904: Chapter 497: Waiting Isn’t My Style_3 904: Chapter 497: Waiting Isn’t My Style_3 As for hearing so people plotting to “take care” of him in the future, he simply didn’t care.
If they wanted revenge, they would need the ti and the ability to do so…
He was just raising cattle peacefully, not bothering anyone or causing trouble, and yet soone had the audacity to co along and demand how he should be treated.
It was as if he were their cowherd boy, did fairness even exist anymore?
These people were too full of “master syndro,” acting as if they truly owned him, treating everything as if it were theirs.
In the past few days, not one person had said a good word about Boss Yan; it was as if not doing what they said, not listening to their words, made him a sinner beyond redemption.
The case hadn’t even started, and already people were coming up with ideas, like checking the environntally friendly practices, fire safety, taxes, and so on in the cattle farm, one thing after another.
They claid it was to let him know “who’s boss,” to show him that he can’t twist the arm of power.
Let him know “who’s boss” indeed!
To hell with that, after all those approaches, could he still peacefully raise cattle at his farm?
The more he heard, the angrier he beca, yet the more he suppressed his rage, intending to extract even more from them.
If he didn’t root out this nest of vermin, he would be doing an injustice to his great-grandfather’s great-grandfather and to the many Ghost Head Knives that his grandfather’s father had strived so hard to forge.
After two days and nights of tireless effort, he felt he had almost finished his task; what remained was to circle around a vast detour and prepare sothing else.
Sotis, the saying that those who spend money are kings holds true.
In Gao City’s small technology town, Old Li, who sold copy machines, felt just that; he now believed he might have truly encountered a “big boss.” Even though it was autumn, his mood was fluttering like a butterfly in bright spring sunshine.
So might say that selling copy machines was high-tech business, always referring to Old Li as having made it big, now a boss in the technology town.
But Old Li knew first hand what it ant to “puff up one’s cheeks to appear fat,” the very epito of that saying.
Copy machines were easy to sell, in principle.
If you had so connections and could secure procurent orders from organizations, the business was genuinely good: selling one machine was like selling several, it made more money and less trouble, and as your network widened, the business got even better—this didn’t need explanation, anyone involved knew what was necessary.
But without any connections, if you just waited in the store for custors, then you’d be waiting for ages!
Maybe till the end of ti, maybe till the seas dried and rocks crumbled, you might encounter one or two custors—that’s how difficult it was to sell these things nowadays; many had never even heard of such a device!
Thus, Old Li spent most of his days in the shop half asleep; his real earnings ca at night.
Every night, irrespective of the weather, he would put on his grey big jacket, his special evening work attire.
Fearing recognition, though not nearsighted, he would put on a pair of tea-colored glasses.
Sewn inside the big jacket were several bulging pockets—all filled with rchandise prepared for night-ti sale.
The thod of selling was simple.
In the alley beside the technology market, he would ask anyone he saw, “Bro, want so discs?
The latest blockbusters have arrived, absolutely clear versions.
No worries if you’re not interested, I have other stuff, you know, those kinds of discs?
East or west, I’ve got them, super high clarity, you can see everything…”
Life was truly arduous!
It wasn’t easy being the boss.
So when a young man rushed over and asked which copy machine had good quality and speed, Old Li treated him with the utmost respect: “Brother, don’t rush, let pour you a glass of water.
I’ll explain all the product features and prices to you, then you can decide what you want, okay?”
It wasn’t that Old Li loved playing the sycophant, being a market regular and moonlighting as a pirate disk dealer; he definitely had the eye for it.
The mont this lad ca over, his presence was different—you could tell he was looking to buy.
Given that, Old Li didn’t mind spending ti elaborating and explaining in detail—what did it matter?
Indeed, the young man listened attentively and afterward asked, “I don’t know how to use one, could you teach on the spot after I buy it?”
“No problem, as soon as you decide to buy, I’ll set it up for you and demonstrate, ensuring you can operate it straight away once you get ho,” answered Old Li, without bothering to ask whether the young man wanted the cheapest or the most expensive machine—he could tell just by looking that the young man had barely glanced at the cheaper goods.
The next mont he knew his hunch was correct.
The young man imdiately whipped out the cash: “Write a receipt, and I’ll co to you if there’s a problem later on.
I’ll take this one, open it up and show how to use it, please!”
After a busy demonstration, Old Li took the ti to explain and guide the young man, going over even the common issues that might arise with the machine, since he didn’t seem to be in a rush.
Although it was strange at the end when the young man asked him to drop the delivery at an oddly specific place, saying a truck would co to pick it up, why should he care too much?
The young man who bought the copy machine, who wasn’t ordinarily busy, then appeared in another city, casually inquiring and purchasing a nearly obsolete gadget—a small generator.
It was that old-fashioned type of generator you start by wrapping a small string around a couple of tis and then yanking it forcefully; shrieking, it would generate electricity.
The device wasn’t expensive and it even ca with a compatible voltage stabilizer, the whole set didn’t cost much.
With all his equipnt in hand, the young man—none other than Boss Yan—returned to Provincial City, setting off a major operation.
To the people of Provincial City, that night was no different from any other.
But Boss Yan’s moves ant that when people woke from their dreams the next day, so began to go mad.
The more problems that were uncovered, the madder these people beca.
All those secrets, those life-and-death matters for so, no matter how well-hidden or locked away in safes, whether tucked away in wall crevices or stashed in other properties, it all vanished into thin air, as if by magic…
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