Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Furniture Is Taken Away

Ren Jifu awkwardly ushered Zhao Zejun and Ren Bida back into the house. He even made a show of taking the boiling kettle off the stove to make tea for Zhao Zejun, but after searching for a long time, he could only find a filthy plastic cup.

Zhao Zejun highly suspected that this cup served triple duty for drinking water, alcohol, and brushing teeth, and he had no intention of touching it.

He glanced at Ren Bida.

Ren Bida understood and said, “Cousin, Boss Zhao is genuinely here to buy your house. Don’t waste time with pointless nonsense about five hundred thousand or a million—do you think money grows on trees? To be frank, I’ve already sold mine. Your three houses have the same layout as mine. What price do you have in mind?”

Ren Jifu squinted his triangular eyes and asked, “How much did you sell for?”

Ren Bida looked to Zhao Zejun for approval. Zhao Zejun nodded, so Ren Bida replied, “Twenty-five thousand. Boss Zhao is straightforward.”

“That won’t do!” Ren Jifu leapt from his chair, pointing at the bare, desolate house and protesting loudly, “No matter how shabby my place is, at least it’s livable! Your house has been empty for over a decade—it can’t possibly be worth the same.”

Ren Bida sneered. “You think Boss Zhao is buying your house to live in it?”

“Oh, I get it—an investment, waiting for demolition, right? In that case, the price can’t be low.” Ren Jifu turned to Zhao Zejun. “Boss Zhao, just think: once Gaogang Village is slated for demolition, my three houses will instantly become commercial property. You spend a few tens of thousands and end up with several new apartments. Isn’t that an outrageous profit? If I sell to you for a pittance, you’ll be counting your money while I’m left with nothing but tears…”

Zhao Zejun cut him off midsentence, “You don’t need to explain the benefits of demolition to me. If it weren’t for the possibility of the area being redeveloped, who would want to buy property here? But you need to understand, there’s risk in investment. If the area is demolished, I stand to gain—but tell me, what if it isn’t? Or if I have to wait eight or ten years and my money is tied up here, will you compensate me for the loss?”

“How’s that my business if there’s no demolition? Why should I pay you?” Ren Jifu shouted.

Zhao Zejun glared at him. “Exactly. The profit is mine if things go well, and the loss is mine too—what’s it to you?”

With people like Ren Jifu, you couldn’t show the slightest weakness. If you were polite, he’d take you for a pushover and climb all over you, squeezing you for every last drop. Whether it was his impression from rumors in his previous life or the behavior he’d witnessed firsthand in this one, Zhao Zejun found this man thoroughly repugnant.

With Ren Bida and Da Xiang, Zhao Zejun could afford to be amiable and even let them make a little profit, provided his goals were met. But as for Ren Jifu, he saw no reason to grant him any face or let him benefit in the slightest.

Ren Jifu narrowed his eyes, thought for a moment, then softened his tone. “Boss Zhao, as you can see, these are the only three houses I own. If you buy them all, I’ll have nowhere to live—unlike my cousin, who has a place in the city and doesn’t care about his village property.”

Zhao Zejun nodded. “Now, that’s a reasonable point. Name your price.”

Ren Jifu’s eyes darted. “Boss Zhao, one price for all three houses—one hundred and fifty thousand.”

He finished, then stared intently at Zhao Zejun, watching for his reaction.

Ren Bida also turned his gaze to Zhao Zejun, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

He could see that the young man was sincere about buying and had the means. One hundred and fifty thousand sounded high, but there was obviously room for negotiation. Three houses, plus the yard—ten thousand or maybe eleven or twelve thousand would seal the deal. It was a solid investment.

However, if Zhao Zejun agreed to that price, then Ren Bida’s own house would certainly not have sold for just twenty-five thousand. Once a high price was set, subsequent purchases would only go up.

Zhao Zejun’s face remained expressionless, as if weighing the offer.

The three sat in silence for half a minute. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Ren Jifu could hardly bear it and was about to speak when Zhao Zejun interjected.

He turned to Ren Bida, “Mr. Ren, Gaogang Village has about two thousand households, right?”

“Roughly,” Ren Bida replied.

With confirmation, Zhao Zejun looked sharply at Ren Jifu, his smile fading to a cold edge. “I’m here to buy property, not do charity. And even if I were, it wouldn’t be for you. I’ve never heard of any house here selling for fifty thousand, let alone more. Do you really think if I walk out that door and shout that I’ll pay thirty thousand per house, I wouldn’t find plenty of willing sellers? If you’re just looking to gouge me, there’s no point in continuing this conversation.”

With two thousand families, there was no shortage of options. Ren Jifu could only say, “Then what’s your offer?”

Zhao Zejun replied coolly, “Didn’t Mr. Ren just say it? Twenty-five thousand per house—market price. Three makes seventy-five thousand. That’s enough for a decent apartment in the city. And since I’m buying in bulk, you should throw something in. Seventy thousand for all three.”

Ren Jifu instantly sprang up as if scalded, eyes wide, and shouted, “Impossible!”

Even Ren Bida was stunned—this young boss was a ruthless negotiator. Not only did he refuse to budge, but he’d even cut the price below the starting point.

“Then forget it. There are plenty of houses here—I can buy anywhere. Mr. Ren, let’s go,” Zhao Zejun said with a nonchalant shrug, rising once more as if to leave.

“Seventy thousand is too low. Cousin, help me out here,” Ren Jifu pleaded, looking to Ren Bida for support.

Ren Bida grinned at Zhao Zejun. “Boss Zhao, why not think it over?”

He, too, thought the price was low. Seventy thousand for three houses plus the yard was essentially four properties. If it were his, he’d expect at least a hundred thousand—he wouldn’t sell for seventy.

He figured Zhao Zejun was playing hard to get again.

But this time, Zhao Zejun was resolute. “Mr. Ren, to be honest, I’ll be making more purchases, and I’ll still need your help. I have money and can buy from anyone. Buying from him is a courtesy to you. Seventy thousand is my bottom line—not a penny more.”

At this, even Ren Bida knew there was no point in pushing further. There was no reason to offend a future client for the sake of a useless cousin. “It’s your call. Sell if you want; if not, forget it. But remember, this is a one-time opportunity. Think carefully.”

Ren Jifu thought of his mountain of gambling debts, gritted his teeth, and said, “Seventy thousand. Cash. Full payment.”

“Good. We’ll go through your cousin’s agency, so you don’t have to worry.”

As he spoke, Zhao Zejun seemed to remember something, gesturing to the few battered pieces of furniture in the room. Casually, he said, “By the way, do you want to take these, or leave them? If you want them, hire someone to move them out. If not, I’ll just sell them as scrap.”

A legless table, a plank bed, a few chairs, a coal stove, and some odds and ends of broken household wares.