Blackstone Code-Chapter 551: A Thin Line

Helen stood outside her house after returning from the interview. She waited until the secondhand goods recycling company workers left, then sighed and asked her father, “What did we lose this time?”
Her father stood on the withered lawn. The patch of dead grass beneath their feet hadn’t been replaced for over half a year.
The community had previously approached them, saying that if they couldn’t afford to replace the yellowed lawn, the community company could loan them the money.
In the Federation, aside from low-end or run-down neighborhoods, mid-to-high-end communities held strict standards. Buying a house didn’t automatically make one a member—you had to follow the community’s rules. Otherwise, everyone would unite to drive you out.
The house’s appearance, yard vegetation, and lawn were the most basic requirements. You didn’t have to buy property there, but if you did, you had to follow the rules.
Some requirements were written into the purchase contract, others signed upon moving in. Either way, people were obligated to comply.
But the community company quickly dropped the issue. They realized more and more residents couldn’t afford lawn replacements. If they covered one household’s cost, others would expect the same. The company itself was nearly bankrupt—how could it help everyone?
Now, the main road into the community was flanked by yellow, dying grass. The neighborhood’s image plummeted.
For Sale
signs on some lawns only made the once mid-range community feel even more desolate.
Her father smiled bitterly. “We just lost our washing machine and the lawn mower,” he said apologetically. “Sorry—the new round of bills is coming, and I had to pay them. We don’t really need those things right now.”
“I noticed the community service center has laundry rooms with coin-operated machines. It’s not far. Washing clothes won’t be too much trouble. As for the lawn…” He looked down and kicked the dry ground, scattering a few clumps of dirt. There was no green left to speak of.
They had once been a relatively well-off family, but the sudden economic downturn had crushed them. As they scraped together tuition for Helen’s university, the collapse hit—leaving them defenseless against risk.
A string of job losses and their younger daughter’s medical needs forced them to replace weekly physical therapy sessions at the hospital with Helen’s at-home care. Still, their lives didn’t improve.
Selling off belongings became the only way families like theirs could survive. The TV constantly claimed the economy was recovering, that factories had reopened—but some people seemed to be forgotten by all the good news.
When there was nothing left to sell, they’d offload their homes at a third of the purchase price—if they were lucky.
Then they’d move to worse neighborhoods or to the lower city, using connections to rent government relief housing, packed into tiny rooms, waiting for the economic winter to end.
A heartbreaking, helpless reality faced by countless people.
After a few seconds of silence, her father said, full of guilt, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Helen said, walking over to hug him. “Let’s talk about something good. Do you know Mr. Billionaire?”
As they headed inside, he replied, “Of course—Mr. Lynch. The youngest billionaire. The news has been talking about him nonstop. What about him?”
“I went to his interview!” Helen finally revealed it. She had only told her family she was going for an interview, not where—she hadn’t wanted to raise hopes unnecessarily.
But now she realized they needed good news to lift their spirits. Nothing could inspire them more than her having interviewed with Mr. Billion himself. Even if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t a bad thing.
At least she went. That alone made her résumé more impressive.
Her father’s interest piqued. “So? Did you get the job?”
Helen shook her head. “I don’t know. But Mr. Lynch said I left a strong impression and he’d seriously consider me when deciding.”
“That’s great news! I need to tell your mother—we’re having something good for dinner tonight!” He was visibly excited. His guilt momentarily faded. Maybe nothing would come of it, but at least, for one night, they could enjoy some peace and joy.
That evening, there was beef on the dinner table. Her mother proudly explained, “We bought it together. I got the best cut!”
Helen’s family wasn’t the only one suffering. The financial disaster hit Eminence even harder than other places.
Unlike other regions supported by industry and agriculture, Eminence relied heavily on finance and services. So the crisis hit them faster and harder.
Group buying became common—neighborhood women pooled money to buy bulk, unprocessed food, which was cheaper and more plentiful.
An individual couldn’t afford it, but a few together could. Dividing the food still required sharp eyes and some effort, but Helen’s mother was thrilled—she got the juiciest piece of meat.
That only made Helen’s father feel worse. He forced a smile, nervously rubbing his hands under the table. He was smiling, but it felt worse than crying.
At the dinner table, for a moment, it felt like the past—when neither parent was unemployed, when they had enough to pay for Helen’s tuition and the younger daughter’s treatment. Back then, none of this was a concern.
Just one more month, and everything would be fine.
Toward the end of dinner, Helen’s little sister asked, “Will you get the job?”
All eyes turned to Helen. A weight she’d never felt before suddenly fell on her shoulders.
She looked at her father. His eyes held a complicated mix—despair, hope, contradictions all tangled together.
She nodded instinctively, then again with more force, assuring them with words even she didn’t believe, “I will. I will.”
The table was briefly silent, suffocating—until her sister’s laughter broke it. She probably didn’t understand how hard it was. She just innocently believed things would get better, like the TV said.
After dinner, while her mother cleaned up, her father pulled her aside. He wanted to say something but just smiled and said, “Don’t push yourself too hard. We’ll hold on until things get better.”
That night, Helen felt an unfamiliar weight—pressure, responsibility, suffocation.
There was almost nothing left to sell. Next might be the house itself.
The next morning, Helen went straight to Lynch’s residence, a house on the slope near Inner Bay—Eminence’s finest location.
On one side, the bustling city; on the other, the distant sea. It didn’t get better than that—and the price was equally unreachable.
Locals often passed by, but few ever had the right to enter. Not even as guests.
Money drew a line. Inside was paradise. Outside, hell.
Helen asked the guard to see Mr. Lynch, but he didn’t want to see her. She was devastated.
If she didn’t get the job, what would she do? What would happen to her family? Her sister? Herself?
She didn’t know. Everything felt uncertain.
Sometimes, it’s not until a pivotal moment passes that the world suddenly becomes unfamiliar—chaotic and impossible to face.
She didn’t want to go home. That meant facing her family’s disappointment. She stayed out, searching for other chances—but in this climate, most companies weren’t hiring. The best they could do was avoid layoffs.
After wasting an entire day, Helen finally had no choice but to return home and deliver the disheartening news to her family. She couldn’t even remember how she made it back to her doorstep.
After a long moment of mental preparation, she opened the door. The smell coming from the dining room only made her more uneasy—it was meant to celebrate her landing a good job, but she had come home with bad news.
She walked heavily into the living room, ready to admit she had let everyone down—only to be stunned at the sight of Lynch sitting there.
He was eating her mother’s specialty: beef ribs. Sitting casually at the table, he gripped the bone with his hand, gnawing at it with no concern for appearances, his mouth greasy with sauce.
Noticing her, Lynch put the bone down and grinned. “Hi!”
Helen’s eyes shimmered with tears. She froze for a second. “Hi…”