Super Tycoon: I Beg You, Stop Pulling Stunts

"I’m heading out to buy some oranges. You stay here and play, and just order room service if you get hungry."

Fang Yichun was lying on the couch, playing Egg Party. Hearing Lin Chu’s words, she looked up at him.

’Huh?’

’Buy some oranges?’

Seeing the cheeky grin on Lin Chu’s face, she instantly understood. He was teasing her again.

"Where are you going?"

She asked, a little clingy. A young heart, new to the throes of passion, is at its most attached, and besides, it was pouring rain outside.

"To talk business. I’ve got a meeting with a client. Be good."

Lin Chu patted her on the head, then started to change his clothes before getting up to leave.

"Then... what time will you be back?"

she asked again, sounding a little pitiful.

"It’s six now. I’ll definitely be back before nine. For every hour I’m late, I’ll give you a kiss."

Lin Chu said with a roguish smile. He held her, gave her a peck, and then turned to leave.

’There’s really no need to bring her to this kind of business meeting.’

...

He had also booked a presidential suite at this hotel, which came with a concierge car service. Lin Chu reserved a car—a Mercedes E-Class—at the front desk, got in, and headed for the location Pei Ming had sent him.

Outside, it seemed as if the heavens had burst open; the rain was coming down hard.

But even so, electric scooters—the little yellow and blue ones—still weaved back and forth, braving the wind and rain.

Watching this scene, Lin Chu felt a pang in his heart. ’If only there were a million sprawling mansions to shelter all the world’s struggling souls.’

’Sigh...’

Just then, a thought quietly surfaced in his mind—’Food delivery?’

’These are all my brothers!’

The vast majority of delivery drivers were men. Ninety percent was a conservative estimate; it had to be at least ninety-five percent.

’But this field is already saturated with the little yellow and blue guys.’

’You couldn’t break in even if you bashed your head against the wall.’

’The key is that the vendors are all locked into monopolies.’

’Even if I were to try, I’d need a very novel entry point.’

He pondered this all the way to a Wumi congee hot pot restaurant. The rain had let up a bit. At the trotter rice shop next door, a few delivery drivers were still waiting for orders.

Lin Chu glanced over, then stood under the eaves and sent Pei Ming a message.

"I’m at the entrance. Are you here?"

A moment later, a lean-looking middle-aged man walked out of the restaurant. He was rather handsome, with slightly dark skin. He stood before Lin Chu and asked, "Lin Chu?"

Pei Ming’s expression held a hint of surprise.

’This kid looks like he’s barely in his early twenties... and he’s buying an island?’

"Ah, yes, that’s me. Hello, Brother Ming."

Lin Chu smiled and nodded. ’This uncle was born in the 70s, so he must be over fifty this year. He looks pretty worn out, though. Lots of gray hair, and he hasn’t dyed it.’

"And how old might you be?"

Pei Ming asked casually, smiling politely as he led Lin Chu inside.

"Twenty-four."

"Oh."

He nodded, then couldn’t help but shake his head with a small smile. ’The younger generation really is young. His family background must be good, but at least he’s polite.’

They each took a seat and ordered the soup base and ingredients. Lin Chu placed the bottle of Maotai he had brought on the table, watching Pei Ming with a smile.

’His online reputation was pretty legendary.’

’The Three Island Masters.’

’But in reality, he’s just a regular guy.’

"So why the sudden interest in buying an island?"

Pei Ming asked casually, making small talk while they waited for the food.

"I took a trip to Bohe Island, and the opportunity came up, so I thought, why not? I quite like to travel."

Lin Chu said offhandedly, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering one to him. Pei Ming accepted it with a smile, lit it, and took a deep drag.

"What do you do, Brother Ming?"

Although he had already seen it on his social media, he asked anyway as part of the pleasantries.

"I run a factory. Sell clothes."

Pei Ming said calmly. He had a comfortable air about him—tranquil, unhurried, with a depth that spoke of age and experience, giving the impression of someone with immense inner stability.

"Ha, that’s great, that’s great. Food, clothing, shelter, and transport—clothing comes first. Hey, I glanced at your Moments and saw you also work with Xiangyun Sha. I’m starting a company right now, ’livestreaming plus intangible cultural heritage,’ to promote traditional culture. I want to let more people know about our wonderful traditional goods."

Lin Chu tossed out the conversational bait. ’It was worth a shot.’ After all, it was just casual conversation, and under this calm atmosphere, he felt himself being influenced, his own mind growing serene.

Pei Ming nodded and gave a slight smile but didn’t say anything. In his heart, he just thought, ’He’s still just playing around.’

’It’s a tough sell.’

’Where are you going to sell it?’

He had actually looked into this area before. Incense was mostly bought by the nouveau riche in the Middle East. Porcelain prices had been driven down into the gutter. Other items were all very niche. Handicrafts were destined to be phased out—they were just niche trinkets.

’Take Xiangyun Sha, for example. The handmade stuff... the whole country only produces about two million meters a year. Factories in London are producing it too, and their global shipment volume for one week matches that. The quality is much worse, of course, but price is king.’

But one doesn’t get into deep conversations with new acquaintances, so there was no need for him to tell Lin Chu any of this.

’The young are full of themselves. He’d probably get upset if I said anything.’

’Better to just eat, drink, and talk about the island.’

Lin Chu sensed his reluctance to talk. It wasn’t disdain, but a kind of weariness, as if life had beaten all the fight out of him.

"What, Uncle Ming isn’t optimistic? It’s fine, let’s just chat about it. Think of it as consulting for me, I’ll even save on the consultant fee."

Lin Chu continued to prod him.

He just smiled and waved his hand. "Ah, let’s not talk about that, let’s not talk about that."

Just then, the waiter brought over the hot pot base and the ingredients, and he focused on cooking the food.

Lin Chu seized the opportunity to pour the liquor.

...

「An hour or so later.」

Lin Chu had kept the conversation going the whole time, and Pei Ming had gradually opened up, saying a lot of things—both things he should and shouldn’t have said.

It took less than three small glasses for Pei Ming to be completely buzzed. He declared passionately, "Screw the damn factory, screw the damn supply chain! It’s all a pit, a huge pit! Lost nine million last year, twelve million the year before, three million the year before that. And this year... first half, and not a single order yet."

Ruffling his hair, he went on, fueled by the alcohol, "Heh heh, I’m retired! Retired! I’m off to go fishing and raise chickens. Work! Work my ass!"

Lin Chu: ...

’Bro, this personality switch is a little extreme.’

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

’Liquor really is a wonderful thing.’

"The oldest, Brother Dong, he’s sitting pretty as a landlord, pulling in tens of millions in rent a year, traveling the world."

"The second, Xiaobo, he emigrated. Spends his days fishing and drinking tea. Living the good life."

"And me, I’m just a total screw-up. A massive screw-up."

It was as if Pei Ming had a bellyful of bitterness. The moment the alcohol hit his stomach, all his grievances came pouring out.

Lin Chu didn’t dare pour him any more liquor. He just passed him one cigarette after another, afraid he would burst into tears at any second.

Getting drunk is perhaps the last refuge for a middle-aged man.

His stomach might suffer, but his tightly wound heartstrings could finally relax for a moment.

Lin Chu scratched his head.

’Son of a bitch... he’s using me as his emotional dumping ground.’

Still, watching a man in his fifties like this left a bad taste in his mouth. Who doesn’t have their own difficulties?

’What kind of drinking session is this!’

...

Pei Ming was drunk.

Completely drunk.

Lin Chu helped him up, got him into the car, and after a moment’s thought, decided to take him back to his own hotel. He had no idea where the man lived.

His phone was password-locked, without even a fingerprint option, and no one was calling him.

’Unbelievable.’

’My first time picking up a ’corpse’.’

’And it’s an uncle born in the 70s.’

’Sigh, actually, it’s not the first time. Wang Zhefei is a total lightweight with alcohol, too. I was always the one helping him home before. I’m used to it.’

Right now, Lin Chu just wanted to belt out a line from a song—’Alright, we always make a hasty exit after dawn; the sober one is always the most absurd!’

...

...