Forcing Me to Be Reborn?!-Chapter 655 - 466 Cheng Zhu: I’m Scolding You!_2

"Hehe, the old lady just spent an extra 3 bucks, didn’t expect it to be worth ten or twenty!"

"Damn, good thing I bought it early!"

"Gotta post on social media to show off!"

"The little Feiliu I bought is just so cute!"

For those who didn’t buy it, there was no impact, after all, there was plenty of merchandise available later on; just come for the milk tea, and you were certain to get one.

Subconsciously, everyone also thought the thing had value—popular stuff always seems worth it!

You see, a truly slick player is definitely good at manipulating human nature.

Not to mention when it’s a Grandmaster-level player.

Even the emotional value of the customers was something he could max out in one go!

Cheng Zhu said, "In fact, remember, the internet celebrity economy always sells more than just products!"

...

...

Come evening, after finishing his social obligations, Shen Guoqiang rode his Rolls-Royce back home.

He had recently hit some major snags with a big brick-and-mortar project, which meant almost daily schmoozing and ceaseless entertaining.

Once home, he saw Shen Minglang’s Panamera Turbo also in the garage and knew his rebellious son had returned from his trip.

After drinking, Shen Guoqiang started upstairs while Wang Yushan waited for him in the living room, ready to make him a glass of honey water to help with the alcohol when he returned.

This small gesture was a long-standing habit between the couple.

Honestly, the housekeeper could do it too.

But the Patek Philippe Nautilus 7118 with diamonds on Wang Yushan’s wrist was a gift from her husband; the Bentley Continental GT she drove was bought by her husband; her annual living expenses came from her share of the dividends from the high-end department store Star City— if she didn’t do something, she would feel guilty.

"Back already? Want me to make you some honey water?" she asked.

"Yeah, and then call Shen Minglang down for me," Shen Guoqiang, reeking of alcohol, slumped right onto the sofa.

Wang Yushan nodded, sighing inwardly, knowing someone was about to get an earful.

She was only two years older than Shen Minglang, and this young stepmother was well aware that the older generation of parents liked this oppressive style of education; her mother was the same toward her, and in this respect, she actually felt quite sympathetic to Shen Minglang.

She knew her husband too well; he did care about his son.

It was just his old prideful ways... sigh!

A few minutes later, Shen Minglang bounded downstairs with a spring in his step.

He looked a shade darker, perhaps a bit thinner too, or maybe black just made him look slimmer...

"Dad, you wanted to see me?" He settled onto one of the two single rosewood armchairs to the side of the living room, naturally choosing the one farthest from Shen Guoqiang, an almost subconscious reaction.

"Dad, have you been drinking?" Shen Minglang eyed his father’s state, showing some concern.

He could tell Shen Guoqiang had drunk quite a bit; his eyes were slightly glazed.

Shen Minglang himself was a real booze hound, truly loving his drink, but he was well aware that at his father’s age, a passion for alcohol had waned; drinking too much was a burden on the body, and Shen Guoqiang would only overdo it if it were necessary, otherwise, he would control himself.

Shen Guoqiang didn’t address his comment, simply issuing a directive: "Send me the data from Youu Tea these last few days."

His voice was low and his tone not too pleasant.

"Okay," Shen Minglang immediately accessed his phone.

As Shen Minglang fiddled with his phone, Shen Guoqiang began, "With those shops you opened before, the money you lost—I never said anything because the amounts were small, just a few million each time, considered as your costly lessons."

"But now, have you become numb to the money I give you? You think a few million is just a small figure, and 60 million doesn’t seem like much either, right?"

"Huh? No, not at all," Shen Minglang replied, puzzled.

Shit, could it be that I mentioned in the last video meeting about asking for more money, and you took it to heart?

Oh, my dear dad! I’m not asking for more money because I think 60 million is too little!

Clearly, father and son were not on the same wavelength.

But that was the norm in many families.

Shen Guoqiang glanced at him and ignored his comment, sternly asking, "Have you sent it yet?"

This was another common pattern of father-son communication in many families.

—Dad: I’m not listening.

What was even more stifling, you talk, and he doesn’t listen, in the long run, causing you to stop wanting to talk, but once something happens, he would blame you for not saying anything.

"Wait a second, I’ll screenshot it," said Shen Minglang, the ’cheerful sunny boy,’ in a rather good mood, adding, "Dad, this data isn’t for sharing outside, you know."

Upon hearing this, Shen Guoqiang’s eyelid twitched again.

He felt his head growing fuzzier, perhaps from anger or the alcohol.

Mr. Shen opened his phone, his presence overpowering; his eyes seemed to change as he read the data, that is, if he hadn’t fished his reading glasses out of his pocket.

Shen Minglang, sitting on the side, began to explain.

"Our Youu Tea stores have been rapidly expanding recently. We now have 46 stores nationwide, and in a couple of days, 4 more will have a unified opening, bringing the total to over 50."

"Like yesterday, the average number of cups sold was 3618, average price about 35, as all products shifted to co-branded packaging which is 3 bucks more expensive."

"The number of people buying the co-branded versions is increasing day by day..."

Every word Shen Minglang spoke, Shen Guoqiang didn’t take in at all.

He just stared at the data graph in his hand, furrowing his brow deeply, a storm brewing in his mind.