When a grown man actually gets physical, Nora had no choice but to take it. Her face turned red from the slaps, and she was shoved toward the door. The onlookers outside saw the fight was getting real and rushed in to break it up.
They all gathered at the door, while I stared at the pure gold zodiac figurines on the coffee table, my breath growing heavy.
That was money—money the developer refused to refund me.
Everyone was clustered at the entrance, and I don't know what came over me. I mustered my courage, climbed out the window, and dropped onto the balcony.
I slipped inside. The gold zodiac figurines on the coffee table were dazzling. The tiger figurine was indeed damaged—the ear had a chip in it.
I reasoned that the gold couldn't be that large. How could Nora think of using these to offset her debt? An apartment cost hundreds of thousands—gold couldn't compare.
But when I actually picked one up, I realized my poverty had limited my imagination.
The figurine was barely half a palm in size, but it was incredibly heavy—easily the weight of two water bottles. I'd never held such dense gold in my life. I checked the tag and found it was marked 872 grams.
Gold is a strange thing—so small, yet so heavy.
While I was marveling at the gold, footsteps came from inside. I panicked, put the figurine down, and ducked behind the sofa into a blind spot.
Victor Li came back and firmly shut the front door. Nora had moved to the corridor window I'd just been using to yell at him. Victor Li slammed the balcony door shut and drew the curtains before heading into the bedroom.
His neck was bloody but didn't look serious—probably scratched by Nora's nails. Nora shouted from outside that he'd regret this. Victor Li shot back that he was waiting for her and would call the cops. Then he went into the bedroom and started rummaging through drawers, probably looking for a first-aid kit.
I crouched by the sofa, struggling to keep my breathing quiet. The air still reeked of new renovation materials. A new house, new gold—this man owed so many people their homes, yet he lived like this.
I thought the law should confiscate his personal assets to finish building our apartments. That would be fair!
I gathered my courage. While Victor Li was busy in the bedroom, I scooped up three gold figurines from the table and hurried toward the exit.
Reaching the door, I caught a strong chemical smell. I glanced over and saw a stack of leftover renovation supplies in the bathroom. Worried Victor Li might chase after me, I grabbed a tube of superglue, squeezed it onto the door lock, slipped out, and pulled the door shut behind me.
My heart was pounding so hard I felt dizzy and deaf. I'd never done anything this terrifying. I dashed down the stairs. I could hear people shouting near the elevator, but I didn't stop to find out what they were yelling about. Fearing I'd be seen, I hurried downstairs.
Once outside the complex, I finally exhaled. The gold in my pockets was so heavy that my pants kept sliding down. I hiked them up the whole way home, not daring to take the gold out until I was safely inside my rental apartment.
The dog, pig, and sheep zodiac figurines weighed 832 grams, 982 grams, and 1,085 grams respectively. I estimated about 2,700 grams total, but when I calculated on my phone, it came to 2,899 grams—close enough to my mental math.
I checked the gold price and nearly passed out. I'd heard gold was expensive lately, but I didn't know physical gold was going for 502 per gram. No wonder Victor Li invested in gold.
Over 1.4 million... I'll admit, I was terrified.
I looked up sentencing guidelines for theft. This was undeniably an extraordinary amount—ten years minimum. In the cold light of reason after my impulsive act, I started wondering whether I should return the gold. The punishment was too severe.
Then I looked up how much mortgage and interest I'd have to pay over ten years. Given my salary, I figured prison was the better deal. If I behaved well inside, I could get my sentence reduced. Even without reduction, it beat what I'd earn working. And I wasn't refusing to give the gold back—I could return the stalled apartment to Victor Li. I was confident the judge would consider my circumstances and give me a lighter sentence, maybe five or six years.
No matter how I calculated it, prison beat working.
I had it all planned out: sell the gold first, pay off the mortgage in full, then turn myself in to the police. A voluntary surrender would earn leniency. Once I got out, I'd reunite with my parents and start over.
Just as I was mapping out my future, sirens wailed outside. Already paranoid from committing a crime, my legs buckled and I nearly lost my footing.
I crept to the window and carefully opened it to look outside. No police cars visible—just several fire trucks speeding down the distant road.
I exhaled. I figured selling this much gold through legitimate channels would be impossible since I couldn't provide proof of purchase. Fortunately, an old classmate of mine dealt in gold recycling. Once, a mutual acquaintance found a gold chain and asked this classmate if he could sell it. He'd said back then that as long as the gold was real, he'd buy it, no questions about its origin. Melted down, everyone kept their mouth shut—usually no trouble.
I called my old classmate and told him I had some gold I wanted to sell. I hinted that it was a substantial amount.
He understood what I meant and told me not to discuss it over the phone—he'd come over right away.
True to his word, Henry arrived quickly and asked to see the gold.
I was still nervous and asked, "If you can take it, I'm willing to sell at a discount. If you can't, can you at least keep it a secret?"
He paused, then smiled bitterly. "You know where I live. You know who my wife is. You even know which kindergarten my kid attends. Monks can run, but the temple stays. You think I'd cross someone who knows me that well?"
I supposed he had a point. Still, I didn't dare bring out all the gold at once, so I only showed him the smallest piece—the dog zodiac.
He held it in his hand and inhaled sharply.
I was about to speak when my phone started buzzing with messages. It was probably the group chat blowing up. I muted my phone and asked if he'd take it.
He asked how many I had. I said more than one.
With a grimace, he told me he'd certainly take it—the problem was he couldn't afford it. The amount was too large for his small operation. A thick gold chain was already a big deal for him.
My heart sank, but he read my expression and cautiously told me that if I needed to move it fast, he could help. He couldn't buy it himself, but he knew someone who could. As long as I was serious about selling, he'd arrange the meeting. I'd need to follow his lead, though, because anyone willing to handle this kind of merchandise wasn't exactly running a legitimate business.
I gritted my teeth and nodded.
There was no turning back now.
Henry said he'd make the call immediately and stepped out. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the messages. The homeowners' group chat was exploding—people were posting photos of Victor Li's house engulfed in flames. There were videos of neighbors desperately trying to pry his front door open, but no matter how hard they pulled, the door wouldn't budge.
The group was in chaos. Someone said Victor Li's house was on fire. People suspected Nora had set it.Neighbors were trying to help. The property management had brought a spare key, but the door seemed welded shut—nothing could open it!
My heart went cold.
I knew exactly why his door wouldn't open—it was because I'd used superglue.
I never imagined Nora would set the place on fire. And combined with their earlier argument and the threats she'd made, panic gripped my chest.
The door couldn't open because of what I'd done. If Victor Li burned to death inside, would I be considered Nora's accomplice?
Even if it was unintentional, could I be charged with negligent homicide on top of everything else?
I thought I was looking at a theft charge at most, and now I'd inevitably have another crime pinned on me!
2. The Big Buyer
Henry was still outside on the phone. I paced nervously in the apartment, genuinely not wanting Victor Li to come to harm. I didn't care about that scumbag's life—he'd caused enough suffering. But if he died, my charges would only get worse.
I thought it through and reached a conclusion.
I hadn't drawn attention to myself when I went over there. Nobody knew I'd applied superglue to the lock. The tube was still in my pocket.
Once the house was completely burned, all evidence that I'd ever been inside would be destroyed. Everyone already suspected Nora of arson. Could I ride the coattails of her crime and let her take all the blame while I walked away clean? After all—it was reasonable that a fire this catastrophic would destroy a few gold figurines, wasn't it?
I shook my head, trying to push away such wishful thinking. This was all just grasping at straws. The most urgent matter was getting the gold sold. Even if I went to prison, I needed to make sure my family wouldn't suffer anymore.
I didn't think I was asking for too much. I deserved every penny!
Henry finally came back inside. He told me seriously that he'd made contact, but if I wanted to do this deal, I had to go meet them in person.
I understood. I gathered up the gold and left with him. He'd come on his motorcycle, so I climbed onto the back seat, and he started the engine.
He revved the throttle, and the motorcycle's front wheel lifted off the ground, rear tire squealing against the pavement, but we didn't move. I glanced back and nearly had a heart attack—a police officer was standing right behind us, one hand gripping the motorcycle, coolly telling us it was illegal to carry passengers on a motorcycle. Then he turned to me and asked, "Are you Marcus Zhang?"
I immediately got off, nodding nervously. Henry had gone pale and sidled away.
The officer placed a hand on my shoulder and said he needed to speak with me. He asked if I'd visited Victor Li's house today.
I couldn't believe how fast the police had found me!
Just as I was preparing to confess, he asked if I'd seen Nora and Victor Li arguing, and when I'd last been contact with Nora.
I understood immediately. He wasn't here to arrest me—he was investigating Nora.
Following my philosophy of "confess and get maximum time, resist and go home for the holidays," I honestly recounted everything I'd seen and heard—but about my own theft of the gold figurines, I said absolutely nothing.
The officer seemed satisfied with my cooperation and handed me his card. He said if I had any information about Nora's whereabouts, I should contact him directly. He complained that the neighbors were too scared of Nora to tell the truth, but I'd been forthcoming. He assured me he'd protect my identity as a helpful citizen.
I said it was the least I could do. He reminded me again not to carry passengers on a motorcycle and left.
The moment he was gone, I hopped back on the motorcycle and told Henry to go, fast.
Henry asked carefully if the gold had something to do with why the police were looking for me. I told him not to ask and that he'd be well-compensated once this was done.
Sitting on the motorcycle, I studied the business card. It read: Criminal Investigation Division 2, Detective Sullivan. Those simple words sent my heart racing. How was a detective already involved? The incident had just happened, and it was already classified as a criminal case. The police moved fast.
I wondered—if the detective was only focused on Nora and showed zero interest in me, did that mean I was in the clear?
Henry drove us out of the city. I asked how far we were going. He shouted that it was another ten kilometers or so. The wind was loud on the motorcycle, and his spit was flying into my face. I wiped my face on his shirt in disgust and decided not to talk anymore.
About twenty minutes later, we arrived at an isolated village. I didn't even catch its name. The houses were scattered—some clustered at the foot of the hills, others perched alone on the hillside. No young people were visible, only elderly folks sitting alone at their doorways. They were too old to gather for card games or chess. They just sat and stared at the sky. I supposed this was what happened when cities drained the countryside of its workforce, leaving only the frail and forgotten behind.
Henry led me to a house halfway up the hill. The yard was overgrown with weeds, and the building looked neglected—clearly it hadn't been maintained in a long time.
He looked around, then made a phone call. "Hello, this is Henry Wang, I contacted you earlier. I've arrived at the location."
After he hung up, a window in the old house was pushed open, and a woman inside waved for us to come up.
I asked Henry nervously why we had to meet in such a remote place.
He told me not to worry. The people in this business had more reason to be afraid than I did. They dealt in illegal gold—if they weren't careful, they'd bring trouble on themselves. That's why they operated from hidden locations.
Even with Henry's reassurance, I was nervous. This place was desolate. If someone decided to turn on me, there'd be no one to hear me scream.
Inside the house, I found just one woman—no one else.
Henry told me this was the big buyer, Swallow Lin. She was known for taking anything and everything, and she always had channels to move the merchandise. People who had goods they couldn't sell through legitimate channels came to her.
Swallow told Henry to cut the small talk and asked me to show the goods.
I carefully scanned the room to confirm we were alone, then pulled out one gold zodiac figurine.
Swallow was clearly a pro. She took the figurine without a flicker of surprise, hefted it in her hand, examined it closely, and declared it genuine. She said it was from the new zodiac investment product released just yesterday—even a counterfeiter couldn't produce one this fast.
She really knew her stuff.
Swallow asked how many I had. I brought out all three. She opened a cabinet and produced an electronic scale. All three together weighed exactly 2,899 grams.
She said, "One million. Deal or no deal?"
I stared at her in disbelief. "Based on what? Today's gold price is 502 per gram! I calculated—it should be over 1.455 million!"
She glanced at the figurines. "Based on the fact that I'm the only one who'll buy your goods. These clearly have questionable origins. No legitimate dealer will touch them. If you don't like my offer, walk away. Go find another channel if you can."
This woman had zero interest in negotiating. She shoved the figurines back toward me and told me to leave.
I had no choice but to agree.
I had no idea the black market could be this ruthless. I was losing over 400,000 right off the top. I'd figured I'd lose maybe ten or twenty per gram, not get gutted like this. And her attitude was ice-cold.
I was sick about it, but I had no other options. Just as Swallow said, no legitimate business would touch this gold.
I accepted her price. She asked whether I wanted a bank transfer or cash. I must have been stupid—I actually asked her, "In your line of work, you actually dare to make bank transfers?"
She looked at me like I was an idiot. "Do you have any idea how many idiots will sell their bank account for two hundred bucks?"
The penny dropped. I realized that a transfer would be risky anyway—this was dirty money. My own accounts were frozen, and transferring it to my family would only drag them into trouble. I'd rather take the fall myself.
I chose cash. Swallow nodded and said a million in cash was a significant amount. It would arrive in three hours. She told us to wait nearby and not wander off, and to come back to this house when it was time.
It was already dusk, and I had no choice but to wait. I didn't ask, but it made sense—people in this business wouldn't carry that kind of cash until a deal was confirmed.
After Swallow left, I asked Henry anxiously if this would work out. He told me not to worry.
We found a secluded spot and sat down. I kept checking the group chat on my phone. I was still clinging to one hope: that Victor Li had survived the fire. If he made it out alive, at least I wouldn't be facing a homicide charge. I really didn't want to spend too many years in prison. My parents were struggling—I needed to get out and take care of them.
The group was still discussing the fire. Firefighting wasn't as simple as throwing water on flames—after extinguishing visible fire, there were hidden embers to watch for and potential explosion hazards.
Henry noticed my silence and sat beside me. He asked whether I'd stay in the city after getting the money.