Chapter 3 — The Secret Pension

The first line showed my father’s basic pension. Nine hundred and fifty-one yuan. The second line was something entirely different. A special technical talent subsidy. Following that was a long historical ledger of transferred funds. Fourteen thousand eight hundred and fifty yuan every single month. Continuously for twelve years. Not a single penny missing. The tips of my fingers instantly turned ice cold. I heard my own voice asking.

"Which card was this money transferred into?"

The woman behind the counter kept scrolling down. The receiving account appeared on the screen. The last four digits did not match the card my father was holding. Nor were they 3762, as the customer service hotline had claimed. Fang Weidong suddenly reached out and pressed his hand onto the keyboard.

"That is enough."

I raised my head and looked at him.

"Move."

He stared at me, lowering his voice to a dangerous whisper.

"Young lady, there are certain funds your family cannot just take back simply because you want them."

I looked into his face. Then I picked up the deposit slip lying on the counter and slowly folded it.

"My mother is currently lying on the operating table."

"My father has saved and scraped for twelve years."

"And now you are telling me that this money is not something my family can retrieve?"

The entire hall fell into a sudden, heavy silence. Fang Weidong’s throat bobbed. Right at that moment, my phone rang. The caller was Han Dehai. I pressed answer. He roared through the receiver.

"Han Qing, did you go to the social security bureau?"

"Get your ass out here right this instant!"

"That card is not in my hands!"

The roar of Han Dehai echoed so loudly that everyone in the hall could hear it. I turned on the speakerphone.

"Second uncle, you just said that card is not in your hands."

The other end of the line went dead silent instantly. Fang Weidong’s hand was still planted on the keyboard, his face turning paler than the white walls. I stared fixedly at the last four digits glowing on the screen.

"Then how did you know which card I was looking up?"

Han Dehai let out two heavy, ragged breaths.

"Han Qing, don't you try to trap me with your words."

"Your father's situation is extremely complicated, a little girl like you wouldn't understand."

I laughed.

"It is true that I do not understand."

"That is precisely why I am standing right here in the social security hall, in front of all these people, to get to the bottom of this."

"My father's special subsidy for twelve years, fourteen thousand eight hundred and fifty yuan every month, whose card has it been going into?"

The call was abruptly disconnected. The busy tone sounded like a sharp slap across everyone's face. People waiting in line began to whisper among themselves. Fang Weidong lowered his voice and said, "Come into the office and we will talk." I did not budge an inch.

"We will talk right here."

"Was my father's money short in the system by half, or was it funneled straight into someone else's card right under your very noses?"

The muscles in Fang Weidong's face twitched violently.

"Do not pin groundless accusations on me."

I looked at the woman behind the counter.

"Please print out the detailed statement."

She hesitated and looked at Fang Weidong. Fang Weidong stated, "Nothing can be printed without official approval." I pushed my documents one by one under the glass partition.

"An authorization letter from the principal, proof of direct lineage, my identification card, our household registration book, and the hospital's certification."

"Tell me which document is missing, and write it down for me."

The woman behind the counter bit her lip, her fingers hovering hesitantly over the print key. Just then, a man in a dark coat emerged from the back office. His name tag identified him as the hall supervisor. He asked, "What is going on here?" Before Fang Weidong could utter a word, an elderly gentleman standing in line shouted out.

"A senior engineer's benefits have been issued for twelve years, yet his family hasn't received a single dime."

"Not only do they refuse to print the details, but they are also pressing their hands on the keyboard to block people from seeing."

The supervisor's expression darkened immediately.

"Director Fang, take your hand off."

Fang Weidong froze for two seconds, then slowly withdrew his hand. The woman behind the counter pressed the print button. The sound of the printer dispensing paper was faint, yet it felt like a saw blade dragging across my chest. One page. Two pages. Three pages. Twelve years of transaction history were densely printed out. The exact same date every single month. Fourteen thousand eight hundred and fifty yuan. Never once interrupted. At the very bottom were the name of the bank and the specific branch where the receiving account had been opened. The moment I saw the branch address, my fingers clenched tightly. That was not the neighborhood near my home. It was the branch right outside the residential compound where Han Dehai lived. The supervisor picked up the detailed statement and scanned through it, his eyebrows knitting closer together with every second.

"Who submitted the request to change the benefit-receiving account?"

The woman behind the counter pulled up the digital data page. Her voice trembled.

"Twelve years ago, it was changed directly at the counter."

"The officer who processed it was Fang Weidong."

The entire hall grew even quieter. Fang Weidong immediately interjected, "Back then, I only acted according to the paperwork."

"The documents were complete, the system approved it, so I did nothing wrong."

I demanded, "Where are the files?" He replied, "Old archives might not be around anymore." The supervisor cast a cold glance at him.

"The old document archives have scanned backup copies."

Fang Weidong's lips quivered.

"That batch of documents is too old; some might be missing."

The supervisor said coldly, "Check them." The woman behind the counter opened the scanned files. The data page spun a few times before a gray-white form popped up. I leaned in close to read it. The purpose of the request was listed as an application to change the supplementary benefit-receiving account. The applicant was listed as Han Dexhang. But in the section for the proxy handler, the name Han Dehai was written clearly in black and white.