Fifty Million In, Fifty Million Out!

Half-asleep, Bai Yang was jolted awake by an annoying ringing. Without opening his eyes, he fumbled around the pillow, grabbed his phone, only to realize the sound wasn't coming from it.

Tossing the phone aside and pulling the covers over his head, the ringing persisted. He threw off the blanket and sat up, grumbling, "Where's that damn noise coming from? Don't they let people sleep?"

He got out of bed, padded barefoot out of the bedroom, determined to hunt down the culprit.

Reaching the living room, he realized the ringing was someone pressing the doorbell outside the villa. He hit the intercom video switch and said, yawning, "Who is it? Don't you let people sleep during the day?"

Outside the door, Liu Qingshan said to Song Guotao, "See? That's the kind of shitty brat he is. Sleeping during the day and he thinks he's in the right."

"Young people, they're all like this, day and night reversed. My own grandsons aren't much different—nightfall is when their day starts."

Song Guotao spoke with an expression that said he'd seen it all.

What could Liu Qingshan say? The world changed too fast, he couldn't keep up. Turning back, he said gruffly into the intercom, "Kid, I'm here to bring you money!"

Inside, Bai Yang looked at the video. Oh ho, the old man actually came. Barely two hours had passed, right? But he didn't open the door, saying in an annoyed tone, "Hey hey, who's that next to you? Coming is fine, but why bring someone?"

"Friend Bai Yang, Liu Qingshan is just a pauper. I'm here to pay for him," Song Guotao said with a smile from outside.

Well, that was fine. From the video, Bai Yang could tell the other guy was rich (though he couldn't really tell rich from anything). So he opened the door, and there stood two old men, one smiling and one scowling.

"Come in, no need to change shoes. And don't expect me to pour you water—I don't even have cups here," Bai Yang said as he walked back inside.

Song Guotao looked around the spacious living room and said in surprise, "Friend Bai Yang, I'm curious how lazy you are. There's a layer of dust in here—haven't you thought about cleaning it? If you don't want to do it yourself, you could at least call a maid service, right?"

Bai Yang casually patted the sofa, sending up a cloud of dust, then plopped down in a slouch like Uncle Ge and waved his hand. "I'm busy, you know. Millions up and down every minute—no time for that."

"I suppose."

Song Guotao nodded thoughtfully as he entered, not minding the dirty sofa, and sat down with his back straight, smiling at Bai Yang.

As for Liu Qingshan, he looked disgusted, refused to sit, turned his head away from Bai Yang, and said, "He's paying. I don't want to talk to you anymore."

Whoever you were, as long as the money came, Bai Yang skipped Liu Qingshan and looked at Song Guotao. But this old man had a strong presence. Bai Yang's lazy posture felt awkward under the other's smiling gaze, and he unconsciously sat up straight.

This was my house, damn it. Why did I feel like the guest?

While grumbling internally, a vague sense that this old man seemed familiar flashed through his mind. He cut straight to the point, looking at him. "So, how much do you want to buy?"

Song Guotao didn't answer. Instead, he looked at Bai Yang and asked, "You don't recognize me?"

"Are you famous? Oh right, wait here for a moment..."

As he spoke, Bai Yang remembered something. Leaving that line, he ran upstairs to the bedroom, grabbed his motorcycle keys, thundered back down, and under the two old men's puzzled gazes, hopped on his motorcycle and sped off.

The two old men exchanged glances. What was going on?

Not long after, Bai Yang came roaring back on his motorcycle, carrying a large bag. He set it on the coffee table, pulled out three bottles of water, placed two on the table for the old men, and cracked open one for himself, downing half in big gulps.

At least he had some manners, the two old men thought. But that judgment came too soon.

"Don't throw away the bottles when you're done. I'll need them to bottle the liquor later," Bai Yang said.

"... "

Liu Qingshan was used to it and numb, but Song Guotao's eyelids twitched. Why did he feel an urge to beat this young man up?

I love it when you clearly can't stand me but can't do anything about it, Bai Yang chuckled inwardly...

"Let's get started. That liquor of yours—we'll take as much as you have."

Song Guotao didn't want to waste words with Bai Yang, cutting straight to the point. After speaking, he pulled out an old-person phone and dialed. "Xiao Ma, send a few porcelain bottles to Number Thirty-Four."

"Oh, I can tell you're a loaded rich guy. Wait up."

Bai Yang gave a thumbs-up in flattery, got up, and hurried upstairs. Soon, he came back down carrying the jar of Hundred Fruit Brew.

The two old men's eyes locked onto the jar in Bai Yang's arms, their noses twitching slightly at the faint aroma, their eyes gleaming like hungry wolves!

The Hundred Fruit Brew in the jar—Bai Yang had given half to Bai Jianjun a few days ago. He took a small sip daily, negligible, leaving over ten jin.

"Time to get rich again!"

Seeing the old men's expressions, Bai Yang chuckled inwardly. Heh, he could have as much of this stuff as he wanted. There were over ten jars in 'that' room; he just didn't bother moving them.

He set the jar on the coffee table. Before he could speak, a vigorous young man strode in through the door.

"Wearing a suit and tie in this heat—aren't you afraid of heat rash? That must be the so-called Xiao Ma. A bodyguard, by the looks of it. Pretty cool, actually. I should get a few myself to show off someday."

As Bai Yang muttered to himself, the young man set down a box, gave a slight nod to the two old men, and left without a word.

"Alright, let's begin."

Bai Yang said with a shrug, pulling a 100-milliliter measuring cup from the plastic bag he'd brought back. He'd gone out specifically to buy it earlier...

"How do we know the liquor in this jar is the same as the one you had tested?"

Liu Qingshan spoke up, naturally not giving Bai Yang a good face.

"I said, you scammer, if you don't want it, just say so. Don't waste my time!"

Bai Yang slapped the measuring cup down on the coffee table and hugged the jar, ready to head back upstairs.

"Bai Yang, Friend Bai, don't mind this old fool. Come on, let's do it your way."

Song Guotao quickly smoothed things over. As he spoke, he opened the box Xiao Ma had brought, revealing a row of foot-long porcelain bottles, a dozen or so. Bai Yang didn't know much about them, but they looked high-end.

"I won't bother with him."

Liu Qingshan trembled with rage...

He set the jar back down and lifted the sealed leaves from its mouth, and instantly a soul-stirring aroma of wine wafted out.

The two old men squinted, their noses twitching in bliss as they craned their necks to peer into the jar, nearly drooling.

Just as Bai Yang was about to dip the measuring cup into the jar, Song Guotao quickly stopped him, saying, "Hey now, did you wash that cup or not? Forget it, I'll do it myself!"

With that, Song Guotao snatched the measuring cup from Bai Yang's hand, ran to the kitchen to wash it thoroughly, then pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket to dry it carefully. He set it on the coffee table, personally lifted the wine jar, and poured into the measuring cup.

The emerald-green wine flowed down, and the intoxicating fragrance grew even richer.

"Hey hey, that's too much, at least half a milliliter over!"

Bai Yang quickly stopped him, eyeing the wine that had risen just a hair above the measuring cup's mark.

"Can't you be any stingier?"

Song Guotao said irritably, but he stopped his motion nonetheless. He poured the hundred milliliters of Hundred Fruit Brew into a porcelain bottle, capped it, then poured again. After five full rounds, he had filled one bottle, which he carefully placed in the crate.

"That's five hundred milliliters now, five million, you know."

Bai Yang reminded him from the side...

"And that's five million?"

Liu Qingshan stared wide-eyed at Bai Yang, looking like he wanted to devour him.

"Oh, making it sound like I'm ripping you off. Everyone here saw it with their own eyes, and there's even a camera over there."

Bai Yang lied through his teeth—who installs a camera in their living room?

"Heh, no matter, no matter."

Song Guotao kept measuring the wine with the cup, chuckling as he worked.

After half an hour of back-and-forth, until not a drop remained in the jar, they had filled nine porcelain bottles. For the tenth, they only managed four hundred milliliters.

"See here, there's still seventy-six milliliters in this measuring cup, right? That's seventy-six million. The other nine bottles make four thousand five hundred milliliters. Total is forty-five million seven hundred sixty thousand. Thank you for your patronage, pay up."

Bai Yang pointed at the wine still left in the measuring cup, counting on his fingers, then held out his hand.

Song Guotao calmly finished bottling, capped it, placed the bottle back in the crate, closed the lid, and looked at Bai Yang. "You're worse than a robber, but have you considered what happens if we don't pay?"

"That's fine. I'll just run off and post online, saying former provincial secretary Old Song bullied me by taking goods without paying, and I have no one to turn to. Then I'll go cry at the city government office—your son Mayor Song works there. I don't believe you won't pay up!"

Bai Yang said with an air of confidence.

"Kid, you're just too infuriating. Pretending not to know me, and even knowing who I am, you won't give a discount. Fine, what's your account number? I'll have my daughter, who does business abroad, transfer it to you."

Song Guotao pointed at Bai Yang, utterly speechless.

Bai Yang gave his account number, Song Guotao called on the spot to have the money sent. After a few words, he hung up. Only when Bai Yang's phone pinged with a deposit notification did Song Guotao snort and personally carry the crate out the door.

He couldn't stand to stay a second longer.

"Take care! Come find me when you run out. Oh, friendly tip—that stuff is potent. Don't exceed thirty milliliters a day. If something goes wrong, I'm not responsible." Bai Yang called after them with a grin.

Once the two old men were completely gone, he collapsed onto the sofa, rolling around. Rich, rich! That stuff that Ye drank like water had just sold for nearly fifty million!

"Wait, I busted my ass to get fifteen million from Dad. So I basically handed him fifty million worth of Hundred Fruit Brew?"

Bai Yang did the math and froze...

(Plea for recommendation tickets and collections. The New Book rankings are brutal, everyone help push it up!)