Chapter 561 — A Coerced Sale

"Little what? Little who? Who's little? You son of a bitch—you think you can look down on me, you old bastard?" Zou Ruoguang slapped Kang's father across the face with a sharp crack, leaving five red finger marks.

Kang's mother heard the commotion and came running out. Seeing her husband struck, she flew into a rage on the spot. "Who are you people? What are you doing here?"

Kang's father nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw her. He shot her a frantic look—these were people they could not afford to cross! With an ingratiating smile, he made the introductions. "This is President Zhang, this is President Zou, and this here is... Brother Zou..."

He no longer dared call Zou Ruoguang "Little Brother Zou." "Brother Zou" it had to be—though calling a young man so much younger than himself, barely older than his own son, "brother" was galling to say the least. But there was no help for it.

"Old Kang, what are you doing? They're here to make trouble, aren't they? Call the police—call them right now! I don't believe they're bigger than 110!" Kang's mother was frantic at the sight of her husband so cowed and humble.

"Hahaha!" Zou Tiandi burst out laughing. "Call the police? Go ahead, call them! I'd love to see what the police can do to me. We're consumers—we came here for tea!"

"You hit him!" Kang's mother jabbed a finger at Zou Ruoguang.

"Hit him? Did I? Did you see that? You old thing, did I hit you?" Zou Ruoguang glared at Kang's father.

"N-no... no, you didn't..." Kang's father knew how these petty thugs operated. Calling the police would do no good—the man had done nothing to him, really; a single slap did not even count as a public-order offense. But the moment the police left, life would become hell. They would come harass him every single day.

Kang's mother was taken aback, and it dawned on her that these men were not here for tea at all. Anyone who could frighten her husband to this degree must have serious backing. Yet she did not know who they were, so she looked at him in confusion.

Kang's father sighed and came over. In a low voice he said, "President Zhang there is Zhang Baji, owner of the Eight-Grade Teahouse across the street. That President Zou is Zou Tiandi, boss of Tiandi Entertainment. And that blond one is Zou Ruoguang, the gang boss of the North District. We can't afford to cross them..."

"What! It's them!" Kang's mother finally matched the names to faces, and she too was badly startled. She knew about the little tricks Zhang Baji had been playing—she just had never imagined his backing was this formidable!

Zhang Baji, Zou Tiandi, and Zou Ruoguang had of course noticed her expression and knew Kang's father had told her who they were. Zhang Baji said smugly, "Boss Kang, I hear your teahouse has been run poorly and you're looking to sell out. I'm interested in taking it over. Shall we talk?"

"Sell out?" Kang's father froze. Then, seeing Zhang Baji's expression, he understood exactly what game was being played—this was a strong-arm buyout straight out of real life. Uncomfortable as it made him, he knew that if he kept running the teahouse this way, he would soon be losing money anyway. Better to sell it and be done. He nodded. "That's true enough. How much were you thinking, President Zhang?"

"Well now, I wouldn't know what it's worth, would I? Brother Zou, would you do the appraisal for us?" Zhang Baji turned to Zou Tiandi, feigning ignorance.

Kang's father and mother both felt their hearts sink. Zhang Baji ran a teahouse himself—how could he not know what a teahouse was worth? Who did he think he was fooling? But the pose he was striking made it plain: he was letting Zou Tiandi set the price so that they would not dare haggle.

"Let me see... commercial space on this street runs about ten thousand a square meter these days. Yours is two hundred square meters upstairs and down. I'll give you a flat price, round it off—two million," Zou Tiandi said mildly.

"What?" Kang's father stared at him, aghast. It was true that commercial space on this street went for ten thousand a square meter—but that was construction area! This teahouse of his had two hundred square meters of usable floor space, but nearly three hundred of construction area. By any reckoning it should fetch two million seven or eight hundred thousand. And that was just the property; his renovation, his tea sets, and his stock of fine teas were worth a million at least. Someone had once offered four million for the teahouse and he had turned them down. Now Zou Tiandi had slashed it in half at a stroke?

"Haha, Dad, the old thing's been struck dumb by your price! I told you it was too high. This shabby teahouse is worth a million at the very most!" Zou Ruoguang chimed in. "Uncle Zhang runs a teahouse, he knows the prices. Am I right?"

"Whatever price Young Master Zou says, that's the price!" Zhang Baji nodded, then added, "But since Brother Zou has spoken too, I can't be stingy. Two million it is! What do you say, Boss Kang?"

"My property has a title deed. The construction area on it is two hundred and eighty square meters. And I have the renovation..." How could Kang's father sell the teahouse for two million? If Zhang Baji had offered four million, he would have let it go and been done with it. But two million—that was far too great a gap!

After all, the family lived in the teahouse too. If they sold it, they would have to buy a new home. Even buying outside the good parts of the city, out here near the shantytown on Ningshi Road, would cost over eight thousand a square meter. A single apartment would run more than a million. If two million went to a house, what would be left? How would the family live?

"Who buys a renovation when they buy a house?" Zou Ruoguang cut in again. "Are you stupid, old man? Haven't you heard? Money spent on renovation is money thrown away. What buyer of secondhand property cares about your renovation?"

"But..." Kang's father was choked speechless by this one remark, and he dared not argue back. Zou Ruoguang was a gang boss, after all—one wrong word and the man might start swinging. He did not dare provoke him.

"I say we settle it like this. Since you say two hundred and eighty square meters, then it's two-eight. I'll give you two million eight hundred thousand!" Zhang Baji's own ceiling had in fact been four million, but he had previously sent someone to ask Kang's father, and four million had been refused! Fine. If you won't sell, then I'll just have to find a way to make you sell!

Naturally, Zhang Bajie could no longer offer Kang's father the price of four million yuan, since he had already paid Zou Tiandi five hundred thousand to settle the matter, and Zou Tiandi had promised to secure the teahouse for him for no more than three million.

"President Zhang, business ought to be fair, wouldn't you say... A while back, someone else offered me four million for this teahouse of mine..." Kang's father was hardly skilled at negotiation and promptly revealed his bottom line: "How about you give me four million too, and I'll sell!"