Damn it, Mei Liulang directly sold the cloth shop to the Fu family.

Anyway, Uncle Fu told everyone that since it looked cheap, why not take it?

Shut your mouth, Mei Liulang has absolutely no relation to me, I don't know him, and I'll deny it to the death.

Gu Junshan calmly asked, "Manager Fu, when did I offend you?"

Uncle Fu smiled and said, "I don't care about the Gu family's affairs at all. I bought the cloth from Mei Liulang because it was cheap."

Who would complain about money being too hard to handle? What do you say, Boss Gu?

Gu Junshan turned his head and said, "Manager Fu, the cloth business is a very complicated place. You are a newcomer to the business, so even if you take over the cloth business, you won't be able to keep it."

This is a hostel near the river, where you can see the deep waterway just by opening the window.

The door opened, and a young man with his chest exposed reclined on a chair, grapes beside him, and a maid standing next to him.

The maid was gently peeling the fruit with her delicate, fair fingers, then tying it up with a toothpick and feeding it to the young master's mouth.

Use a small dish to catch it, so that the sticky juice doesn't drip onto the young master's white clothes.

The young master even deliberately licked the maid's delicate fingers with his tongue while eating grapes, making the maid blush with embarrassment.

The young nobleman said to himself, "It's just that it's daytime now; otherwise, I would definitely jump into the river to cool off at night."

Uncle Fu asked gently, "May I ask how you are addressed, young master?"

Chen Xian frowned slightly. Is this what young masters from the south are like? So sleazy.

Such frivolous behavior when discussing business.

Especially the way the young master glanced at people, paused abruptly, and then looked away—it seemed like he was staring at people at a 30-degree or 45-degree angle, which was inexplicably strange.

He chuckled lightly and said, "My surname is Song. May I ask how you two are addressed?"

Uncle Fu: "Young Master Song, my surname is Fu. This is my business partner, Chen Xian."

Song Shaobai stood up indifferently, not caring whether he had any juice on him or not. He put on his clothes, stood up barefoot, shook his wide sleeves, pinched his thumb and middle finger together, and spoke in a slightly high-pitched voice.

He said succinctly, "This time the Song family needs seven hundred bolts of Huanhua brocade and three hundred bolts of Qianyun gauze. I wonder if Manager Fu can provide them within half a month?"

Uncle Fu and Chen Xian exchanged a glance, slightly taken aback.

What you fear most is what happens.

Huanhua Brocade still has stock in the warehouse. A batch was recently sold, and they are still looking for workers to continuously produce more, so there shouldn't be any major problems.

Damn it, three hundred bolts of Qianyun yarn, that's quite a challenge.

Song Shaobai asked expressionlessly, "Is there a problem?"

Uncle Fu, with his neck stiff, said, "No problem, Young Master Song."

As they went out, Uncle Fu was a little puzzled. "Brother Chen, you guessed right. It's exactly what I feared."

But Chen Xian just stared at the closed door without saying a word.

"Brother Chen?"

It took several calls for Chen Xian to come to his senses.

"Is there something wrong with this person?"

Chen Xian shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe it's just my imagination. I feel like something's not right everywhere."

Uncle Fu: "It seems that the remaining Qianyun yarn business can only be handed over to the Gu family."

As the two were walking down the street, they suddenly heard a man shouting, "Old brother, it's been so many years! I almost didn't recognize you when I saw you on the street!"

Chen Xian suddenly stopped in his tracks!

"What's wrong?"

Uncle Fu was puzzled.

"Brother, this young master from a prominent family loves listening to and watching operas, to the point of obsessively imitating them?"

"What's the meaning?"