Father and Son Discuss Business Matters

"What are you looking at me for? Hurry up and go get that Monkey Wine or whatever." Having personally experienced the effects of Monkey Wine, Bai Jianjun was clearly impatient.

What kind of parents were these...

Speechless inside, Bai Yang looked at his dad, hesitated for a moment, and said, "Dad, you know I'm doing trading now, right?"

"And? If you've got something to say, just spit it out. I can tell from your face it's nothing good," Bai Jianjun said irritably.

"What do you mean nothing good? I'm bringing you a huge opportunity here, and you're giving me this attitude. Fine, if you don't want to hear it, I won't say it," Bai Yang said, annoyed.

There was no helping it—this was how father and son had talked for the past ten or twenty years, and it wasn't about to change.

But Bai Jianjun just casually tossed out a "go on." He knew his son too well—the kid never did anything criminal, but expecting him to do something genuinely good was a pipe dream.

"Can't you take this seriously for once? Here's the thing—long story short, our company has a batch of imported precious lumber. Are you interested in taking it?"

Hearing this, Bai Jianjun looked at Bai Yang with contempt. "I knew it. The moment you open your mouth, there's no good news. Just started work and already trying to screw over your old man. You're jealous of your colleagues' sales performance, aren't you? Can't find clients, so you come to me?"

Waving a hand to stop Bai Yang, who looked like he was about to say something with a constipated expression, Bai Jianjun continued, "In principle, everything in this family will be yours someday. Since you're just starting out, as your dad, I have to support you no matter what. Screw me over if you have to, but don't do it too hard!"

"..."

Bai Yang stared blankly at the lightbulb. What was this all about?

Still, deep down, he was touched. No matter what, parents always sided with their kids. Even if they got taken advantage of, it didn't matter, as long as their child could hold their head up in front of others...

But something was off. Bai Yang swore he was here to give his dad a good deal!

"You two keep talking. I'm going to cook," Zhen Guoping said, uninterested, and headed to the kitchen.

"Dad, our company really does have a batch of imported precious lumber. You're in the furniture business, so I figured you could use it. If you're afraid I'm screwing you over, I'll sell it to someone else," Bai Yang said with a sigh.

Of course, selling it to someone else was out of the question, even if it rotted away there.

"What kind of lumber?" Bai Jianjun took a sip of tea as he asked.

"Red Sandalwood. Yeah, about a few dozen tons."

Pfft... Bai Jianjun sprayed his tea, pointed at Bai Yang, and coughed for a long time without managing to say a word.

Once he finally caught his breath, he jabbed a finger at Bai Yang's nose and said, "You little wastrel! Even screwing over your dad has limits. A few dozen tons of Red Sandalwood, and you want to sell it to me? I think you might as well take over the whole family business, and then the three of us can go beg on the streets."

"What do you mean?" Bai Yang's mouth twitched.

"It means I don't have that much money, and I can't afford it, got it? At first, I thought maybe a few tons of regular wood—I'd grit my teeth and buy it. But you, you little bastard, you're trying to kill me in one shot!"

Hearing Bai Jianjun's words, Bai Yang secretly laughed to himself. His dad usually acted like money was no object, so it was rare to see him stumped. Taking a slow sip of tea, he said, "Dad, not having enough cash isn't a problem. I can give you the lowest market price, and if that's not enough, I can even give you a discount. Don't glare at me—still not enough? How about installments? This kind of deal only I can give you, old man. Don't even think about it from anyone else!"

Hearing this, Bai Jianjun relaxed. Without even looking at Bai Yang, he sneered, "I get it now. You're just a con artist, trying to fool your old man for fun? You think a deal like that would come to me? It's not like you own the company."

Bai Yang thought to himself, Close enough, but what company? The boss and the only employee are me!

Then he started organizing his words.

He'd known from the start it wouldn't be easy to pawn the lumber off on his dad, but now it seemed it wasn't just hard—first, his dad didn't believe him, and then, his dad still didn't believe him...

"How about this: tomorrow, I'll have the lumber delivered straight to your factory. If you want it, keep it. If not, I'll have it hauled away. Deal?"

That was the simplest, crudest solution Bai Yang could think of.

"I'm more and more convinced you're a con artist. Would your boss let you mess around like this? Red Sandalwood? I doubt it's even compressed wood," Bai Jianjun said, still scornful.

"Don't worry about that. I'll get it to you. Yeah, it's settled. Well, I'm off. Bye now."

With that, Bai Yang got up and made a break for it. The more he said, the more mistakes he'd make. One lie needed a thousand more to cover it up. Where the hell was he supposed to find a trading company to do business with his dad? He'd just rent a big truck, haul the lumber over, and be done with it. If his dad didn't want it, he'd burn it as firewood!

"Hey, don't forget that wine..." came Bai Jianjun's reminder from behind.

"Won't forget. I'll bring it along when I come."

Waving a hand, he closed the door and bolted.

Riding his motorcycle through the night toward his rented villa, he passed a few kids racing their bikes. They tried to invite him to join, but he ignored them completely.

On a stretch of road with sparse streetlights, a few motorcycles roared nearby. Bai Yang was fuming inside.

"You little brats just won't quit, will you? I'll scare the hell out of you. It's not like you can see clearly anyway!"

Muttering to himself, Bai Yang slammed on the brakes, and whoosh—he vanished into the night...

Vroom vroom vroom... Bang bang bang...

Faced with Bai Yang's sudden disappearance, the kids panicked, couldn't react in time, and crashed in a heap.

"Mom, a ghost..."

The brats scrambled up, hopped on their bikes, and fled like dogs were chasing them.

A minute later, Bai Yang rode his motorcycle back to the spot, glanced at the debris on the ground, curled his lip, and sped off. From then on, rumors of a haunting spread along that road, and those kids never dared to race there at night again.

Back at his rented villa, Bai Yang scratched his head. What was he supposed to do next?

It was early evening here, and night over there too—maybe even longer nights there. He wasn't sleepy, so he slapped his forehead. Right, let's get the real work done first.

He went online to search for places to rent a big truck. Thank the internet for being all-powerful.

It wasn't hard to find. Soon, he got a private rental number. He called, and the guy was annoyed it was already nighttime, but when Bai Yang offered ten thousand for a day's rental of a big truck, the guy immediately said he'd be ready anytime...

If money could solve it, it wasn't a problem!

"If I lose this ten thousand, I'm completely broke, but I don't believe Dad won't take the Red Sandalwood if I haul it to the factory—then I'll have money!"

He mulled it over, decided it was doable, turned around and rode his motorcycle out. First, he hit the ATM and withdrew ten thousand, then saw his card balance was only three digits and nearly shed a tear...

Arriving at the agreed spot—a barbecue stall in the suburbs, the roadside packed with big rigs sporting a dozen or more wheels—he made the call. A burly bald man stood up from one of the stalls and waved at Bai Yang.

"Brother, want a drink?" The guy sized Bai Yang up as he spoke.

"Brother Yang, right? I'll pass on the booze—I'm in a hurry. Where's the truck I asked for?" Bai Yang waved his hand.

On the phone earlier, this guy called himself Yang Biao, and he sure looked the part, but compared to those hulking rigs over there, he was still a weakling...

The guy was straightforward enough, but he looked at Bai Yang seriously and said, "Cash first, then the keys. I don't care what you haul, but let's be clear—if anything happens to the truck, you're on the hook!"

"Of course. Here's the money, where are the keys?" Bai Yang pulled out the cash without hesitation, no time to waste.

He wasn't worried about getting scammed or anything—out of all the people in the world, why would they be waiting just to screw him over? Lao Tzu didn't have some built-in hate aura that made trouble follow him everywhere.

The process was simple: pay up, take the keys, leave his motorcycle with the guy, pick it up when he returned the truck. He could even ride it for fun if he wanted, just don't wreck it—but he'd need enough gas left to get back.

Dealing with people wasn't as full of scheming and backstabbing as folks imagined. Who'd want to play those nasty tricks if they could just live peacefully? At least that's how most people were...

"Kids these days, who knows what tricks they're up to," Yang Biao muttered, shaking his head as he watched Bai Yang drive off in a heavy truck, then his eyes lit up at the flashy sports bike Bai Yang had left behind...

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