Super Tycoon: I Beg You, Stop Pulling Stunts
Chapter 109 - 108: The Company’s First Streamer
「In another car.」
Lu Ming and Fang Weidong were also chatting. They had driven back together in one car that afternoon, and now they were heading home in Lu Ming’s car.
"Holy shit, did Brother Chu really give that watch away? When we left, I saw it was gone from his wrist, but when did he do it?"
Fang Weidong exclaimed, a little excited.
He had never been to this kind of gathering before. As a local who lived in resettlement housing, he had thought about buying a villa, but it wasn’t that easy.
The price was one reason. Besides that, many of the old neighbors from the village preferred to live close to one another. It was more comfortable that way.
To be honest, even their group of locals, the ones who got rich from the demolitions, all acknowledged that the nouveau riche who made their fortunes in emerging industries were actually more capable and more formidable.
The new money represented the real gold panned from the river—the ones who managed to make a name for themselves in the city. Some of the older guys with daughters even hoped to marry them off to these self-made millionaires, to forge a powerful alliance. But sometimes, those guys wouldn’t even give them the time of day.
As for today’s gathering, he was mostly confused.
Mainly, he just couldn’t figure out Brother Chu.
But he just felt that the man had some serious style.
The boss of that live-streaming company was no pushover either, but he had been left completely dumbfounded.
Lu Ming glanced at him and smiled. "How would I know? Weren’t we together the whole time?"
"Brother Chu’s ways are deep. Don’t overthink it. If you really want to know, just ask him sincerely later. He’ll tell you."
Fang Weidong nodded and didn’t press further. He took a deep breath. "Hey, I’m getting off up ahead, at Bai Shizhou. Just drop me at the subway station entrance. I’ll walk back and grab a few things on the way."
Lu Ming nodded.
"Alright."
...
Fang Weidong got out at the Bai Shizhou subway station entrance. He went into a nearby convenience store and bought a pack of gum and a bottle of mineral water. He chewed furiously, rinsed his mouth with the water, and kept sniffing his own breath to check for any lingering smell of smoke or alcohol.
He also tossed the cigarettes and lighter from his pocket into a trash can before walking the rest of the way home.
He had no choice. His father was strict. Very strict.
Smoking and drinking were forbidden. His dad said they were bad for his health.
His dad had gotten even stricter, especially after he got cleaned out in the divorce.
He was lucky they didn’t have a second child; he was the only one. Otherwise, his standing in the family would have been long gone.
Sometimes, Fang Weidong felt wronged. ’I’m already 26, and he still controls me like this.’
But, on second thought, maybe he really was a lost cause.
If his dad hadn’t been so strict, he would have been scammed out of his last pair of pants by now.
It wasn’t like none of his childhood friends from the village had been set up, taken to Australia Island to gamble, and lost everything.
He had dodged that bullet by being a coward.
It wasn’t a long walk home. He had already chewed through three sticks of gum. He licked the back of his hand and gave it a sniff. It smelled completely of gum. Only then did he walk home with a lightened step.
"Dad, I’m home."
In the living room, his father, Fang Wende, was sitting shirtless in front of the computer. With his pudgy belly and wearing only a pair of baggy shorts, he sat in front of the computer, a fan blowing on him, staring at the stock market with a deep frown.
He didn’t smoke, didn’t drink, and rarely even left the house. Playing the stock market was Fang Wende’s only hobby.
He had his wins and losses, but his discipline was excellent. Whether it was a profit or a loss, once it hit the 10% mark, he would sell without hesitation. Even if he sold too early, made less profit, and missed out on a huge gain, he never complained. He’d just move on to find the next stock worth buying.
Because of this discipline, it seemed he hadn’t really lost much over the years; in fact, he’d even managed to turn a small profit.
Fang Weidong really admired him for that.
"Where have you been? You were gone all day."
Fang Wende didn’t even look up. He kept his eyes fixed on the screen, took a sip from his tea mug, and asked in a deep voice.
That afternoon, he had called his dad to ask if he knew any second-hand luxury watch dealers because a friend wanted to buy one. His dad had said he didn’t and told him not to get involved.
Now, Fang Weidong answered obediently, "Dad, I went to dinner with some friends. Two of them own companies and live at Kowloon Platform."
He didn’t even dare to bring up the Golf Card, even though he wanted his dad’s advice on it. He was too afraid.
"Are you kidding me? Then why is your car at Mission Hills? You’ve learned how to play golf now, have you?"
Fang Weidong: ?
Holy shit!
He froze. He never imagined his dad would secretly install a GPS tracker in his car.
But then again, he was used to it.
’He could only sigh to himself.’
"I went this afternoon. After we finished playing, we went to dinner. Something came up last minute, so we were in a hurry. Another friend was driving a Porsche, so I just got a ride with him. I’ll go get my car tomorrow."
Fang Weidong explained in detail, feeling helpless but remaining respectful.
"Mm."
"I left some soft-shelled turtle soup for you in the pot. It’s wild-caught. A friend brought it over this afternoon. Go have a bowl."
Fang Wende seemed to accept this explanation. He nodded and gave the instruction.
Hearing this, Fang Weidong felt a flicker of warmth in his heart. He went to the kitchen, ladled out a bowl of soup, and started sipping it slowly. He pulled up a stool and sat down behind his dad.
"Dad, can I ask you something while I’m here?"
"I have a friend who wants to buy a plot of land and asked me to help him ask around. It doesn’t have to be in a prime location, but it should be a large plot. Do you know anyone who could help?"
Fang Wende glanced at his son. "You can’t handle this kind of business. You can’t even handle a job as a delivery driver. You think you can speculate on land?"
"I do have some connections. If your friend is serious, bring him over for dinner sometime. I’ll treat him to lobster, abalone, and leopard coral trout. Is that high-class enough? I won’t embarrass you, will I?"
Fang Weidong scratched his head and subconsciously scooted his chair back a little. He said softly, "That might not be enough, actually. The meal we had last night cost over six hundred thousand. My friend paid."
As he said this, he even stood up and shrank back.
But teasing his dad like this once in a while was one of the small joys of their father-son relationship, as long as it wasn’t a "crime of principle" like smoking or drinking.
Fang Wende shot his son a glare, then chuckled in exasperation. "Whether a meal is expensive isn’t about what you eat, but who you eat with. Your old man inviting him to dinner is giving him face. That’s more than enough status."
"Okay, Dad. I’ll ask him."
"I’m heading to my room now."
Fang Weidong said with a smile, walking quickly toward his room.
Watching his son’s retreating back, Fang Wende also sighed softly.
A tiger for a father, a dog for a son.
But there was nothing to be done.
However, his son’s greatest virtue was that he was filial. Very filial.
’You win some, you lose some. Heaven has already arranged it all. This is just his fate.’
...
Lin Chu hadn’t expected to find a folding screen in the living room when he returned to the suite.
Zhang Peng was standing by the screen. Xue Xiaojun, Liang Mo, and He Meng were all there as well. Behind the screen, a masked man was live-streaming.
He was performing Bian Lian, or face-changing.
The kind from Sichuan opera.
He had already started the stream. His movements were swift; in an instant, the red mask became a black one. His technique was so fast that even watching him in person, you couldn’t see how it was done.
’This is some good stuff!’
Zhang Peng had said he was interviewing streamers today. It looked like he’d found one and was giving him a trial run.
A smile touched the corners of Lin Chu’s lips.
Seeing Lin Chu enter, Zhang Peng hurried over, looking a little proud. "Brother Chu, this is the streamer I scouted from Rong City. He flew in today. We haven’t even had time to go to the office yet, so I brought him here for dinner and a trial stream to see his skills. I mainly wanted you to see him."
Lin Chu nodded with a smile. "Sure, let’s see. A live performance."
’Even if his performance is a pile of shit, even if he bombs, I’m still signing him.’
’There’s no popularity that can’t be bought with enough money.’
...
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