Lu Ao turned to look at him and said, "One reason I think your idea of opening a hotel in the village won't work is that the supporting infrastructure is too poor."
Weng Qian considered it. "There aren't that many houses. If they need to be demolished and relocated, that isn't impossible."
"Where would they relocate to? How many people would be willing to move? And how much would you be willing to pay? Besides, even if the houses were relocated, the surrounding environment and facilities still wouldn't keep up. Guests wouldn't like it when they came."
Weng Qian understood what Lu Ao meant.
The two returned to Lu Ao's home in silence. It was also a small multistory house, the sort of rural house with rather poor taste, though it had the advantage of being clean.
"Make do with it. My parents built this house," Lu Ao said as he opened the door for him. "If my family's house had to be relocated, I definitely wouldn't be willing."
"I understand."
As they entered the courtyard, a large dog suddenly darted out.
Chubby had noticed them and rushed over, hopping around Lu Ao's feet. "Woof, woof, woof!"
The fellow was always bursting with energy. It barked, stuck out its tongue, and wagged its tail, its big eyes full of delight.
Weng Qian knew Lu Ao kept a dog, but he had not expected it to be so large, so fat, and so lively.
The dog had to weigh at least fifty or sixty jin. Its fur was fluffy and imposing, while its face was mottled tan and pale yellow—the classic face of an Alaskan Malamute.
Weng Qian raised his hands in a defensive posture and watched the big Alaskan Malamute warily.
After bouncing around several times, Chubby turned toward Weng