Chapter 6 — Three Hundred Twenty Eight Yuan Card

“It's me.”

Mom stood up. The three of them went to counter number two. The teller is a young man wearing rimless glasses and a neatly tied tie.

“Hello, what procedures do you need to do?”

“Check the balance of this card, and print a statement for me.”

Mom put my bank card and ID card through the small slot under the glass. The golden card surface reflects under the light of the transaction counter.

“The account owner is Hua Niem An, right?”

“Yes, please wait a moment.”

The employee puts the card on the reader and types a few times on the computer keyboard. The screen had its back to us, completely invisible. Duong Kien Hoa stood to my right, back straight, arms crossed over his chest. Looks like he's sure of victory. My palms were sweaty. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds. The keyboard typing suddenly stopped. The employee glanced at the screen. Then look again. He raised his head and looked through the glass at the three of us.

“May I ask... when did you receive this card?”

“The big boy gave it to me.”

“He said there were 3,280,000 yuan on the card.”

The staff's eyes turned from me to Duong Kien Hoa.

“Sir, please confirm for me, how much money did you deposit on this card?”

“3,280,000 yuan.”

Duong Kien Hoa's voice is still very loud.

"Just sent it a few days ago. Not even a penny is missing."

The employee bowed his head and typed a few more times on the keyboard. The printer next to it makes a "squeaking" sound. A sheet of white paper with black letters was slowly pushed out. He tore down the paper. But don't give it out right away. He looked at the screen again, as if confirming something.

“Ma'am.”

He looked at my mother.

“Or… see for yourself.”

The thin sheet of paper is passed through the glass slit. Mom reached out her hand to receive it. I immediately stopped to look. Duong Kien Hoa also stretched his neck. First line on the slip: Account number 8756. In the middle is account opening information. The last line… That number sequence is not 3,280,000.00. Nor 328,000.00. Not even 32,800.00. Three hundred twenty-eight yuan. My mother held that piece of paper. Stand motionless. Mom looked at that paper once. Then the second time. Third time. I thought my mother would be angry. Or at least ask a few questions. But she did nothing. Mom slowly folded the confirmation paper in half. Then fold again. Fold it squarely and put it in your old leather bag. Then she turned around and looked at Duong Kien Hoa. His face is no longer red. It's an indescribable gray-white color, like an old wall with peeling paint. His lips twitched.

“The bank must have made a mistake.”

The voice was much quieter than before.

"Obviously I sent 3,280,000 yuan. There must be a problem with the system. Let me call and ask right away!"

He frantically took out his phone, his fingers frantically tapping the screen, not knowing if he actually made a call or not. Mom looked at him for a few seconds.

“3,280,000 yuan and 328 yuan… the difference is ten thousand times.”

“If the banking system could make mistakes like this, they would have closed their doors a long time ago.”

Duong Kien Hoa still held the phone to his ear. No one knows if there is someone listening on the other end of the line or not.

"I'm calling the account manager! Call now!"

“No need.”

Mother's voice is as calm as water.

“The black ink and white paper are printed clearly.”

“I see very clearly.”

She took back the bank card from the delivery counter pandemic. But don't put it in your pocket. Which went straight to Duong Kien Hoa.

“328 yuan… my mother and I cannot accept this favor.”

“Give it back to me.”

Duong Kien Hoa did not reach out to receive it. The golden card kept floating between the two of them.

“Take it, big brother.”

“I won't take it!”

“It's for Niem An!”

His voice suddenly rose. Several people waiting for their numbers in the hall all turned their heads to look over.

“3,280,000 yuan is the wrong bank!”

"Give me two days! I'll go find the bank manager and explain!"

“No need.”

Mom put the card down on the counter.

“Nien An, let's go.”

She turned and walked out. The footsteps were still as steady as when they came. Not faster. Not slow either. I quickly followed. After walking a few steps, I couldn't help but turn around and look back. Duong Kien Hoa still stood dumbfounded in front of the transaction counter. One hand rests on the table top. The other hand is still holding the phone. Lips parted, as if wanting to call out something, but in the end no sound came out. The other card is still on the counter. Blinding gold. No one touched it. As soon as he stepped out of the bank door, bright white sunlight immediately poured down. Mom goes ahead. I followed behind. Walk about a hundred meters, reach the intersection. Suddenly she stopped. I saw her shoulders tremble slightly. She did not turn her head. After two or three seconds, he slowly spoke up. It's like you're talking to yourself.

“He doesn't want to add even an odd number.”

“Even… maybe that 328 yuan is just the minimum balance required when opening a card.”

Her back is still straight. But his voice began to get hoarse. I followed quietly. No one said another word. The sun heats up the asphalt, and every step you step on feels like it sinks slightly into the soft ground. As I walked to the gate of the apartment complex, my phone suddenly rang. Beijing area code.