Despite the fact that Song Shaobai's shop has been lowering the prices of ready-made clothes.

But in the end, not many people paid any attention.

Most people are driven by this mentality.

"Before, you sold it for three or four ounces, but now you're offering a 10% discount. Since you're making so much profit, shouldn't you reduce the price even further? Otherwise, why would you even open a shop?"

Some people started stirring up trouble.

"Let me tell you, I didn't dare to say this before, but some people kept saying that the Song family is a powerful clan from the prefectural city with a long history and a guaranteed reputation."

I didn't dare say anything. I like to tell the truth; their prices are indeed higher than others. You can't stop people from telling the truth, can you?

As Song Shaobai listened to what those people were saying, he seemed to realize something.

At the beginning, he set the bar too high, and there was a bad apple next door who seemed to be lowering prices more and more, but the more he sold, the less he could sell. On the contrary, when he kept the original price, he could still sell ten or so items a day. It was just ridiculous.

Moreover, he astutely observed that those praising the Song family's goods as good and those praising them as bad seemed to be from the same group of people.

Song Shaobai's small head was filled with great doubts.

At the same time, Uncle Fu sent people to investigate Song Shaobai's whereabouts, spending a lot of money and half a month to find a message specially made by carrier pigeon.

Fu Pingan hurriedly returned from outside and handed over a letter.

Uncle Fu looked surprised and handed it to Chen Xian.

Chen Xian waved his hand and tentatively asked, "This person's identity must be fake, right?"

Uncle Fu nodded.

Fu Pingan took the paper, only to see that the last sentence on it read: "Song Shaobai of the Song family died suddenly from an illness a year ago."

Fu Pingan stared wide-eyed. “Something’s not right! Something’s not right. If they didn’t look alike, the Gu family would have forgotten what Song Shaobai looks like in just one year, wouldn’t they?”

That makes absolutely no sense.

"The imposter got a very low price for the Gu family's cloth. If he really is a fake, how could Gu Junshan agree to it?"

Fu Lun shook his head. "Perhaps the Gu family is so preoccupied with our time and energy that they no longer have time to distinguish between truth and falsehood."

I've heard many tales of the martial arts world; perhaps this person possesses an extremely skillful disguise, or perhaps it's a human skin mask.

"Anyway, Brother Chen mentioned it before. This guy is quite stingy, even towards the attendants who protect him. They always wear the same slightly wrinkled robe."

It just looks weird no matter how you look at it.

"Brother, what do you think?"

Chen Xian: "I'll watch it lying down."

"..."

I do miss Liu Quan and Jimao a little.

I hope I make it in time, otherwise I won't be able to sleep peacefully.

Fu Pingan smiled and said, "Alright, you've been pretending with me for so long."

"Dad, let's go, it's time to show off my negotiation skills."

...

As Song Shaobai saw the group enter, he snapped, "What brings you all here?"

"Hey, you're not welcome here, Young Master Song? Aren't you tired of pretending to be a rich kid for so long?"

I don't know what you're talking about?

Fu Ping'an sneered, "What the hell are you pretending for? Song Shaobai died a year ago..."

A long silence followed.

Song Shaobai smiled faintly.

"Name your price. How much are you willing to offer for the five hundred sets of ready-made clothes in my shop?"

Fu Pingan stretched out his finger, revealing a two.

Song Shaobai said calmly, "Alright, I can give Young Master Fu a discount on two taels."

"What the hell are you thinking?"

"Two hundred coins."

"impossible!"

"My cost price is more than that."

"One tael and nine mace".

"Three hundred coins."

"One tael and eight mace."

"Four hundred coins."

"One tael and seven mace..."

"Alright, there's no point in saying more. Young Master Song doesn't want the Song family to find out that you're impersonating a member of the Song family, does he?"

"One tael is the limit; otherwise, I would rather take it back to Yingzhou Prefecture to sell."

"Nine hundred coins, that's my limit. Otherwise, how could you possibly leave Lushang County?"

"You! You've gone too far!"

"Rub, rub, rub!"

Fu Ping'an pouted, his face arrogant, and began to make strange noises.

"Now you know how painful it is, but it's nothing. Back then, when you, my dad, and Uncle Xian were making threats and desperately trying to drive down the price of fabric, did you have that leisurely and indifferent demeanor?"

"Damn it, what are you pretending to be, acting all high and mighty?! Go to hell!"

Fu Ping'an immediately flipped over the other party's tea table.

He has a gloomy, arrogant air about him, and his presence is extremely oppressive.

"To deal with pretentious people like you, you should have someone smash your head into your crotch with a big stick."

Pooh!

Shui Sheng said helplessly, "Young Master, tone it down. You're making us look like the villains."

Fu Pingan said coldly, "To deal with this kind of trash, you have to not give the brat a good look. It's just that my dad doesn't want to talk to him, and Uncle Xian doesn't bother with this kind of person. Otherwise, I would have someone beat him to death and feed him to the dogs in the outer city. What are you pretending for?"

The ultimate enjoyment of foul breath.

Song Shaobai nearly fainted from anger.

What

Chen Xian didn't care. How did Qingyunlou and Xu Pingchao disappear? They slunk away. That person was the most cunning.

Song Shaobai pressed his handprint on the paper with a stiff expression.

Fu Ping'an handed over four hundred and fifty taels of silver with a smile.

"Hurry up, if you can still sell it for nine hundred coins, you should be burning incense in gratitude."

Once this product is available in my shop, the price will keep dropping. At nine hundred coins, you simply won't be able to sell it; you'll just be waiting to die.

To prevent this brat from making any trouble, he ordered his men to rush into the warehouse and move all the ready-made clothes away.

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