Chapter 91: A Very Low Price

Luo Wei-Ming had come this time for a very clear purpose: he wanted to buy the Neijiang Restaurant out of Luo Hao’s hands, and preferably at a bargain price. He had admired this place for a long time, but because the Sun Group stood behind it, he had never dared to make a move. Now that Luo Hao had stepped in and taken over the restaurant, he finally saw his chance.

“Don’t worry about that, Second Uncle. I have a plan, and nothing serious will happen,” Luo Hao said calmly.

Up to that moment, he still did not know what this so-called “cheap” uncle had really come for.

“Xiu Lan, it’s not me saying this—I think you should really talk some sense into your son,” Luo Wei-Ming said, glancing once at Luo Hao. Sensing that dealing with Luo Hao directly might be difficult, he turned his attention to Liu Xiu Lan at his side.

“What do you mean, Wei-Ming?” Liu Xiu Lan asked, confused.

Luo Wei-Ming took a deep drag on his cigarette and spoke.

“With your family’s financial standing, do you really think you can run this restaurant? The Neijiang place is one of the largest in the surrounding villages put together. Every month, payroll alone runs into tens of thousands. If I’m not mistaken, your son must have taken out a loan to buy it.”

His voice was heavy, almost fatherly, as if he were merely giving benevolent advice.

“That means his capital base is too thin. If he slips once, this restaurant could sink your whole family.”

“When creditors come to the door, forget about whether the restaurant makes money. Your son’s clinic, your daughter’s studies—both could be ruined.”

Liu Xiu Lan was a country woman who could barely read a few words, but those were words to make her blood run cold. Her worst fear was, and always had been, her two children getting into trouble.

“Wei-Ming, are you telling me this is really true?” she asked earnestly.

“Of course,” he replied with confidence. “I’ve done business for years. Don’t think I’d be so blind.”

“I don’t even need to look at the books to know the state of Neijiang’s accounts.”

“If your son wants this place to run smoothly, he still lacks the scale and maturity to manage it.”

At that, Liu Xiu Lan panicked and looked at her son.

Yet he sat there as calm as ever, as if nothing had happened.

“Son, tell me what we should do. Should we keep this restaurant running or not?” she asked, her voice rising with anxiety.

“Second Uncle, your hand’s stretching too far,” Luo Hao said with a short, cold laugh, no longer polite. Luo Wei-Ming had made it unmistakably clear—he had come to buy the place cheap. She had not expected him to be thinking so far ahead.

“I’d only be speaking so bluntly because I am your Second Uncle. If anyone else had heard this, they’d probably walk away right now in outrage.”

“I came here to save your family from ruin. Don’t be so ungrateful,” Luo Wei-Ming said solemnly, with an expression that almost convinced even himself.

Luo Hao frowned. “Second Uncle, I only call you that because you are my Second Uncle,” he said, voice hard. “And forget your lecture about whether this restaurant will drown my family. Just tell me what you’re really here for.”

He narrowed his eyes. Tension gathered between them like a drawn bow.

Liu Xiu Lan, watching, was anxious and wanted to stop her son, but Luo Hao was clearly not someone she could restrain. Besides, this Second Uncle had never been a polite man, and he had appeared only once in all these years. She gave up trying.

“Hey, you little fellow, you really can speak up like that. No wonder they’re so impressed over at Young Master Sun’s side…” Luo Wei-Ming blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Young Master Sun? Did he send you?” Luo Hao was sharper than his mother and caught the signal instantly.

“No, no, not how you’re thinking,” Luo Wei-Ming waved quickly, as if it had been a slip of the tongue.

“You’ve got money now, and you’ve got the nerve to talk that way. Even your Second Uncle can’t keep up with you,” he said, standing up. “I’ll tell you one thing: you’d do well to sell this restaurant. With your resources, you can’t run it.”

“Sell it? To whom?” Luo Hao raised an eyebrow and studied him seriously.

Luo Wei-Ming drew another long drag from his cigarette.

“Take your Second Uncle’s advice,” he said. “Lately, many people have their eyes on your Neijiang place. You can’t run it alone.”

“There are many people circling you.”

“If you want to get rid of this hot potato quickly, sell to me first. I’ll operate it properly; once it’s stable, I can always transfer it back to you at a low price.”

Luo Hao gave a cold laugh inwardly. So that was the game—grab it cheap from me first and trick it away. Once he got control of the restaurant, he would turn on him and deny all accounts. By then, even crying at his ancestors’ graves would mean nothing. As for persuading him to return it at a discount, that would be impossible.

“How much would you be willing to pay, Second Uncle?” Luo Hao asked, and for once he did not rush to expose him, nor did he show open anger.

At once Luo Wei-Ming’s heart began to pound. His eyes widened, every bit of attention fixed on Luo Hao.

“Fifty thousand. How does that sound, big nephew? This isn’t about trying to lowball you. Think of it as me helping you shoulder the risk.”

“If it makes a profit, I’ll share it with you too.”

“Your money is not a loan,” he added. “Think of it as my investment share in a joint operation. We’ll run it together.”

He laid out a slick proposal, so polished it seemed rehearsed for a long time and delivered only when every possible flaw had been smoothed away.

As Luo Wei-Ming spoke in one flawless stream, Luo Hao, against his own will, almost had to admire him.

In these times, to rise from nothing and build a piggery, one had to be talented. One mouthful of smooth speech like his could outshine more than a few simple farmers in the village.

But if he could fool old men in the village, he couldn’t fool Luo Hao.

No matter how silver-tongued he was, no matter how grand his words, he would never earn Luo Hao’s trust.

When Luo Wei-Ming finished, he turned to him.

“Xiao Hao, tell me. Isn’t Second Uncle’s solution a good one? Give me your word—when can we sign the contract?”

At that moment, Luo Hao’s mother’s voice rang out from beside him.

“Son, what your Second Uncle says does have a bit of sense.”