and Zhang leaned in to kiss him.
Tan Xiao enjoyed the kiss but grew terribly nervous at the same time. This was thrilling. He was afraid the actual parents would see, or that the housekeeper might suddenly appear.
Zhang laughed. “Now you’re scared?”
Tan Xiao blushed. “This isn’t how they see me. If they catch us, my image will collapse.”
“What image?” Zhang said. “I’m going to tell your guardians on you in a moment. Going to Europe on your own without consulting the family! Can they add another passenger to a private flight on short notice? I want to go too.”
“My dear husband and guardian,” Tan Xiao said, “your Tan Zihan has a long-term Schengen visa.”
Because his family might summon him to Europe at any time, his passport always carried a valid Schengen visa. And Lawyer Hua, who was accompanying him, held a Hong Kong passport.
But Zhang was an ordinary Chinese citizen. He couldn’t decide to travel to Europe on a whim.
Whom could he blame? Only himself for not working hard enough. Grand CEO of little WenCheng, and his business didn’t even extend into continental Europe! Otherwise he’d definitely keep a long-term Schengen visa too. And now look at him, a husband left behind at home.
After dark, the snow stopped. Zhang drove Tan Xiao to Capital Airport.
Lawyer Hua and her assistant had flown in from Hong Kong and were already waiting.
“Thank you for doing this, Lawyer Hua.” Zhang shook her hand. “I can’t go, so I’ll have to leave him in your care, Senior.”
Lawyer Hua smiled. “I’ll do everything I can.”
“I’m only going to sign some papers,” Tan Xiao said. “Senior Sister, Little Senior Brother, you don’t have to act like we’re walking into a battlefield.”
Lawyer Hua smiled. “Let’s hope everything goes smoothly.”
For a moment, they all fell silent.
Zhang was weighed down by worry, unable to predict what might happen over there. He had no plan or backup plan. His heart remained suspended, unable to settle.
Tan Xiao appeared unconcerned, but inside he wasn’t relaxed either. He feared an accident more than anyone, especially now that he was only one step from freedom.
“Actually,” Lawyer Hua said suddenly, “I’m a little nervous.”
Zhang and Tan Xiao both went pale. Sister, don’t fall apart now of all times!
Lawyer Hua said, “I’ve never flown on a private jet before.”