Chapter Twelve: Seeking the Teacher Once More

Despite having prepared himself mentally, when Ning Zhiheng gazed upon the suitcase filled to the brim with crisp, new banknotes, he was momentarily lost in thought. This was a fortune that most people could never hope to earn in a lifetime; even his father, who had spent years struggling as a merchant in Hangzhou, likely possessed less than half of what was contained in this single suitcase.

With this wealth in hand, he now had the means to make his mark in this world. Many plans that had been mere ideas could now be set in motion. The suitcase was a special bank model—about a foot square, not very large, but its shell was sturdy, impervious to knife blades, and unremarkable in appearance, making it easy to carry without drawing attention.

After accepting Chen Kangshi’s business card, Ning Zhiheng carried the suitcase and quickly exited the Southern Industry Bank. Now, his priority was to spend this money as soon as possible, and he had already decided who would receive the gifts—his teacher, He Feng.

He first drove to the largest watch shop in Nanjing, generously purchasing four expensive Swiss Longines watches. Then he bought the most luxurious French perfume available. By then, it was nearly noon.

Checking the time, Ning Zhiheng drove toward He Feng’s residence. During his years at the military academy, he often visited his teacher’s home, and as He Feng’s favorite student, he had enjoyed many meals there.

He Feng lived in a small courtyard near the Army Officers’ Academy. Most residents in the area were instructors at the academy, all senior officers. It was a high-level, semi-militarized residential district, inaccessible to ordinary people.

There were even guards posted at the entrance to the neighborhood. Seeing Ning Zhiheng, they recognized him immediately—he had visited often over the past two years—and let him through without question.

Arriving at He Feng’s doorstep just before noon, a boy of about fourteen or fifteen, hearing the sound of the car, ran out. It was He Feng’s son, He Wenxing.

He Feng had a daughter and a son. The eldest, He Wenxiu, was sixteen, while He Wenxing was fourteen. Both were close to Ning Zhiheng. Seeing him step out of the car, He Wenxing bounded over.

“Zhiheng, you’re finally here! Why haven’t you come by lately? Because of you, my mother hasn’t made anything tasty for us in ages!” He Wenxing greeted him with a mischievous grin.

As his father’s most beloved disciple, Ning Zhiheng’s relationship with the siblings was informal and warm. He was easy-going and considerate, and the family never treated him as an outsider.

Ning Zhiheng affectionately ruffled He Wenxing’s hair. “Here I am, you little glutton! All you ever think about is food!” He Wenxing had grown quickly; in two years, he’d shot up so much that soon Ning Zhiheng wouldn’t be able to reach his head. He seized the opportunity to mess with him a bit more.

He Wenxing wriggled away, dissatisfied, and asked eagerly, “Father said you weren’t sent to the front, but assigned to logistics here in Nanjing. Mother says that’s a good thing—peace and safety matter most these days! But I say the front lines are where the real glory is. Zhiheng, it’s such a pity!”

He Feng was always tight-lipped about Ning Zhiheng’s actual post-graduation assignment, even with his family. They assumed it was a standard allocation, and He Wenxing felt his senior was being shortchanged.

Ning Zhiheng found it amusing—boys at this age were full of simple dreams, each nurturing a soldier’s ambition, free from the burdens of reality. He almost envied their innocence.

He retrieved the suitcase from the car, and together they entered the He home, chatting and laughing.

Inside, Mrs. Li Lan and He Wenxiu, who had been preparing lunch in the kitchen, heard their voices and came out, carrying dishes to the table and inviting Ning Zhiheng to sit.

Li Lan was a dignified woman, still graceful in her middle age. Her daughter, He Wenxiu, resembled her closely—elegant and delicate as a lotus, standing tall and lovely.

“Zhiheng, you’re here. Your teacher says you have a good post, right here in Nanjing. Whenever you’re free, come eat at home; food outside isn’t clean!” Li Lan welcomed him warmly. Knowing he was her husband’s favorite student, she cared for him as her own.

He Wenxiu said nothing, but glanced at Ning Zhiheng, smiled, and busied herself setting the table. Her quiet nature mirrored her father’s—reserved and taciturn—only returning Ning Zhiheng’s smile.

Ning Zhiheng savored the warmth of this harmonious household, feeling a gentle comfort in their presence. He set the suitcase on the tea table and first took out the French perfume, handing it to Li Lan.

“Mrs. Li, I bought this on my way here. The shopkeeper said it’s the latest trend. I don’t know much about these things, but if you like it, I’ll get more next time.”

Li Lan was surprised. Ning Zhiheng had always come empty-handed, enjoying their hospitality but never bringing gifts. Today was different.

In the past, he was young and inexperienced, seeing the teacher’s family as his own and lacking the money for gifts. The He family, regarding him as a nephew, never minded. But now, Ning Zhiheng was more worldly, understanding that generosity is never amiss and even the closest relationships require cultivation.

He depended greatly on He Feng in the army and would need his teacher’s support in the future. Strengthening their bond was essential. Moreover, it wasn’t mere calculation—he truly regarded the He family as his own.

“What’s gotten into you, bringing gifts for me? You’re acting distant! Your teacher will certainly scold you when he gets home!” Li Lan accepted the perfume without fuss. The gift was already bought—there was no reason to refuse and make things awkward.

“Oh my, this is the most expensive French perfume—at least a hundred francs! Zhiheng, where did you get so much money?” Li Lan exclaimed upon seeing the label.

She was knowledgeable—she’d seen this brand in stores, exquisitely made and coveted by women, but only admired from afar because of its steep price.

“A hundred francs?” A deep voice sounded from the doorway. It was He Feng, home from work, catching Li Lan’s exclamation as he entered.

“Zhiheng bought this expensive French perfume. It’s at least two months’ salary! The boy has no idea how hard life is—spending so freely!” Li Lan was not pleased, feeling Ning Zhiheng was not managing his affairs wisely.

Such costly perfume could not be returned, and spending over a hundred yuan in one go was painful.

He Feng was astonished. He knew Ning Zhiheng’s family was comfortable, but the young man had always lived simply, never wasting money. He turned to Ning Zhiheng and demanded sternly, “What’s going on? Your monthly salary is only sixty yuan. Where did you get so much spare cash for these things? Explain yourself.”

“Please don’t be angry, Teacher. I’ll explain everything soon. Look, this is a Swiss Longines watch I bought for you. It’s time to replace that old pocket watch of yours!” Ning Zhiheng, unlike before, was not intimidated by his teacher’s stern tone.

He smiled and took out a beautifully packaged box, revealing a Longines men’s watch.

The family was stunned. In the Republic era, watches were not domestically produced; all were imported, and Longines was especially rare and valuable, far beyond what He Feng’s salary could afford.

Ning Zhiheng then, like a magician, produced two Pelikan fountain pens from his pocket, handing them to He Wenxiu and He Wenxing—both still in school. These gifts had been carefully prepared in advance.

He Feng fell silent for a moment, deciding not to press further for now. He waved everyone to their seats for lunch. Throughout the meal, He Feng remained stern-faced, and the family ate quickly without much conversation.

Afterward, He Feng stood and said to Ning Zhiheng, “Come to my study.” Then he turned and walked away.

Ning Zhiheng picked up the suitcase and followed. Li Lan and He Wenxiu watched anxiously, fearing he was about to be scolded. He Wenxing, meanwhile, ran out gleefully brandishing his new Pelikan pen, making a face at Ning Zhiheng.

In the study, He Feng indicated that Ning Zhiheng should close the door, then said with a serious expression, “All right, tell me what’s going on.”

Without a word, Ning Zhiheng placed the suitcase on the desk before He Feng, gently opened it, and turned it so the contents—rows of pristine banknotes—were revealed in all their shocking splendor.

He Feng’s breath caught. His gaze flickered between the suitcase and Ning Zhiheng, but he quickly regained composure. “Where did this come from?”

He was a man seasoned by storms, his life marked by extraordinary experiences. From his youth in the military, enrolling at Baoding Military Academy, joining the Revolutionary Alliance, surviving the chaos of warlord battles and the Northern Expedition—he had walked the line between life and death many times. His history was beyond ordinary comprehension.

He had even once personally confiscated the estate of a powerful military governor, handling piles of gold and jewels without ever entertaining the thought of keeping any for himself.

It was precisely because Ning Zhiheng understood his teacher’s character that he dared to bring such a vast sum openly before He Feng.

“Teacher, this is my father’s lifetime savings from his business endeavors. Today, I come to ask your help with an important matter.” Ning Zhiheng had prepared his explanation well in advance.

He could never reveal the true origin of the money to anyone—not out of fear of investigation, since it was found fortune and belonged to whoever discovered it. Luck favored him, after all!

The difficulty lay in explaining how he had rented a room, dug a hole, and stumbled upon two enormous jars of gold. Who would believe it? Even he found it hard to believe himself!