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Red Packet Revenge

Mike Rader

    You know what a hong bao is? A “red packet,” in Mandarin. In reality, it’s a red envelope embossed with a gold good luck symbol, stuffed with money for Chinese New Year. But the cash should never be in multiples of four. That’s an unlucky number. So put in $8, $80, $800, $8,000. Crisp new banknotes, mind. We also call it yasui qian — money for suppressing ghosts.
    Being a married Chinese man, it is customary for me to give a hong bao to my unmarried sister. Sure, it’s a lovely custom, and Gloria takes it very seriously. But there’s a problem. When our parents died, Gloria and I inherited their millions — jointly! Trouble is, Gloria always gets in my way. I want to use the money, invest it in my business, but she says: “No, brother, let us not take risks.”
    It’s all very well for Gloria to say that, but my business has been hit by the pandemic. I have some very substantial debts that I could wipe out in an instant if only I had access to my parents’ money. But Gloria refuses. “Brother, whatever financial problems you have, you must solve them yourself. You cannot rely on our parents’ money, otherwise nothing would be left for the future.”
    The future? What future? If I don’t get the money I need now, my business will crash and my family will lose everything!
    So this Chinese New Year, when Gloria opens her lucky envelope, she’ll find her usual $80 along with a small insect that will sting her with deadly venom. Cost me a fortune to procure it from a friend in Nanking.
    At our traditional New Year’s Eve family dinner, I presented her with her red packet. Gloria gave me an unsuspecting smile and bowed. She knew the custom: never open your envelope in the presence of the person who gave it to you. So when Gloria slipped the envelope into her bag, I figured great, this is the last time I’ll ever see you, soon I’ll have all the money I need, and nobody will ever suspect me of murder.
    Two things happened the next morning, the first, most auspicious day of the New Year.
    My son died early in the morning.
    And Gloria was back, tear-streaked, in horror. “Wang Lei! Forgive me! I gave some of my red packets to your children. I didn’t know they’d bring them bad luck!”

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