Chapter Thirty-Two: Spectators of the Spectacle

Zhang Wei turned his head and saw a man and a woman approaching him. The man was tall and corpulent, his hair slicked back and shiny—a familiar face he had seen earlier at the entrance to Jingxuan Hall. It was none other than Fatty Zhou. Beside him stood a tall, strikingly beautiful woman, his companion, who had just called out Zhang Wei's name.

“Brother Zhang, do you still remember your old pal?” Fatty Zhou strode forward, grinning broadly.

“I do. We met just now at the entrance to Jingxuan Hall. How could I not recognize you?” Though Zhang Wei had no idea why Fatty Zhou was seeking him out, he stepped forward and responded with a friendly smile.

“Let me introduce you—this is my companion, Liu Yurou,” Fatty Zhou said, gesturing to the woman beside him.

“Miss Liu, nice to meet you,” Zhang Wei nodded to Liu Yurou in greeting.

Zhang Wei was uncertain about the exact nature of the relationship between Liu Yurou and Fatty Zhou, but suspected it might be somewhat ambiguous. He refrained from being overly enthusiastic with Liu Yurou, lest he risk provoking Fatty Zhou’s displeasure.

Liu Yurou responded with a flirtatious smile and a slight nod, acknowledging Zhang Wei’s greeting. She then moved to stand just behind Fatty Zhou’s right side, adopting a gentle, demure posture, making no attempt to overshadow him.

“Brother Zhang, I heard from Miss Murong that you’re in the real estate business. I’ve been thinking about buying an apartment in Beijing, and wanted your advice,” Fatty Zhou patted his round belly and spoke to Zhang Wei in a jovial tone.

“Of course! What kind of place are you looking for, Fatty? When we get back, I’ll help you find something.” Since Fatty Zhou was approaching him as a friend wanting to buy property, Zhang Wei kept the conversation casual rather than overly professional, as one would with friends.

“I usually live alone, so I’m thinking of getting a one-bedroom nearby,” Fatty Zhou said, glancing at Liu Yurou and pausing thoughtfully.

“If you’re living alone, does that mean I won’t be allowed to visit you in the future?” Liu Yurou quickly interjected as soon as Fatty Zhou finished speaking.

Fatty Zhou’s face reddened, his lips twitching with embarrassment. He managed a sheepish smile and said, “Brother Zhang, forgive me for making a fool of myself.”

Zhang Wei merely smiled and didn’t comment further. If he wanted to gauge their thoughts, he would have to ask questions directly. Only then would their intentions become clear. But since this was their first meeting, it would be improper to probe into their relationship, so Zhang Wei remained uncertain about their exact connection and decided not to intrude.

“Brother Zhang, give me your business card. Once we’ve decided what kind of apartment we want, I’ll contact you. How about that?” Seeing Liu Yurou turning away as if to leave, Fatty Zhou quickly pulled a card from his holder and handed it to Zhang Wei. “Here’s my card. Let’s keep in touch by phone.”

“Certainly!” Zhang Wei smiled, taking Fatty Zhou’s pure gold business card. He then pulled out his own card and handed it to Fatty Zhou with both hands.

“All right then, I’ll be off for now. See you next time.” Fatty Zhou accepted Zhang Wei’s card, uttered a quick farewell, and hurried after the indignant Liu Yurou.

“My, how different the wealthy are—even their business cards are made of pure gold,” Zhang Wei mused, admiring the dazzling card with its engraved phone number on the back and the bold characters “Zhou Million” on the front. He laughed inwardly, thinking, “Whether or not this deal goes through, this card alone is worth more than my monthly salary. Worth it!”

Fatty Zhou came and went quickly. After he left, Zhang Wei resumed searching for new potential clients at the banquet. Unfortunately, his luck seemed to have run out; after several conversations, none of the guests showed any interest in buying property, and they merely exchanged cards.

Time flew by. Soon it was nearly ten o’clock and the banquet was drawing to a close. Guests began bidding their farewells and departing. Seeing that most people had left, Zhang Wei wanted to say goodbye to Murong Xuan before leaving himself.

Approaching the restaurant’s exit, he saw Murong Xuan busy seeing guests off. He prepared to go over and say his farewells, but before he could reach her, Murong Xuan turned away to speak with another guest. Zhang Wei waited nearby, but every time he tried to approach, she would turn aside to greet someone else.

Zhang Wei wasn’t foolish—he realized Murong Xuan was deliberately avoiding him. Not wanting to embarrass himself further, he simply walked out of Jingxuan Hall, thinking, “I only wanted to greet you as a courtesy for introducing me to Fatty Zhou, but you don’t appreciate it. From now on, we’re even, don’t expect me to help you again.”

Carrying a hint of annoyance, Zhang Wei left Jingxuan Hall. By the time he returned to his basement room it was already past ten. He had drunk quite a bit that evening; while outside he could still keep his composure, but once lying in bed, the effects of the alcohol caught up with him. Before long, Zhang Wei succumbed to the drowsiness and slipped into a drunken sleep.

Over the next two days, Zhang Wei’s life returned to its usual routine. He met a few clients, but none had much intention of renting or buying, and with the end of the month approaching, Zhang Wei became somewhat lazy, neglecting to follow up with those lacking interest.

“Guo Bin, weren’t you the one who lost the bet the other day when Zhang Wei closed that deal? You promised to treat everyone to dinner, but it’s been days and we haven’t heard a thing,” Li Lin said, lounging in her chair while filing her nails.

“Have you forgotten, or do you think we’ve forgotten?” Wang Jianfa chimed in, egging him on.

“In my opinion, let’s just drop it. Guo Bin hasn’t closed any deals this month, and after deducting platform fees, he hasn’t made much,” Wen Fang, a newcomer to the workforce with a kind heart, spoke up, feeling a bit sorry for Guo Bin.

“Little sister Wen Fang is right. Guo Bin doesn’t have much money. If he treats us to a meal, he won’t have anything left for next month’s expenses,” Wang Minjiao snorted, casting a sidelong glance at Zhang Wei. She continued, “If you ask me, we should get the wealthiest among us to treat. It’s not like he’s short of cash.”

Zhang Wei heard the sarcastic tone in Wang Minjiao’s words and knew she was referring to him as “the richest.” He had no issue with treating everyone to dinner, but he couldn’t openly admit to being “the richest,” so he simply stared absentmindedly at the beauties outside, ignoring Wang Minjiao’s jibes.

“Wang, I don’t like what you’re saying. Why wouldn’t I have money? Why wouldn’t I be able to treat you all? Can’t you talk without being so mean?” Guo Bin’s face was livid as he slammed the table, rebuking Wang Minjiao.

Guo Bin’s affection for Wen Fang was no secret, and he always tried to maintain a gentlemanly image in front of her. But if he couldn’t even afford to treat everyone to a meal, his gentlemanly persona would be a joke. Wang Minjiao’s words had cost him face in front of Wen Fang, so his reaction was fierce.

“Guo Bin, can’t you understand? I said that because I didn’t want you to treat,” Wang Minjiao retorted, her original intention having been to poke fun at Zhang Wei—she hadn’t expected Guo Bin to take offense instead.

“Guo Bin, Wang didn’t mean anything else, don’t take it to heart,” Wen Fang tried to console him.

“If you’re incompetent, you won’t let others speak? Do you think I’m easy to bully?” Wang Minjiao sneered.

“Wang, just let it go. We’re all colleagues, no need to take everything so seriously,” Wen Fang said.

“Pretending to be a good person, huh? It’s all because of you. I’m not buying it,” Wang Minjiao muttered, though loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“I’m not pretending to be a good person,” Wen Fang replied, her eyes reddening in distress.

“Wang Minjiao, if you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t bully Wen Fang,” Guo Bin thundered, pointing at Wang Minjiao.

“Well, what did I say? If I’m not pretending to be a good person, then I’m pretending to be pitiful. Either way, I’m always the villain,” Wang Minjiao laughed coldly.

Guo Bin, Wen Fang, and Wang Minjiao’s confrontation had turned the atmosphere in the office tense. Li Lin, Zhang Wei, and Wang Jianfa remained uninvolved, watching the drama unfold with a hint of amusement.

“Oh please, is it worth all this fuss? Stop arguing, all of you,” Li Lin clapped her hands, smiling. “Zhang Wei, you’ve had the best performance this month—you’re the wealthiest. I’ll decide for you: treat everyone to dinner, alright?”

“Alright, I wouldn’t refuse you, Lin!” Zhang Wei agreed readily. For someone earning eighty thousand a month, the cost of a meal was trivial, and it was a good chance to strengthen bonds with his colleagues—why not?

“Great, dinner’s settled for tonight. I’ll call and book a table,” Wang Jianfa said, who had the best relationship with Zhang Wei and didn’t stand on ceremony now that Zhang Wei was well-off.

Zhang Wei glanced around the room and couldn’t help but find it amusing. Li Lin had sparked the quarrel, stirred up the hornet’s nest, then calmly watched the show from the sidelines. When she’d had her fill, she played peacemaker, leaving everyone with nothing to say. That was some skill—he’d have to learn from her.