Chapter 105: The Crushing of Dreams

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The Su family remained much the same.

There was no longer any worry over Su Mu’s tuition fees. The elders earned enough to save some money, and while their life wasn’t wealthy, it was better off than most families in Chinatown. They no longer had to fret over food and lodging.

Thinking that his grandson would be heading to university in a few years, Old Man Su still wouldn’t spend recklessly. Yesterday, when his son Su Dingcai traded in his old truck for a new one, the elder had scolded him severely, warning that if the grandson ended up unable to afford college, it would be because his father had squandered money.

Su Dingcai felt deeply wronged.

The old pickup had officially been retired last week due to engine failure. Repairing the engine would cost more than the truck was worth, so he sold it to a used car dealer for just over six hundred dollars and bought a replacement.

He swapped a scrapped secondhand vehicle for another nearly worn-out used car, a Ford from the early 1970s with 140,000 kilometers on it. There was also a Mercedes-Benz used car with over 160,000 kilometers, but it was over two thousand dollars more expensive, so he couldn’t bring himself to buy it.

When Su Mu returned home, the dinner table was once again laden with food. He was earning money now, but not yet able to contribute to household expenses—his investments tied up too much capital.

He had given his parents over seven thousand dollars during the summer vacation, an unexpected windfall from sports betting. The family currently had no worries about food or drink; all three adults held relatively stable jobs and had more than twenty thousand dollars in savings. There was no rush to give them more.

He had originally ordered three IBM computers for a startup plan, but after shelving the project, he resold them—losing a couple hundred dollars in the process, but at least managing to sell them.

Kung Pao chicken, braised rooster with potatoes, scrambled eggs with chives, and tomato egg soup—Su Dingcai was still cooking. Glancing back, he asked, “Son, where’s Ping An? Did he come back with you?”

“No, he’s busy earning money over at my school.”

Hearing this, Su Mu’s mother, ever curious, asked, “I heard from Ping An’s mother that you two made money selling computers in Menlo Park? How much did you earn?”

Almost choking, Su Mu silently cursed Ping An’s big mouth. He had warned him not to mention it yet, but sure enough, the news had reached his mother. He replied casually, “Not much, just over two thousand.”

He glanced at his mother, who was staring at him with a knowing look as if she already knew everything. He quickly added, “...Later we made another thousand or so, over four thousand in total. We only went out to find business on the weekends, it didn’t affect our studies.”

“You’re getting bolder, even daring to lie to me!” His mother said.

Su Mu tensed up, then heard her continue, “I knew you were hiding something. Ping An’s got a ten percent share and already made five hundred bucks, so you should have made over four thousand.”

“...” He silently cursed, “bastard.” He had clearly given Ping An three thousand last time but told his parents he only earned a bit over five hundred!

Fortunately, he said “over five hundred,” or he would have been caught by his mother for sure this time. Truly a friend—sharing the same tricks.

Hearing that his grandson was making money, Old Man Su perked up and asked sharply, “Is the money with you? Why do you need so much? Give it to your mother to keep safe.”

“No, I still need to invest. Business is good now, I need working capital.”

“Making money is enough. You don’t need that much. Business isn’t that easy. I’ve eaten more salt than you have in your whole life—trust me,” the old man said confidently, convinced his approach was right.

Su Dingcai chimed in, “Got lucky once—can it keep going? Put the money with your mother. We don’t need it. You’re the only kid, so we’re just helping you save.”

This was one reason Su Mu hadn’t told his family about opening a supermarket.

His elders had limited vision and little knowledge of investment or business. Su Mu saw a promising market, but they didn’t necessarily agree.

Before he reached adulthood, and perhaps even after, his family would restrict him, making it impossible to ignore their “good advice.” Keeping things secret was the best course.

His mother, worried he might get upset, smiled and said, “Just eat your meal. Why talk about this now? Keep the three thousand for safekeeping, and spend the rest on whatever you want.”

Thankfully, he only confessed to earning over four thousand dollars. Otherwise, Su Mu feared that his efforts to build startup capital might be indefinitely delayed, with his family depositing it all in the bank—well-intentioned but ultimately harmful.

The three elders united in their front, each urging Su Mu not to act rashly. They said things like “Better to study well than anything else,” lecturing him until his head ached. Feeling stifled, Su Mu quietly said, “Alright, I’ll give you the money tomorrow.”

Old Man Su didn’t care whether he agreed or not. Another sum of money had entered the household—something he would need to work three months to earn himself—and he was very pleased with his grandson’s prudent approach.

After dinner, lying on his small bed, the old radio played a Beatles song.

Su Mu thought about his family’s attitude toward his entrepreneurial efforts and felt, deep down, that it was stifling his dreams and ambitions. Instead of praising his achievements, they only tried to prevent him from getting conceited by constantly opposing him.

In a way, their approach was not wrong. But seen from another angle, it was also crushing his fragile confidence. Old Man Su believed he was encouraging him, but in reality, he was discouraging him.

Ping An had been suppressed his whole life. His father often called him stupid in front of others, making him doubt himself whenever problems arose.

Thinking of Ping An being beaten by his family for dropping out, Du Zhong losing his allowance because of dating, Su Mu realized Chinese parents seemed overly controlling in their children’s upbringing—not just in manners and behavior, but also in matters of love, career, and friendship. Sometimes even thoughts had to align with theirs.

A wave of helplessness washed over him. He had wanted his parents to help manage his supermarket, but it no longer seemed appropriate. Though he trusted his family unconditionally, their personalities were ill-suited for management.

Now in his rebellious phase, Su Mu made a rational decision: even if he told his parents tomorrow about the supermarket, he wouldn’t let them meddle too much.

His business thrived, and his family could live well. But if his family messed things up, everyone would suffer. Su Mu felt his chances of success were better because he had “cheated” a little. Letting his parents oversee the company would likely cause problems.

Take his parents’ personalities, for example—the supermarket was positioned as a “low-price store,” but they might think the prices were too cheap and tell Mr. Han to raise them.

Or his grandfather, upon seeing acquaintances shopping, might wave his hand and allow old friends to run a tab. Many grocery stores ran tabs, and the old man thought it quite normal to owe money temporarily.

Bit by bit, the supermarket wouldn’t last long…