Go back home to show off.

I’m going back to my hometown for the New Year. Usually, after having lunch in the countryside, the next routine activity is playing Mahjong together. I don’t like playing Mahjong. But to maintain various family relationships, I reluctantly join a game. In my opinion, playing Mahjong is half about the game itself and half about chatting and bragging. I don’t know if it’s since my car accident left me disabled or since I started investing in stocks, but I’ve become less interested in chatting and bragging with people. First, I feel arguing with them is pointless. The topics they discuss usually don’t interest me either.
While playing Mahjong, I mostly see myself as a tool. They chat and boast, and I just listen silently. I’m too lazy to refute some bizarre opinions, but often, some proud people in life come to show off, saying their son-in-law is a civil servant from some place, or that they are doing very well at work with a high salary.
Honestly, I find these county town braggarts most annoying, but they’re just showing off their own stuff—don’t drag me into it. I just listen silently. But there are always a few disrespectful elders who, knowing I am a disabled person without a job, deliberately use income to provoke me, asking if I don’t have a job and if the government subsidies are enough. I say they’re barely enough for my pocket money. They then say I should find something to do online to lighten my parents’ burden… (they don’t know I invest in stocks), and they talk about some disabled person opening an online shop and earning a lot of money, giving all kinds of lectures as if money online is easy to get. I find it all so annoying.
I think it’s time to pretend to be impressive and scare them a bit.
I say that besides the minimum living allowance, I have other sources of income every month. I tell them I own shares in two Fortune 500 companies, which pay me dividends every year.
When I say this, they are a bit stunned. In their understanding, the concepts of holding shares, stocks, and investing are a bit fuzzy. If I say I’m trading stocks, they would look down on me. But if I say I own shares in Fortune 500 companies and that the company pays me dividends, they think that sounds impressive.
After a brief silence, they seem to have discovered a new world. They start asking me many questions, mainly two: how did I get these shares? and how much are the dividends each year?
I say that back during the financial crisis a long time ago, some executives and shareholders of the company didn’t believe in its prospects and sold their shares cheaply. I thought the price was right, so I bought some at a bargain.
As for dividends, I’m not very sure. If the company is doing well, they pay more. They still don’t give up and keep asking how much I received in dividends last year. Since I’m pretending to be impressive, I turn the tables and ask, “How much does your son-in-law earn per month?” He stammers and says he’s not really sure, probably around 10,000 yuan. I pretend to calculate on my phone and then say calmly, “If you average it out per month, it should be higher than your son-in-law’s salary.”
When I say this, everyone in the room is stunned. It feels like my image has become more impressive in their eyes. No longer the pitiful disabled person relying on government aid.
This is the common perception of most people in my hometown countryside. They don’t understand the relationship between trading stocks, shares, shareholders, and dividends. They only know that Fortune 500 companies are powerful, and that these companies can give me a lot of dividends—that’s even more impressive.