Chapter One: One Misfortune After Another

Inside an office building in the XH District of Shen City, a middle-aged man with a bulging belly strode over to a young employee who looked utterly exhausted, thick file in hand.

“Wu You, go through this file for me. There’s a digital copy in the shared folder. I need it by 1 p.m. If I find a single typo, you can forget this month’s bonus.”

Wu You stared at his boss in disbelief. “Mr. Huang, I’m a graphic designer. Shouldn’t you ask the document secretary to review this?”

Huang Youde shot him a glance and grunted, “You think I don’t know that? Xiao Li has to come with me to meet a client for lunch. If you don’t like it, you can walk out and never come back.”

Wu You took a few deep breaths, head bowed, silent for a long moment. Eventually, he resigned himself and dragged the stack of papers left on his desk over to himself.

“A measly illustrator who thinks he’s somebody…” Faint, scornful muttering drifted from the direction of the boss’s office.

Some colleagues watched with barely concealed schadenfreude, others with sympathy, but not one stepped forward to help. Everyone in the company knew Wu You had gotten on the wrong side of “Skinflint Huang.” No one wanted to draw his ire as well. Though it was only a small business run by a private boss, jobs were hard to come by in these tough economic times.

Wu You rubbed his eyes. The sketches he’d stayed up all night to complete still hadn’t been shown to Huang, and he expected they’d just be rejected and sent back for revisions. Glancing at the clock on his computer, it was already 11:30. Whether he could finish reviewing the files before 1 p.m. was doubtful, but lunch was certainly out of the question.

Recently, the advertising firm had been picking up a lot of freelance illustration work for games. Wu You’s specialty was animal sketching and fantasy comics—skills that had until recently made him moderately valued at the company.

But last month, the company hired a new secretary to the general manager, a fresh graduate named Li Li. On her third day at work, she was asked by the boss, Huang Youde, to stay late. That evening at 8 p.m., Wu You returned to the office to retrieve a forgotten phone and happened to catch his boss harassing Li Li.

Truthfully, Wu You hadn’t performed any heroics in that moment. Though he felt compelled to intervene, he’d been caught off guard, hesitating as he took in the scene. Li Li, mortified and frightened upon seeing the door open, rushed past Wu You and fled. This only enraged Huang Youde further.

Since then, Huang had held a grudge against Wu You. To make matters worse, Li Li had not resigned, as Wu You had hoped; within days, she and the boss were on familiar terms.

As Wu You struggled to keep his weary eyes open, his phone rang. It was his uncle.

Zhang Guojun, Wu You’s uncle, had always been kind to him, though in recent years they only met at New Year’s. He usually communicated with Wu You’s mother, Zhang Jinlan, rarely calling Wu You directly.

His uncle’s voice was low and somber on the phone, with Wu You’s mother’s quiet weeping in the background, urging him on. Wu You was told that his father, Wu Jianguo, had been in a car accident. The operation had just ended, and he was now in the ICU at the Central Hospital in Qiantang.

Wu You’s mind went blank with shock. He could not believe that the silent, stoic man who had always held the family together now lay fighting for his life in a hospital hundreds of miles away.

He burst into the boss’s office without knocking.

“Mr. Huang, I need to take time off to go home. My father was in a car accident.”

Huang Youde acted as if he hadn’t heard, sipping tea at leisure before glancing up at Wu You.

“You want a break, fine, but why make up such a story? Finish the project plans for next week and then you can have your leave.”

Wu You forced himself to stay calm, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Mr. Huang, I’m not lying, and I’m pretty sure I still have five days of paid annual leave I haven’t used.”

Huang waved him off impatiently. “Enough about annual leave. No time off until the plans are done. And even then, I’ll need to review them, and who knows if they’ll be up to standard.”

After more than a month of being singled out by Huang, Wu You could endure no further. He dashed to his desk, grabbed the printed version of the project plans he’d labored over all night, stormed back to the general manager’s office, and slammed the portfolio onto Huang’s desk.

“Here’s your project plan,” Wu You said, then grabbed Huang’s water cup and upended it over the portfolio, soaking the entire stack of papers.

“I quit!”

Without waiting for Huang’s furious shouts, Wu You gathered his phone, wallet, and other essentials, and strode out the door bearing the sign “Hongwang Media, Shen City.”

By 4 p.m., after switching between high-speed rail and taxis, Wu You arrived at the Central Hospital in Qiantang. At the information desk, he asked for his father’s location and made his way to the ICU.

A cluster of relatives had already gathered outside the ward, comforting his weeping mother. When she saw Wu You, she clung to his arm, choking with sobs as if finally finding her anchor.

After a few words of comfort, Wu You entered the ward to see his father.

The room was filled with monitors and medical equipment. Wu Jianguo lay pale and motionless on the bed, his forehead wrapped in thick gauze, an oxygen mask over his face, an IV in his arm, both legs elevated, eyes closed with no sign of waking.

When Wu You left the room in silence, his uncle explained the situation: Wu Jianguo had six fractures in his legs, a shattered pelvis, two broken ribs, and, most seriously, a concussion. There was a constant risk of internal bleeding in his brain. The culprit, a truck with out-of-town plates, had fled the scene after the accident. If not for a street cleaner who witnessed the crash and called the police, Wu Jianguo might not have made it to the hospital. The police were investigating.

Zhang Guihua, half weeping, half reproachful, cried, “Your father is so stubborn. I told him to let it go, but he wouldn’t listen, insisted on taking it to the provincial authorities, left the house in a fury first thing in the morning, and now look…”

Wu You had worked in Shen City ever since graduation, and though he’d heard about the situation from his mother, he hadn’t realized how serious it had become.

The Wu family lived in Xugou Village, a remote mountain hamlet in the corner of Xiaoshan. Behind the village rose a forested mountain and a clear river flowing to the sea. The scenery was beautiful, the transport convenient, and, being not far from the prosperous city of Qiantang, a developer had recently set sights on the land behind the village, planning to build a luxury country resort and clubhouse. Seven households, including the Wu family, were in the affected area, which led to the inevitable issue of relocation compensation.

Normally, relocation meant a windfall, and the villagers should have been happy. But this developer had connections in both official and less savory circles, was overbearing, and offered only half a million yuan per family. It sounded like a lot, but in Qiantang and the neighboring city of Kuaiji, it wouldn’t even buy half an apartment; naturally, the villagers refused.

The Wu family, with land leased behind the mountain and a section of river where they grew tea, fruit, raised free-range chickens, and farmed mussels and fish, stood to lose the most. Wu Jianguo, therefore, became the ringleader among the holdouts, negotiating repeatedly with the developer and eventually forcing the compensation up to 1.5 million yuan per household.

But even then, the developer refused to budge beyond that amount. Six of the families, though barely breaking even, eventually signed under pressure. But for the Wu family, it was impossible—their vast investment in land, river rights, and a house under construction had nearly consumed Wu Jianguo’s lifetime savings. 1.5 million yuan was barely a fraction of what they had sunk into the property.

That morning, Wu Jianguo had set off in his battered old van, vowing to take the issue to the provincial authorities—if the developer’s connections reached the city, surely they didn’t extend to the province. If that failed, he would go to the capital itself.

He’d barely made it onto the provincial highway before a truck with out-of-town plates slammed into him from the side.

Wu You’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His father had driven that road countless times for business; for the accident to happen now, just as he was heading to petition the authorities, was too much of a coincidence. Wu You simply couldn’t believe it was mere chance.

“Family of Wu Jianguo, is anyone here a relative of Wu Jianguo?” A nurse approached down the corridor.

Wu You stepped forward. “Nurse, I am.”

“The initial operation and medical fees are running out, and there’s the ICU care to pay for. You’ll need to deposit 50,000 yuan up front. If that’s not enough, you’ll be asked to top it up.”

Zhang Guihua opened her mouth but instinctively glanced at Wu Xiaohui, Wu You’s second aunt among the relatives. The latter awkwardly avoided her gaze, mumbling about needing the restroom and hurried away.

Wu You’s heart sank. With the recent house construction, river leasing, and the 200,000 yuan he’d lent his second aunt for her son’s down payment, the Wu family—once relatively well-off among relatives—now couldn’t scrape together 50,000 yuan for the hospital deposit after the surgery costs.

“All right, nurse, I’ll pay it in a moment. Is my father out of danger?” Wu You replied before anyone else.

“He’s not in immediate danger, but over the next few days we’ll need to monitor for intracranial bleeding and organ complications. He’ll need to stay in ICU for a while. The key issue is brain damage—if things go badly, he could end up in a vegetative state. Anyway, make sure you pay the deposit.” With that, the nurse left.

At this, Zhang Guihua nearly fainted. Wu You quickly caught his mother. “Mom, don’t worry. Dad’s going to be okay. Qiantang Hospital’s medical care is excellent. By the way, how much do we have left in savings?”

Zhang Guihua sighed, “Twenty-three thousand yuan.”

Wu You breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He had thirty-eight thousand on his own card; together, it would just about cover the deposit.

But what about after that? The ICU cost six thousand a day—just for standard care. Even if he hadn’t just quit, his meager salary wouldn’t last long. Was he supposed to sign the relocation agreement? But if his father woke and found out, he’d be furious. How could Wu You live with himself?