How Lu Chuan Chose to Live After Rebirth and Mr. Fang Introduced Himself

Lu Chuan tossed his car keys onto the table.

He washed his face, droplets running down his chin and dripping into the sink.

He grabbed a towel and dried off, then pulled out a chair and sat down at his computer.

He began to crunch the numbers.

The demolition compensation had totaled ten million yuan.

The white Bentley Continental GT, including the car itself, insurance, transfer of ownership, and preparation, had cost 2.8 million.

That left 7.2 million in his account.

To an ordinary person, that was an enormous sum, enough to lie flat for a good portion of their life.

But if he actually used it to buy that spacious apartment at Quiet Garden, money would be tight.

The total price was twenty million.

If he paid the minimum down payment, added in all the taxes and miscellaneous fees, and set aside a cushion for living expenses...

Once he sank that seven-plus million into it, he would have almost nothing left.

Lu Chuan stared at the spreadsheet on his computer screen.

His fingers tapped lightly on the mouse.

A moment later,

He picked up a pen from the table and wrote down his thoughts with forceful strokes.

First, he had to get the apartment at Quiet Garden.

Second, he absolutely could not run out of cash flow.

Third, once the apartment was settled, he had to go make that quick money in crude oil futures.

Lu Chuan did not think buying a car and paying a down payment on an apartment with his demolition compensation was showing off.

Having returned through rebirth, he only wanted to live comfortably and at ease. He could invest all ten million to make money, then put up with living in a rented room and riding a little yellow bike. But if he came back to life only to become a slave to money, living on edge and in misery, what was the point of being reborn? How would he be any different from his previous life? That was not the life he wanted.

Besides, he did not dare stake all his money on futures. If his memory was off, or the butterfly effect caused fluctuations in the market, he would not even have a trump card left to recover his losses.

Lu Chuan did not hesitate for a moment.

He picked up his phone, found Mr. Fang's number in his contacts, and called.

The call connected quickly.

"Mr. Fang, it's me, Lu Chuan."

"Mm."

It was quiet in the background on Mr. Fang's end.

"Have you made up your mind?"

"I have."

Lu Chuan looked at the paper on the table, his voice steady.

"I want to buy your apartment."

Before Mr. Fang could respond, Lu Chuan laid out his terms.

"But I'm planning to take out a mortgage and pay the minimum down payment. If it's convenient tomorrow, I'll come over and sign the contract."

There was a pause of about two seconds on the other end.

Mr. Fang showed not the slightest contempt or unusual reaction at the word "mortgage."

He was an old hand who had spent years struggling through the sea of business.

"You want to preserve your cash flow?"

"Yes."

"Do you have plans for it later?"

"I do."

Lu Chuan did not elaborate. That was his own trump card.

Mr. Fang did not press him further.

"You're doing the right thing."

There was not a trace of impatience in Mr. Fang's voice. Instead, it held a hint of undisguised admiration.

Lu Chuan chuckled softly.

"That's why I wanted to make it clear beforehand, so there won't be any trouble when we go through the process tomorrow."

"Come over tomorrow afternoon."

Mr. Fang settled the matter on the spot.

"I know someone at the bank. I'll have her come over with the paperwork. You won't have to make trip after trip to get the approvals yourself. Just remember to bring all your documents."

"All right."

"Your ID card, bank card, and bank statements. Don't be late."

"Got it."

The call ended.

The room fell quiet again.

The next afternoon,

Jiangcheng's sun was as scorching as ever.

A pure white Bentley Continental GT drove smoothly along the main road and into the neighborhood where Quiet Garden was located.

The cabin was utterly quiet.

The top-of-the-line double-layer laminated glass completely shut out the cicadas and tire noise outside.

As he passed near the Jiang University campus, Lu Chuan glanced at the time on the dashboard.

Once he moved into Quiet Garden, he really would be close to school. If he avoided the morning rush hour, he could step on the gas and get there in a little over ten minutes.

The car slowly approached the entrance to Quiet Garden.

Through the windshield, Lu Chuan spotted two people standing in the shade of a tree by the roadside.

Mr. Fang wore a light gray, short-sleeved shirt and stood tall and straight.

Beside him stood a woman in her thirties, dressed in a smart business suit and holding a thick folder. She was evidently the account manager the bank had sent to handle the matter.

Lu Chuan turned the wheel and slowly pulled over.

He lowered the window.

"Mr. Fang."

Lu Chuan gave a nod.

Mr. Fang glanced at Lu Chuan.

Immediately afterward,

His gaze inevitably swept over the long, wide white coupe and the distinctly blue-and-black license plate on its front.

Jiang A·54321.

An extremely subtle glint flashed in Mr. Fang's eyes.

A car of this caliber, a license plate with consecutive numbers.

He had seen far too many of them.

But what truly made him take a higher view of Lu Chuan was not how expensive the car was.

It was how Lu Chuan carried himself in the driver's seat.

The kid was far too calm.

He showed none of the swagger of an eighteen-year-old who had just picked up a luxury car and could hardly wait to floor it and blast out a sonic boom.

He pulled into a parking space, shifted gears, shut off the engine, got out, and locked the door.

The whole sequence flowed as smoothly as clouds and water, without any deliberate dawdling or showing off.

Mr. Fang nodded inwardly before making the introduction.

"This is Manager Chen from Jiangcheng Bank."

"Manager Chen."

Lu Chuan took the initiative to greet her.

Manager Chen stepped forward half a pace, her face wreathed in smiles, and held out her hand.

"Mr. Lu, you're truly young and accomplished."

The two briefly shook hands.

"Let's go upstairs first."

Mr. Fang did not linger downstairs exchanging pleasantries. He turned and led the way.

The three entered the elevator together and headed straight for the spacious apartment.

When the door swung open,

The living room was as bright, airy, and pleasantly lit as it had been when Lu Chuan viewed it yesterday.

A faint scent of agarwood hung in the air.

Mr. Fang walked over to the enormous solid-wood table and pulled out a chair.

Manager Chen immediately got to work, laying out the contracts and review forms from her folder one sheet at a time.

"Mr. Lu, sorry for the trouble, but could you give me your ID card and bank statements so I can check them?"

Lu Chuan pulled out a chair and sat down, handing over the document envelope he had brought.

At first,

The smile on Manager Chen's face was merely the standard courtesy drilled into her through professional training.

But when she pulled out Lu Chuan's bank statements and proof of account balance and glanced down at them,

Her movements noticeably paused.

A flash of undisguisable surprise passed through the depths of her eyes.

Then,

When she looked up at Lu Chuan again, her courtesy had taken on a note of genuine awe.

The account was far too clean!

There was more than seven million in cash sitting in it.

The transaction history was clear and straightforward, with none of those messy bridge loans, triangular debts, or unusually large deposits and withdrawals.

A young man who had just turned eighteen held such an enormous and clean sum of cash.

"There won't be any problem with the loan."

Manager Chen put the documents back in order, her tone growing even more respectful.

"Your qualifications are excellent. We'll put you straight through our internal fast track. It'll be much quicker."

"We'll set the down payment at the minimum of twenty percent."

Lu Chuan nodded.

"Sorry for the trouble, then."

"It's no trouble at all."

Manager Chen waved her hands repeatedly, beaming.

"Mr. Fang spoke to us in advance. I'll personally keep an eye on the loan disbursement."

Next came the most crucial part: signing the contract.

Mr. Fang laid out the terms one by one.

The price was exactly twenty million.

Ownership of the parking space.

Which valuable furnishings throughout the apartment would remain.

Who would bear the taxes and fees, and the final handover date.

Nothing was concealed; everything was perfectly clear.

Lu Chuan picked up the thick purchase contract.

He did not put on an act by flipping straight to the last page and signing, nor did he pick over every word and sentence like a novice.

His gaze lingered briefly on several key clauses, and he confirmed that everything was in order.

Then,

He pulled the cap off the pen and signed his name in bold, sweeping strokes in the signature field.

He signed and pressed down his fingerprint.

There was no back-and-forth, no testing the waters, and certainly none of the awkwardness or haggling that came with a transaction as large as twenty million.

The entire process was so quick that even Manager Chen, standing nearby, could not help giving him a few extra glances.

She had worked at the bank for many years and seen far too many rich second-generation heirs his age. No matter how well-off their families were, when they actually faced a contract worth tens of millions, their hands would shake at least a little.

Yet the young man before her was as seasoned as an operator who had spent years making swift, decisive moves in the business world.

Mr. Fang watched Lu Chuan finish signing and did not waste a word.

He picked up the pen, signed and pressed down his fingerprint in turn, then put away his copy of the contract.

By the time they had gone through the whole process,

Not even an hour had passed.

Manager Chen put all the documents back into her briefcase and stood up.

"I'll follow up on the remaining approval and disbursement process."

She looked at Lu Chuan.

"Mr. Lu, you just need to keep your phone on. If any additional signatures are needed, I'll let you know in advance. It won't hold things up."

"All right."

Manager Chen was exceptionally perceptive.

With the business concluded, she knew the two men might still have things to discuss. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she tactfully went downstairs first.

The security door clicked shut.

Only Lu Chuan and Mr. Fang remained in the spacious apartment.

The living room fell quiet.

Even the faint sound of the kettle boiling on the long table could be heard clearly.

Mr. Fang was in no hurry to see his guest out.

He walked over to the tea table, picked up the kettle, and poured boiling water into the purple clay teapot with unhurried movements.

He rinsed the tea leaves and warmed the cups.

Lu Chuan was in no hurry to speak either. He tucked the signed home purchase contract into the document folder and set it aside.

Steam rose in curls.

Mr. Fang picked up a small teacup with wooden tongs.

"Sit."

Lu Chuan walked over and sat down on the other side of the long table.

Clear, golden-yellow tea flowed into the cup, carrying an exceedingly faint aged aroma.

The air in the room was pleasant.

The mingled scents of wood, paper, and tea gave the room a reassuring feel.

Mr. Fang pushed the teacup in front of Lu Chuan.

He sat up straight, as though making casual conversation.

"That's a nice car you have."

Lu Chuan picked up his teacup.

"I just took delivery yesterday."

"I didn't see you driving it when you came to look at the house yesterday."

Mr. Fang looked at him.

"I just bought it secondhand."

Lu Chuan took a sip of hot tea, his tone perfectly even.

"I bought it to get around. I wanted good soundproofing and comfort."

After hearing his answer, Mr. Fang stared at Lu Chuan for two seconds.

Then he laughed out loud.

"Using a Bentley Continental worth several million as a runabout."

Mr. Fang shook his head.

"You make it sound so casual, but people out there wouldn't believe you if you told them."

"Cars are bought to be driven."

Lu Chuan set down his teacup.

"If we're really talking about showing off, a Bentley isn't all that flashy in Jiangcheng."

"That's true."

Mr. Fang nodded in full agreement.

"Judging by your bearing, you really don't seem like the type who enjoys tearing around town in a sports car, making a racket."

Mr. Fang picked up his teacup and turned it in his hand.

A hint of veiled inquiry entered his tone.

"Has your family always given you this much free rein?"

Lu Chuan knew that what he was asking had nothing to do with the surface meaning of the question.

He was trying to size him up.

But he didn't want anyone to know that both his parents were dead.

"It has nothing to do with my family."

Lu Chuan looked Mr. Fang in the eyes, his expression open.

"I just want to be a little more deliberate about how I spend my money."

Mr. Fang raised an eyebrow slightly.

"So you carefully calculated the costs and took out a loan to buy this twenty-million house."

"Then you bought a Bentley?"

Lu Chuan offered a set of airtight reasoning.

"I have to keep enough cash on hand. I have other things to work on later. The money for the car is nothing, but you can't block your own road ahead just for the sake of saying you paid in full."

Hearing this, Mr. Fang

finally let go of the last trace of scrutiny in his eyes.

He had seen too many children from wealthy families.

Some were given plenty of pocket money by their families but had nothing but straw in their heads.

Others suddenly found themselves clutching a large sum of money, and their first instinct was to pile designer brands onto themselves, terrified that others wouldn't know they had struck it rich.

But Lu Chuan was completely different.

He had bought Quiet Garden not because it was expensive, but because it was suited to living in.

He had bought the Continental GT not for the winged badge on its hood, but simply because it was well soundproofed and comfortable to drive.

He spoke maturely and acted efficiently.

With every step he took, he had a clear plan in mind.

Mr. Fang picked up his teacup and took a gentle sip.

"Selling this house to you..."

Mr. Fang looked at Lu Chuan, genuine relief coming through in his voice.

"I actually feel more at ease about it now."

Lu Chuan smiled.

"Were you afraid I'd take it over and ruin it?"

"A little."

Mr. Fang laughed too.

"I lived in this house myself for several years, so I'm attached to it. I wouldn't sell it to just anyone who could afford the price."

"If you'd walked in yesterday and the first thing you asked was how much the calligraphy and paintings on the walls were worth, or if you'd driven that Bentley here today, deliberately parked it right at the main entrance, and honked twice to make sure I saw it..."

Mr. Fang pointed to the contract on the table.

"Then I probably wouldn't have signed today."

Lu Chuan understood.

While selling the house, Mr. Fang had also been choosing the buyer.

He didn't offer any further explanation. He simply picked up his cup and took another sip of tea.

The tea wasn't bitter.

After he swallowed, a hint of sweetness rose in his throat. It was pleasant.

Mr. Fang looked at Lu Chuan.

He felt that their buyer-seller relationship could now take a substantial step forward.

He set down his teacup.

He reached out and adjusted the cuffs of his short-sleeved shirt with meticulous care.

His posture became more upright.

His tone remained as calm and unhurried as ever, but his words carried the weight of a thousand tons.

"Both times we've met, we've talked about the house."

Mr. Fang looked Lu Chuan in the eyes and spoke steadily.

"Let me introduce myself."

"Fang Zhiyuan."

"President of the Jiangcheng Chamber of Commerce."