Driving away from the impoverished area where the Su family resided, the further they went, the more prosperous the surroundings became. The impact of new foreign cultures added fresh brilliance to this ancient city.
Gentlemen in Western suits and fashionable women draped in fox fur sipped coffee elegantly.
Not far away, an elderly man walked past, dressed in long robes with wide sleeves, a long queue trailing behind his head, shaking it as he walked with his hands clasped behind his back: "Morally corrupt, the world is going to the dogs..."
A ragged flower girl.
Her hands were red from the cold, yet she still diligently tried to sell wintersweet blossoms to passersby.
All facets of human life were contained within this scene.
The driver, noticing from the rearview mirror that Su Ning had been gazing out the window, assumed she was curious and began to introduce the sights.
This was the busiest and most bustling street in the capital, home to the most authentic French restaurant, a hair salon that could give you beautiful curls, a Western dress shop where a single dress cost hundreds of dollars, and so on.
"...Miss Su grew up abroad, where there are far more delicious foods and fun things than in Beiping. I'm making a fool of myself."
The driver sounded rather embarrassed.
Such was the prevailing mindset of the time—everything foreign was superior, even the moon was rounder abroad, and everything was better than what was available domestically.
"You shouldn't say that. Every place has its own strengths and weaknesses."
Su Ning collected her thoughts and shook her head in response.
She casually mentioned London, perpetually shrouded in black smoke, its air filthy and foul, the Thames River floating with dead fish and garbage...
And the rampant mafia in Italy, the oppressed Russian serfs who weren't treated as human beings, and much, much more.
In her previous life, it was an era of highly developed information. Although she had never been abroad, just a fraction of what she had seen and heard was enough to captivate the driver.
"If I hadn't heard it from you, Miss Su, I would have truly believed everything abroad was perfect."
The driver kept his hands on the steering wheel and sighed with emotion.
He had also received quite a few important figures, some of whom had studied overseas. Their words, explicit or implied, always praised foreign lands while criticizing everything at home, saying this needed improvement, that was lacking.
Yet look at Miss Su, who grew up abroad.
She also said some places abroad were worse, and that some aspects of Beiping were even better!
Su Ning was unaware of the driver's inner thoughts.
Passing by a bank, she asked the driver to stop. She casually transferred the reward funds stored in her system warehouse there, intending to give the money a legitimate origin.
After all, a few dozen dollars could still be explained as carried on one's person.
But funds amounting to tens of thousands always needed a reasonable source.
…………
The architecture of the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation was beautiful, with its grand European-style columns and reliefs, exquisite and full of exotic charm. Even the doorman and ushers were Indians speaking awkward English.
Business here was good, with many people coming and going for transactions.
The entrance was crowded with rickshaws, and a quick glance revealed over a dozen automobiles, a rare sight elsewhere.
Apart from a select few who were respectfully ushered in by managers wearing white gloves, most people were dealt with in a strictly businesslike manner.
There was also another type—those who pulled bank staff aside, stuffing them with gifts and sweet-talking them—
Such people usually had very troublesome matters to handle.
Henry, a senior client manager at HSBC who had given himself this English name, was currently utterly annoyed by a client pestering him.
"Please, just help me this once, exchange some US dollars for me. Throughout my entire business history, which transaction hasn't been handled through HSBC?"
Having pleaded for so long with no effect, the client even resorted to threats:
"I've begged you like this, and you still won't give me this little face. Don't blame me if I transfer all the money from my account and deposit it in another bank."
"Sir, it's... ah, it's not that I'm unwilling to help. It's truly that the bank simply has no US dollars left. Not just dollars, there's no surplus of British pounds or German marks either..."
Henry put on a troubled expression, spoke perfunctorily while inwardly finding it quite ridiculous.
This person was overestimating himself.
With less than five thousand dollars in his account, what did it matter if he transferred it all out? HSBC certainly wasn't short of clients with such modest financial means.
With that level of resources, he still wanted to exchange for US dollars?
Nowadays, the world was unstable. Everyone knew foreign currency was valuable and scarce.
Rarity increases value.
HSBC only had so much foreign currency on hand, of course they would only make exceptions for powerful figures with substantial influence.
Like Minister Cheng from the Ministry of Health who came the other day, with his solid foundation and vast influence.
Or, a certain magnate commanding hundreds of thousands of troops, exchanging foreign currency to purchase weapons.
At the very least, it had to be like the Fang Family Cloth Store, which begged and pleaded, pulled in a whole host of connections, and was willing to exchange at a rate of one to twelve before HSBC reluctantly agreed.
Who are you, some insignificant ant?
He didn't give the slightest hint of flexibility.
Seeing him like this, the client grew increasingly anxious. He had gone to great lengths to find out that HSBC had received a new batch of US dollars and rushed over, afraid of missing the opportunity.
Having US dollars in hand could accomplish many things.
"Alright then, I'm willing to offer one to ten."
The client gritted his teeth and made the offer, then looked at Henry with hopeful anticipation.
In his view, this price was absolutely high.
After all, the official exchange rate was only one to four, though of course, no one was foolish enough to actually exchange at that rate.
The market price for exchanging US dollars.
Generally hovered around one to eight, one to nine—if you had the connections to exchange, that is.
Clearly, this price couldn't move Henry.
He shook his head cruelly.
Simultaneously, he lost all patience to continue listening. If this pestering went on, more and more people without self-awareness might come demanding foreign currency exchange.
Just then, a bank clerk ran over.
Whispered something in his ear.
Henry's expression turned grave. He directly ignored the client beside him and, under the overt or covert gazes of others, wove through the crowd.
The crowd's gaze followed his movement.
What important personage could make Henry, the quite renowned manager of HSBC, show such deference?
Finally, Henry stopped before a young woman with an indifferent expression, not a single piece of jewelry on her person, who, at first glance, gave no impression of wealth.
He bent down and said courteously:
"Hello, Miss Su. The US dollars and Chinese currency you requested to exchange are ready. Please follow me."
