My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 197 Idle Affairs

On an October morning, the air in Huizhou has a dry, crisp feel.

Chen Zhuo zipped up his jacket to the collar, put his hands in his pockets, and slowly walked along the sidewalk toward the school gate.

His steps were neither fast nor slow, and his breath turned into wisps of white mist in the air before quickly dissipating.

Step out of the school gate, turn right, and walk along Jianshe Road past two traffic light intersections to reach a branch of the Industrial and Commercial Bank of China in the city.

It was just past nine o'clock, and the morning rush hour on the streets had already passed.

Several breakfast stalls selling egg pancakes and fried dough sticks by the roadside were packing up, the sound of tricycle chains rubbing together with the vendors' shouts.

Chen Zhuo pushed open the door of the Industrial and Commercial Bureau. There weren't many people in the lobby; only four or five middle-aged and elderly people were sitting on a row of chairs waiting to do their business. Chen Zhuo didn't go to the queue at the ticket machine.

He walked straight to the corporate banking and large-sum wealth management VIP area on the left side of the lobby.

It's separated by semi-frosted glass, and it's very quiet inside.

Chen Zhuo walked to an empty window, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

The female clerk behind the glass counter looked up.

She was wearing a uniform dark blue outfit with a scarf around her neck. When she saw a boy who looked no more than thirteen or fourteen years old sitting outside, a fleeting look crossed her eyes.

"Little friend, this is the business and large transaction window. For regular deposits and withdrawals or to pay tuition, you need to go to the lobby outside to get a number and wait in line."

The teller's tone was relatively gentle, but it carried a clear hint of a reminder.

Chen Zhuo did not explain.

He took his hand out of his school uniform pocket, holding a bank card between his index and middle fingers, and handed it along with his ID card into the metal slot under the counter.

It was a black savings card with a distinctive gold foil logo in the lower right corner.

This was a special account that Fang Shi opened at the Industrial and Commercial Bank of China, specifically under the guise of the Academy of Physics and a national key project.

The moment the teller saw the card, she swallowed back the words she had prepared.

She picked up the card, typed a few times on the keyboard, and then glanced at the ID card.

Name: Chen Zhuo.

Age: Thirteen years old.

The account balance popped up on the screen.

The teller paused for half a second, and her fingers gripping the mouse tightened instinctively.

But her good professionalism allowed her to quickly regain her composure. However, the way she looked at Chen Zhuo was less casual than before, and more serious and businesslike.

"Mr. Chen, what service do you need?"

The way the teller is addressed has changed.

"Interbank transfer".

Chen Zhuo's voice was steady, carrying the clear and bright quality unique to young people as it came through the glass.

"Okay, may I ask what the remittance amount is?"

"Five hundred thousand."

The teller didn't ask any more questions. She pulled out a remittance slip from the side, along with a black ballpoint pen, and pushed it out along the groove.

"Please fill in the recipient's account information and the amount."

Chen Zhuo picked up his pen.

He didn't hesitate at all, nor did he need to look through the memo.

He held the pen and neatly wrote Chen Jianguo's name, along with the bank name and account number that he knew by heart, on the remittance slip.

Each stroke is powerful and penetrating.

When filling in the amount, he wrote 500000.00 and in the capital letters column, he wrote "fifty thousand yuan".

This is not just a string of numbers.

This is the security of her parents' later years, the large house with underfloor heating in the city center, and the confidence that Liu Xiuying can now buy meat at the market without having to haggle over two cents.

After Chen Zhuo finished writing, he checked it once and pushed the form back.

The teller took the form and began rapidly entering the information into the computer.

The sound of keyboard typing was exceptionally clear in the quiet VIP area.

"Payee Chen Jianguo, interbank transfer of 500,000 yuan, handling fee of 50 yuan, deducted from card balance. Mr. Chen, please confirm the information and enter the password."

Chen Zhuo pressed six numbers on the cipher machine.

"drop."

"Processing your transaction, please wait."

After a brief silence.

The dot matrix printer in the counter started working, and a receipt with the smell of ink was printed out.

The teller stamped the document with a red business stamp and handed it back to Chen Zhuo along with the bank card and ID card.

"Mr. Chen, the remittance has been sent and is expected to arrive in the recipient's account before 2 PM today. Please keep the receipt and your identification documents safe. There is a large amount of money in the card, so please be careful when using the card."

"Thanks."

Chen Zhuo put the card and ID back into his pocket, picked up the thin receipt, folded it twice, and stuffed it into his pocket.

He stood up, pushed the chair back to its original position, turned around and walked out of the bank.

There was no sigh of relief, nor the ecstatic joy of sudden wealth.

His pace remained the same as when he arrived, neither fast nor slow.

That's all. The matter is settled.

As I stepped out of the bank, the cold wind blew against my face again.

Chen Zhuo walked along the street for a while.

On the street corner, there is a mobile phone store next to a digital specialty store, with various colorful mobile phone models and posters displayed in the glass window.

Chen Zhuo pushed open the glass door of the digital store.

Popular songs were playing in the store, and several customers were choosing MP3 players and portable music players at the counter.

Chen Zhuo walked to the counter selling mobile phones.

The glass display case was filled with a dazzling array of products, including flip-top machines, sliding machines, and entertainment machines with various colorful shells.

A male shop assistant with a buzz cut came up and looked at Chen Zhuo's school uniform.

"Hey kid, looking at your phone? We just got a few new models with polyphonic ringtones and radio, and they're not expensive at all, perfect for students."

The salesperson enthusiastically pointed to several compact models and introduced them.

Chen Zhuo shook his head.

His gaze passed over the fancy machines and landed on a row of candybar phones in the corner of the counter.

"I want a Nokia."

Chen Zhuo pointed to the area below the glass.

"I don't want a colorful case. I want a model with the most stable signal, the longest battery life, and the clearest keyboard feel. Ideally, it should be a business model with a metal casing."

The shop assistant was taken aback.

A middle school student walks in and immediately asks for a business-style model, not an entertainment model.

But being a businessman, he immediately realized what was happening and took out a square, gray-black box from under the counter.

"Then take a look at this one."

The shop assistant skillfully unpacked the package and took out a machine.

"The Nokia 6230 features a classic candybar design. Although it has a small camera, its main advantage is that it has the strongest signal receiver currently available on the market. The keyboard is made of hard engineering plastic with excellent key feedback. It also has a large battery capacity, lasting up to a week on standby."

Chen Zhuo took the phone.

The device feels heavy in the hand, and the outer shell has a frosted texture.

He pressed a few keys on the 9-key keyboard with his thumb.

The buttons make a crisp sound and have just the right amount of rebound.

"This is the one."

Chen Zhuo placed his phone on the glass counter.

"How much?"

"The device costs 2,800 yuan. If you want to get a SIM card, you can get either China Mobile's M-Zone or Shenzhouxing cards."

"Buy a China Mobile SIM card, and try to avoid using the number with the number 4 in it."

A few minutes later, Chen Zhuo paid in cash, took the phone with the SIM card, and walked out of the digital store.

He didn't put his phone in his pocket.

He walked to a bus stop by the roadside, still holding his phone.

There is a bench behind the platform for people to rest.

Chen Zhuo walked over and sat down.

Sunlight filtered through the bare branches, dappling his shoulders.

He looked down at the gray-black Nokia in his hand. The screen lit up, and the familiar handshake startup animation flashed by, accompanied by the classic Nokia startup chord.

The signal bar in the upper left corner instantly filled up.

Chen Zhuo entered the menu, found the Contacts option, and clicked to create a new contact.

He has a lot of numbers stored in his head, and now he needs to store them in his own phone.

Article 1.

In the name field, he typed in pinyin: J—I—A. (Home/Home).

In the number field, he entered his home landline number in Zeyang City.

Save.

He recalled Liu Xiuying's tone on the phone last night, which shifted from panic to determination. This afternoon, his father, Chen Jianguo, would probably take the bankbook to the city center to look at apartments.

Article .

Create a new contact.

Name: Z—H—A—N—G—Q—I—A—N—G. Zhang Qiang.

In the number field, enter Zhang Qiang's home landline number.

Save.

I wonder how Zhang Qiang is doing with quadratic functions now. Has he forgotten the red and blue coloring method? When he goes back for vacation, if that kid can't solve the problems, he'll be complaining about wanting to play arcade games again.

Article 3.

Create a new contact.

Name: L—A—0—Z—H—A—0. Old Zhao.

Save.

Article 4.

Create a new contact.

Name: L—A—0—Z—H—0—U. Old Zhou.

Save.

That was his starting point at the No. 1 High School in the city, where two teachers with very different personalities devoted themselves to him.

Chen Zhuo didn't type quickly; for each name he saved, he would mentally review the person's appearance.

It's a very reassuring feeling.

Then, he continued saving.

Name: C—H—U—G—E. Chu Ge.

Name: W—A—N—G—D—A—Y—0—N—G. Wang Dayong.

Name: L—U—J—1—A. Lu Jia.

Name: S—U—W—E—I. Su Wei.

The contacts have been saved.

From that moment on, this small, gray-black candybar phone ushered Chen Zhuo into the era of communication.

Chen Zhuo exited the contacts list, entered the messages menu, and selected "New Message".

Press the button quickly with your thumb.

"I bought a cell phone. This is my new number, Chen Zhuo."

He selected all the contacts he had just saved and clicked "send to all."

The screen displayed "Sending," the progress bar quickly completed, and then it changed to "Sent successfully."

Chen Zhuo placed his phone on his lap and sat quietly.

The sunlight was a bit too bright.

Less than half a minute.

"My phone vibrated."

Chen Zhuo picked up his phone and opened the unread messages.

From: Chu Ge.

Message: "Received. Are you out there? Pass by the second canteen on your way back to the dorm. Could you get me some fried rice, no scallions? I'm starving."

Chen Zhuo smiled slightly and replied with a single word.

"it is good."

Just sent.

"Buzz—"

Sender: Fang Shi.

Content: "Saved. Come to my office at 9:00 AM tomorrow. I need your signature for the final archiving of a few engineering data documents."

Reply: "Received".

The last message came in; it was a landline call from their hometown, which Zhang Qiang probably answered.

However, there was no content; it only rang once and then hung up.

This was a tacit understanding unique to that era.

A single ring indicates that you understand, saving on SMS fees.

Chen Zhuo smiled.

He locked the keyboard and put the heavy phone into his pocket.

He stood up and walked along Jianshe Road toward the University of Science and Technology of China.

As I passed an intersection, I saw a tricycle selling roasted sweet potatoes parked on the street corner, and the aroma of sweet potatoes wafted from the metal bucket.

Chen Zhuo walked over.

"Grandpa, could you give me a roasted sweet potato, one that's a little charred?"

"Okay."

The old man, wearing thick gloves, pulled a steaming sweet potato from deep inside the iron bucket, wrapped it in an old newspaper, and handed it to Chen Zhuo.

"Two yuan."

Chen Zhuo paid the money and held the roasted sweet potato in his hands.

The scalding heat was transmitted to my palm through the old newspaper, feeling especially comfortable in the cold autumn wind.

As he walked, he took a bite of a sweet potato, the sweet flavor spreading in his mouth.

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