Epiphanies of Rebirth - Chapter 33

What did an amount of two or three thousand yuan represent for Mother Zhou?

To put it simply: she had never seen that much liquid cash in her entire life.

Before Mother Zhou was laid off, she had earned 170 yuan a month working at the Liyun Thermos Factory. The couple’s combined earnings reached 400 yuan a month, and in the small, remote southern town this made them a high-income household. However, anyone who had a family, especially one with a child, knew that expenditures added up imperceptibly; after all the monthly expenses, there usually wasn’t much money left to put in their savings.

But this income still made many people not employed in the state-owned enterprises or factories very envious. In the 1990s, many farmers who laboured over the land might not even have earned 200 yuan a year (not counting food ration coupons).

Mother Zhou used to think that after getting laid off, her life had reached a dead end and that there would be no turn for the better. Lin Jingzhe and Hu Shaofeng’s remarks were casual, but they shook her to the core.

Hu Shaofeng’s in particular—he was obviously a Yan City native, and both his clothes and his manner screamed that he came from an affluent family and was well-versed in the ways of the world. His exclamation was so natural that it was hard for Mother Zhou to doubt his words.

No matter how humble and unassuming somebody was, they still subconsciously desired to better themselves. Inspired, Mother Zhou went back to discuss this matter with her husband.

Father Zhou vetoed it without thinking: “Nonsense! We’re upright and honest people, not some criminals!”

In his mind, the best possible occupation was to be a worker in a state-owned enterprise. The term “self-employment” had only appeared in the past decade, and in the early years, it was simply a synonym for “not engaging in honest work”. It was somewhat better in a metropolis like Yan City, but in the Liyun Town of the ‘80s, only former convicts and other such crooks who were unable to find honest jobs would run their own businesses. The common folk heard of a crime labeled “illegal speculation and profiteering”, but they were not really clear on what constituted as such—they only knew that many lawbreakers were jailed for hoarding, manipulating prices, and disrupting the market in order to make a big profit since the newspapers denounced them. Therefore, for the majority of the lower class, the words “private business” became anathema.

It was the same for Father Zhou. He would not even think of touching stocks; he was a typical representation of the working class in that era: a simple, law-abiding man with high integrity.

Mother Zhou was even more observant of traditional standards than him, but in addition to her apprehension, she was also excited. In all these years, it was the first time Zhou Haitang had left his parents’ side for a significant period of time, and he’d even gone to the faraway Yan City. Ever since her son left, she couldn’t sleep well and often woke up in the middle of the night, worried that something would happen to him and she wouldn’t know nor be able to help him. Opening a private business in Yan City was a huge temptation to her—how much money she could earn was secondary, the most important thing was that she could stay close to her son.

The strength of a mother was something to behold—Mother Zhou, who had always been obedient to her husband, defied his decision for the first time in her life.

While Father Zhou was still thinking about when the best time to leave Yan City was, Mother Zhou had already secretly launched into action.

She had only just arrived in this place and had no foundation, but because of her divine cooking skills, many housewives in the community would knock on her doors when it was time to start cooking dinner, like pilgrims visiting a temple to listen to holy scriptures. Mother Zhou was unassuming and honest, but it didn’t mean she was dull; after only a few days, she already had built good relationships with them.

In the kitchen, a pot of stewed pork belly with glass noodles simmered quietly. The pork belly had been pan fried until it turned golden brown, then was cooked with Mother Zhou’s homemade doubanjiang and chili sauce she brought with her from Liyun Town. After stir-frying it until the broth thickened into a gravy, the glass noodles were added and the dish was cooked slowly on low heat; the plain noodles absorbed the gravy and turned into soft, elastic, crystal-clear gold threads. The mouthwatering fragrance crept out into the corridor and flowed down the stairs, permeating throughout the whole building. It was still quite a long time until dinner, but many people heard their stomachs cry out for food.

The other residents wondered about the source of the savory smell. They didn’t know that from this day forward, every time the housewives would begin cooking, they would be subjected to a sweet and terrible torture.

The women in the kitchen stood in a circle and passed around a small bowl of stew to have a taste, “tasting” the whole bowl until it was empty after a few mouthfuls. The soft noodles were laden with gravy; like tiny artillery shells with amazing firepower, once they slipped into the mouth, they launched an unstoppable attack, erupting with flavor! Not to mention, they were cooked just right, neither too soft nor too chewy, perfect!

Watchful and reverent, the housewives carefully noted down everything Mother Zhou did, including mundane details like rinsing the noodles before adding them to the stew; they dared not to omit even the most trivial things.

Mother Zhou generously filled several bowls with stew so that her new friends could take some home when they left. As the housewives tried to figure out why their attempts had never turned out this delicious, she took off her cooking sleeves and stood there, nervously rubbing her hands. After a moment, she managed to pluck up enough courage to ask, “Sister Wang, Sister Chen, Sister Jin, do you think I would be able to earn some money with my food?”

Surprised, the women looked at their guileless friend—they could see through her thoughts at a glance. As Mother Zhou waited for their answer, anxious, Sister Chen, the neighbor from the sixth floor, slapped her thigh. “Of course you would! Why wouldn’t you?”

Mother Zhou was inevitably afraid that she was engaging in flights of fancy, especially after her husband’s reaction. Although she still insisted on trying, her confidence was much lower than in the beginning, and she was prepared to be told that she should give up. To her surprise, she actually got a positive response.

Well, of course! As early as ten years ago, when most residents of small towns had never even heard of “private businesses”, a large number of people in the capital had already taken the plunge—opening a business was something normal here! The local housewives’ outlooks were completely different to those back in Liyun Town; as soon as Mother Zhou asked her question, they immediately followed her line of thought.

Sister Chen continued, “Yes, this is a very good idea! With your craftsmanship, any restaurant would hire you as a cook on the spot! Or you can run your own business—though it would be more tiring and you would have to work harder, you would definitely earn much more than just working as a cook!”

Sister Wang echoed, “If you opened a shop nearby, and sold something popular like these noodles you made today, it would definitely be packed every day! This way, you wouldn’t have to go back to Qunnan but could stay with your son! Wouldn’t that be great?”

“Ah, forget about a shop for now—the rent has risen in recent years, we have to pay almost a thousand a year for ours.” Sister Jin, the oldest of the three, took a more pragmatic approach to the matter. “Why don’t we set up a street stall first, to test the waters and accumulate some funds? If the results are good, then it will be time to make bolder plans!”

The women in Yan City were straightforward and resolute—if they decided to do something, they acted without delay. The person who put forward the suggestion, Lin Jingzhe, hadn’t even begun to make plans, when they had already finished making all the preparations.

Setting up a stall was much simpler than opening a shop. Sister Wang helped Mother Zhou borrow a tricycle from an old carpenter in the community, Sister Chen returned to her apartment to find a briquette stove and briquettes, and Sister Jin took Mother Zhou to buy a batch of cheap aluminum pots and pans. The whole operation was carried out swiftly and covertly, without alerting Father Zhou.

Zhou Haitang’s phone call took Lin Jingzhe completely by surprise—he had just thrown out an idea, but never expected that Mother Zhou would move so fast. Knowing her character and worldview, he thought it would take a long time to convince her to give it a try!

{My mom set up a stall outside my school!} Zhou Haitang said, his voice thick with astonishment. {And on the snack street just next to the freshmen’s dormitory! There was such a commotion—everyone rushed out, even my roommates!}

“Commotion? What commotion?” Lin Jingzhe asked, confused.

Was there some kind of trouble?

{Ai-ya!} Zhou Haitang exclaimed, slapping his thigh. {Don’t you know how my mother cooks? Our dormitory is only separated from the snack street by a wall, and soon the whole building was filled with the smell. Once they took a whiff, it was like a stampede!}

“……”

Recalling Aunty Zhou’s craft, Lin Jingzhe could almost see the scene described by his friend.

The street at the west gate of Wutong University, behind the freshmen’s dormitory, had long become an unofficial snack street, discreetly operated by the local residents. Walking from one end to the other, you could find delicious snacks from all over the country: jianbing, deep-fried pancakes, grilled skewers, rice noodle rolls, zhajiangmian, guan chang, stinky tofu… The food here was cheap but delicious.

All the university’s cafeterias were far from the dorms and the meals served there tasted rather mediocre, so students were oftentimes more willing to eat on the snack street. The advantage of this location was easy to see.

It was the first time Mother Zhou had set up a stall, and she clearly was not prepared enough. Lin Jingzhe arrived not even an hour after Zhou Haitang called him, yet her stall was already swept clean, left only with several empty pots and a group of disappointed students who had queued up too late and hadn’t manage to buy anything.

She and several middle-aged women who came along to help had shell-shocked looks in their eyes. Mother Zhou sat on the crossbar of the tricycle, staring blankly at the large cookie tin in her hands, full of banknotes.

She was amazed—they only came here two hours ago!

What she had sold was the stewed pork belly with glass noodles, which had been unanimously praised the other day. Afraid that her husband would be suspicious, she didn’t cook at home, but borrowed Sister Jin’s kitchen on the first floor, and made two large pots of stew. The other women helped her move the pots covered with bamboo lids to the burning briquette stove at the rear-end of the tricycle, and kept an eye on the fire during the journey so it wouldn’t go out.

At the front of the tricycle, they put up a piece of cardboard as a sign. Sister Jin wrote on it with a brush, ‘Pork belly noodles, 80 cents for 1 portion’.

At first, Mother Zhou thought this price was ridiculously expensive. Unexpectedly, several uncles drinking tea and cooling off in the shade hailed them before they even came to the intersection and bought a few portions.

By the time the tricycle arrived at the school, one-third of the stew was already gone. The stove kept the aluminium pots hot, the dish inside cooked just right: the noodles were soft and sticky, the broth nearly boiled down and reduced to a thick, savory sauce. The bamboo lids could hardly keep the rich fragrance from escaping.

Mother Zhou had originally intended to leave some aside for her son and his roommates and deliver it to them later, but the students of Wutong University didn’t give her the opportunity. For a stretch of time, she mechanically repeated several steps—folding the oiled paper into a cone, scooping up noodles, sticking in a bamboo pick, and collecting the money.

It was only after she sold out that she remembered she had forgotten to save some food for her son!

When she came home, she took the tin and counted the money, gently smoothing out the banknotes. She arranged them in stacks according to denominations: one, two, and five jiao, then one and two yuan. By the time she was done, she had a sizable pile of money in front of her!

Eighty-seven yuan and two jiao!

A whole eighty-seven yuan!!!

The raw ingredients she bought at the farmer’s market cost only fourteen yuan and two jiao in total!

I earned a full seventy-three yuan in one day… no, in a few hours?!

Mother Zhou had no knowledge of how the market economy worked; before she set up the stall today, buried underneath her determination to give it a try, there was still some uneasiness and fear over the unfamiliar situation. However, there was nothing more straightforward and simpler to understand than money—these piles of banknotes laid a strong foundation for her timid heart to build on!

In the evening, when Father Zhou, who had gone to the train station to check the schedule and the prices of tickets, returned home, she was waiting for him in the living room, filled with an unprecedented resolve. When her husband came in, she threw the stacks of money on the table directly in front of him.

For Zhou Haitang’s tuition and living expenses, they borrowed money from everyone who was willing to lend to them; after Father Zhou lost his job, returning it became a huge problem. The Zhou couple were good-hearted and thoughtful people—even though they could barely make the ends meet, they were determined to pay the money back as soon as possible. After being laid off, Father Zhou spent many sleepless nights worrying about this matter.

That night, Father Zhou did not sleep either—he spent it leaning against the wall in the corridor, looking at the moon and smoking until his eyes were bloodshot and his throat was hoarse.

The next morning, Mother Zhou went to the market to buy ingredients, this time a larger amount than the previous day. When she came back, she heard the crisp sound of pots clanging against each other.

She paused, then looked for the source of the noise, the grocery bags still in her hands.

In the kitchen, Father Zhou, with his sleeves rolled up, was scrubbing the large aluminium pots she used at the stall. He looked haggard and had a half-smoked cigarette in his mouth, taking a drag from it from time to time.

He glanced up at the door from behind the curls of smoke. Seeing his wife, his expression didn’t change much, but the cigarette butt hanging from his lips quivered slightly as he spoke, “Give me the meat, I’ll wash it.”

When the relieved smile appeared on Mother Zhou’s face, one could catch a glimpse of the beauty she was in her younger years.

A street stall with particularly delicious food had opened on the snack street next to Wutong University!

Even Lin Jingzhe’s roommates knew about it.

The chubby Lu Xiaojiang was a serious foodie and would wander around Yan City looking for tasty food whenever there were no classes. Therefore, after hearing the news, he headed for Wutong University; upon returning, he sung praises of the rumored stall. “They didn’t lie, the food there really is delicious!”

He was hardly the only one—just like him, many students from universities in the area made a trip to have a taste of the heavenly food from Mother Zhou’s stall.

Mother Zhou’s business was very good, and now that Father Zhou was helping, her work was much easier. At that time, disposable tableware was not widely available yet, so selling semi-liquid food like the pork belly stew was inconvenient. Since this was the case, the following day Mother Zhou only prepared fried food, like Liyun-style stir-fried noodles and meat patties. However, because most of the students strongly disapproved of the stew’s removal from the menu, Mother Zhou bowed to the will of the masses and added it back, only requesting that the customers bring their own containers. She also didn’t take advantage of its popularity to raise the price—it remained a reasonable 80 cents for a big ladleful.

Lu Xiaojiang rushed out of the room before 8 a.m. with a big enamel cup—to queue up, he said. As a loyal friend, he didn’t forget about his buddies and brought back a whole four yuan-worth of the stew, which resulted in the scene of Wang Jun and Chen Jiankang shoveling in food as if they had starved for at least a month. Lin Jingzhe also ate some; sure enough, it was a nostalgic, familiar taste.

It hadn’t been long since the stall opened, yet Lin Jingzhe heard that the Zhou couple already started sending money back to Liyun Town to repay their debts; they clearly intended to make the stall a long term business. Well, it wasn’t really surprising—was there anyone in this world who hated earning money? Father Zhou’s plan to get a job at the construction site in Qunnan City had clearly been abandoned. What’s more, because the stall was getting busier and busier, they even began to consider asking Gao Sheng’s father to give up his job on the construction site and come to Yan City to set up a business partnership with them.

Hearing them come up with this idea, the worry that had been plaguing Lin Jingzhe for a long time finally disappeared. In the early nineties, doing business was extremely easy, and with Mother Zhou’s cooking skills, it was impossible for them to make a loss. Their small business would only grow larger in scale, and Lin Jingzhe would naturally advise them on the most advantageous pathways for development; it was only a matter of time before they expanded to something bigger than a street stall. Now, if Gao Sheng’s father came to Yan City as well, everything would be just dandy.

The fatal accident that happened in his last life was like an invisible sword hanging over Gao Sheng’s father’s head, even if the man didn’t know it—the sooner he escaped it, the better.

Everyone was doing better and better… Well, maybe except for poor Zhou Haitang whose parents, still believing in Lin Jingzhe’s nonsense, watched him like hawks to keep him from “straying onto the wrong path”.

Anyway, Lin Jingzhe could finally stop worrying about them and focus on his own affairs.

The land auction was about to be held soon—he needed to liquidate his assets.

Fifteen new stocks were listed at Shen City Stock Exchange, somewhat alleviating the awkward situation of the daily trading volume dropping close to zero after the short period of time when the exchange had opened. The stock market, completely chaotic in the beginning, was much more regulated now, and the crazy unhealthy growth of prices had been contained; right now, it was basically in a benign state of prices rising steadily every day but not violently fluctuating.

With the stock he bought from Lin Jingzhe, Tian Dahua had already earned more than 600,000 yuan! In addition, its worth was still slowly going up! He made such a big profit for the first time, and it was all thanks to Lin Jingzhe who had allowed him to board this “bus” that he’d almost missed, so he was deeply grateful to the youth.

He was shocked to learn that Lin Jingzhe wanted to sell all the shares he owned. However, though Tian Dahua was surprised, he didn’t ask much and immediately set about arranging the sale.

Unfortunately, he himself couldn’t swallow such a large amount of shares, but that didn’t matter. The stock market in Shen City was developing well. Recently, a group of affluent players had entered the game field, and Aeon Technology’s stock was very popular, so it wouldn’t be hard to dump it.

Lin Jingzhe made another trip to Shen City, to turn the stock in his hands into money in his account. The buyer was covering the handling fee, so he finally managed to get more than 2.9 million

The other party could be described as a typical major-league investor—not tight-fisted, daring to make big investments, and with solid financial strength and clear goals. As everyone chatted, the conversation drifted to the stock exchange in the special economic zone, which had opened a month ago and was said to be just as popular as the one in Shen City. It seemed that the financial sector in China, which used to be almost non-existent, had lifted its head and was beginning to thrive.

Tian Dahua was impressed by the various professional analyses in the other party’s discourse, but as Lin Jingzhe listened, his heart was sinking. He knew that the appearance of such a person meant that big-shot financial securities players were already targeting the domestic market.

All in all, Tian Dahua really did render him much help, so before Lin Jingzhe left, he reminded the man earnestly, “Mr. Tian, remember—when the time comes to make a big decision, you should not choose greed.”

Tian Dahua was accompanying him to the boarding gate. Hearing Lin Jingzhe’s words, he looked at him, confused, only to see a meaningful smile on the youth’s face.

After Lin Jingzhe left, he stood in the airport for a long time, dazed. Although he didn’t know why the young man would say this, the vigilance in his heart broke through the joy and satisfaction he’d been basking in lately.

Lin Jingzhe, who believed that he and Xiao Chi “parted in disagreement”, was sure their cooperation had fallen through. Time was too short for him to look for a new collaborator, so he found someone to help him check the private lending market in Yan City.

In those days, private lending was still a gray area—everything outwardly looked legal, but in essence, it was the same as usury. On top of that, all the private moneylenders in Yan City had relationships with the underworld, so dealing with them was very dangerous. Unfortunately, despite being reborn, the crazy soul hidden under Lin Jingzhe’s innocent appearance hadn’t changed.

Everything he’d gone through in his last life made him more rational, but it also honed him even sharper.

Fortunately, before he made a move, Fang Wenhao brought back news that made him give up this risky plan.

“Brother Xiao said, when you have time, come to his company to sign the cooperation contract,” Fang Wenhao relayed, still in shock. He was convinced that both Xiao Chi and Hu Shaofeng were suffering from a sudden bout of insanity.

It was over five million yuan!

They were really fucking ready to gamble with it?!

Fang Wenhao had no idea how Xiao Chi was able to get so rich. They were both the same age and opened companies around the same time. However, his own Boundless Realty Group that he’d worked so hard to expand was barely medium-sized, while Xiao Chi’s Flux Realty had already developed several large projects outside the province, and its market value was several times higher than that of Boundless Realty Group.

Fang Wenhao was a boss of his company, but Hu Shaofeng, who was just one of Flux Realty’s shareholders, was richer than him—he could throw around money to grab the land he wanted to grab, invest in what he wanted to invest, and basically do whatever he wanted. Fang Wenhao thought about Flux Realty’s turnover that was much higher every quarter, then recalled the foul atmosphere and quarrels at every shareholders’ meeting in his own company, and really felt that the old adage was true: you should be be happy with your accomplishments and not compare yourself to others, because it would just make you feel inferior.

Lin Jingzhe was just as surprised—last time, Xiao Chi had acted like that, but it turned out that he was willing to cooperate after all?!

That man’s personality was really weird; he seemed to dislike Lin Jingzhe so much that he was unwilling to take back the rosary Lin Jingzhe touched, but at the same time, he was able to calmly and rationally discuss business with Lin Jingzhe, not letting this dislike influence his decisions.

Despite their personal grudges, this made Lin Jingzhe change his opinion of Xiao Chi a little bit.

And to be honest, most of the time, the other party appeared very reliable.

When signing the contract, the two sat opposite each other. Lin Jingzhe read over the document after the lawyer finished reading it, and then carefully signed it. It was the first time he was handling such a large sum of money after his rebirth.

After he signed, Xiao Chi signed it as well, then both sides stood up to shake hands.

Feeling the cool palm touch his own and slip away right after, Xiao Chi calmly retracted his hand. “Happy cooperation,” he said.

Lin Jingzhe felt like he could finally understand why Fang Wenhao was always saying that Xiao Chi was a hundred times more mature and reliable than Hu Shaofeng.

Smiling slightly, he replied, “Happy cooperation.”

Xiao Chi: “!!!”

Amitabha.

He inwardly shook himself off and said, “The money will be sent to you before the month’s end, we will also provide assistance with the formalities of the auction.”

Lin Jingzhe’s smile became more sincere. “Thank you, I’d really appreciate that.”

Aaah, his teeth! These small, even, white teeth are so good-looking!

Xiao Chi couldn’t look away from Lin Jingzhe’s “rabbit teeth” for a while, but he found that the youth still wasn’t wearing the beads he had given him.

As the short meeting broke up, while no one was paying attention, he quietly approached Lin Jingzhe and asked, “Where are my prayer beads?”

So in the end, do you want them or not?! Lin Jingzhe exclaimed silently, impatient. But since Xiao Chi very generously gave him five million yuan ten minutes ago, he stifled his irritation and took the rosary out of his pocket, letting it hang from his upturned palm.

“I brought them. Here,” he said.

This rosary is very auspicious! Xiao Chi was both a little angry that Lin Jingzhe didn’t wear it and a little happy that he was carrying it with him. Okay, so today, he was both happy and angry with the other man!

He glanced at Lin Jingzhe’s palm, then at the youth’s bemused expression, and pursed his lips. Without a word more, he turned around and left!

His back looked very forlorn!

Lin Jingzhe, left behind with the string of prayer beads in his hand: “……”

He felt he might’ve been too hasty when he called the other man reliable.

Translator’s Note:
While not stated outright, the land auction LJZ is participating in should be a first-price sealed-bid auction (also known as blind auction). In this type of auction, all bidders simultaneously submit sealed bids, so that no bidder knows the bid of any other participant. The highest bidder pays the price they submitted.× Dismiss alert
Lin Jingzhe, who had successfully obtained the qualification, was able to participate in Yan City’s quarterly land auction. When paying the security deposit, he appropriately increased his bid in order to avoid accidents—Lot No. 9 was estimated to be sold at 6.5 million, and the bid he put forward was 6.9 million.

No matter how unattractive Lot No. 9 was, it was impossible that absolutely no one would want it, and this extra 400,000 would hugely increase his chances. As it turned out, this precaution was correct—when the bids were read out, in the beginning, there were several people competing with him, but as the price rose over 6.8 million, the bids gradually died down, allowing him to smoothly win his coveted plot.

Many businessmen, thinking that nobody would fight for this piece of land, submitted bids equal or slightly higher than the reserve price as they would still make a profit if they got it this cheap, but their scheme failed. While secretly scolding their fellow bidders for their earlier hypocrisy, when they behaved as if they were utterly uninterested in Lot No. 9, yet still submitted a bid, they also wondered who was so unconcerned with money—or foolish—to be willing to overpay for this useless land by 400,000 yuan.

It was the first time the real estate developers in Yan City were hearing the name “New Beginnings Real Estate”; no one knew when this strange company had appeared, nor the name and background of its boss. However, they were all relieved when they found that the competitor who won Lot No. 9 was such a small company.

In business, especially real estate business, the most important thing was news about new government policies and regulation. If Lot No. 9 had been taken by a large company, then without a doubt, the very next day, the whole of Yan City would be ripe with speculations about the upcoming development of the north side of the city.

But since New Beginnings Real Estate was a small, unknown business…

Well, Lot No. 9 was the cheapest plot of land in this auction. It was highly likely that New Beginnings, unable to swallow a big fish, simply had no choice but to settle for a shrimp.

It was, however, worth mentioning that at this auction, Flux Realty also obtained several pieces of land located in the north section of the city, surprising everyone.

This news secretly shook the real estate industry in Yan City. Ever since Flux Realty had been established, there were rumors about it having a deep background; later, its smooth and successful development seemed to confirm this speculation.

Since it was making a move now, was the north side really going to be developed, after so many years of nothing happening?

The problem was, though the plots Flux Realty acquired weren’t the most sought-after, they were pretty popular because of their size, and while the bids were large enough to show that the company was determined to get them, they were still within a reasonable price range. It was enough to make other real estate companies speculate, but not enough for them to draw any definite conclusion.

Xiao Chi got three plots of land in total; after the auction ended, Hu Shaofeng was still cross-eyed, immersed in shock at his friend spending money like dirt.

Why would you get so much land in the north?! And what do you plan to do with them now that you have them? The property development division already has their hands full, you know?!

He was so unsettled that he couldn’t help actually asking this aloud, but Xiao Chi just placidly replied, “Nothing for now. There’s no hurry.”

No hurry? No hurry? You just plowed tens of millions of funds into them, and now you’re saying you’re going to just let them lie around?!

The student union members had fought yet another battle because of a difference in opinions. Hu Shaofeng, tired out from arguing, sat in the corner, smoking. He was still worried about the land matter, and he couldn’t help but complain.

“…Tens of millions yuan, can you imagine? I really have no idea what Brother Xiao is thinking. Is he sick?”

After blurting this out, he realized what he had just said and glared threateningly at Fang Wenhao who was sitting next to him. “If you fucking dare to tattle to Brother Xiao about what I just said, I promise I’ll beat you to death.”

“Shut up,” Fang Wenhao growled back, just as worried. He snatched the smoke stub from Hu Shaofeng’s mouth to light his own cigarette and took a drag, then leaned over with his elbows on his knees, looking weary. “As if I have time to fucking bother about you. Do you know what Lin Jingzhe did? I think he’s sick, too.”

Hu Shaofeng looked at him, surprised. “Lin Jingzhe? What did he do?”

“He fucking used Lot No. 9 as collateral to borrow 20 million. I don’t know which bastard helped him do this.” When Fang Wenhao found out about this, he couldn’t sleep well for three days. He held his forehead and repeated, “Twenty million!”

Both of them were familiar with this method, as it was quite common in the real estate industry—it was almost an established practice for developers to borrow money against their land in order to obtain funds to begin property development of that same land. But no matter how common this practice was, it couldn’t conceal the madness within, since anyone willing to do this was basically a gambler willing to bet everything on a single throw. Though Hu Shaofeng usually acted overbearing and cocksure, he was frightened every time he watched Brother Xiao go through mortgage formalities to leverage his investments.

Unexpectedly, Lin Jingzhe dared to play like that as well?

The youth’s innocent, harmless appearance flashed through Hu Shaofeng’s mind, and he couldn’t help but exhale, a stunned look on his face. “Fucking hell.”

Then he recalled something and sat up straight. “Wait, didn’t he say he wasn’t going to develop Lot No. 9? What does he need so much money for?” he asked.

Fang Wenhao let out a heavy sigh. “Aren’t there some real estate developers who bought land in the north side six years ago? They’re all too happy to sell it, and Lin Jingzhe said he wants to get it all.”

Shocked, Hu Shaofeng fell back against the wall again, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Fang Wenhao like good brothers.

Lin Jingzhe was using leveraged funds to grab real estate? The process was different, but his purpose was clearly the same as Xiao Chi’s. Were they crazy? How could they be so fearless? In this way, the capital and the land were closely tied—like a tightrope walker, any accident could plunge them into an abyss.

The other players at the table were still hesitating about whether they wanted to enter the game, yet Lin Jingzhe and Xiao Chi had already staked all their chips. And really, this analogy fit perfectly because what could their actions be called if not a huge gamble?

Hu Shaofeng was somewhat used to Xiao Chi’s madness, but Lin Jingzhe’s boldness still shocked him. He sat in the same posture as Fang Wenhao, both of them with a cigarette in their fingers and radiating the aura of old, experienced travelers who had experienced many winds and waves and had already seen through the vanities of life.

Hu Shaofeng thought about all the things Xiao Chi did in the past.

Fang Wenhao recalled Lin Jingzhe performing several shocking stunts without batting an eye…

After a while, the two exclaimed in unison, “Madmen.”