Chen Hong, a native of Shandong, felt that Shanghainese were notoriously stingy. She thought that in Shandong, the same dishes would only cost 200 yuan and she could eat much more. This was the first time in her two lives that she had eaten in Shanghai, and Chen Hong felt cheated.

Thus, Chen Hong's appetite attracted the attention of many people in the restaurant. It seemed that Shanghainese people didn't eat much, only small portions, like kittens. If someone like that went out to sea with Chen Hong, they would get seasick and unable to stand before they even did any work, swaying from side to side like a willow tree in the wind.

Chen Hong, a working-class woman, believes that pretending to be elegant while not having enough to eat is a sign of illness, a serious illness.

Eating is a simple matter of eating. When you're hungry, you eat; when you're full, you put down your bowl, prepare some small dishes of vinegar, and savor each bite like feeding a cat. This isn't just eating; it's gourmet appreciation, something only the wealthy and leisurely can do.

But looking around, Chen Hong noticed that most of the people in the restaurant seemed to be ordinary citizens or low-level clerks. Shouldn't the truly wealthy be dining in private rooms at five-star hotels, not eating at such an inexpensive restaurant?

"I can't understand it, I really can't understand it. Shanghai people are so pretentious, Shandong people just don't get it," Chen Hong shook her head. Wang Chen, seeing Chen Hong like this, kept chuckling. He was from Henan, and his family were farmers in the countryside.

He told Chen Hong that when he first came to Shanghai, he was not used to the small plates, small bowls, and small dishes that Shanghainese serve, and the food was only a little bit.

After more than a decade of trials and tribulations, and the harsh lessons of society, he is now almost a typical Shanghainese, and his lifestyle has changed accordingly.

Chen Hong smiled and shook her head, thinking to herself that even if she lived another lifetime, her lifestyle wouldn't change. She worked day and night as a manual laborer; her appetite was definitely large, and she would never feel full even after eating just a little bit.

She would rather gnaw on a big steamed bun the size of a fist than eat small, apricot-like pastries, which are too unsatisfying and torture.

After dinner, the two found a teahouse, where Chen Hong ordered two baskets of pastries, enjoying them while sipping tea. Wang Chen then introduced her to the three residential complexes in which she wanted to buy. Wang Chen couldn't understand why Chen Hong, a wealthy woman, wouldn't buy high-value villas or townhouses. Why did she only look for newly built complexes in remote, underdeveloped areas with relatively low prices?

Are rich people really that morbidly minded, wanting to buy a small house to live a life of quiet seclusion in the city? Hearing Wang Chen's question, Chen Hong told him, "Brother, I mainly buy houses for investment; living in them is just a side thing. Sometimes I might not even come to Shanghai to live in my own house once a year."

"I mainly rent it out, and when you rent it out, you'll definitely need to rent to out-of-towners, usually families of three to five. The most suitable size is 70 to 120 square meters. And you can't choose a high-end neighborhood; choose a regular, affordable one. That way, it'll be easier to rent out and sell later, making it easier to liquidate your assets. Do you understand, brother?"

Upon hearing Chen Hong's explanation, Wang Chen immediately understood the logic. Chen Hong didn't actually live there; she mainly used it for investment and rental. No wonder the rich get richer—their money was all used to make more money, while his was all going towards paying off debts.

The two of them, holding a layout plan of the apartments, marked and selected several suitable units in different complexes with red pens, studying them for over half an hour before finally deciding on a few suitable apartments. After a satisfying meal, they took a taxi straight to their destination.

First, they went to Fenghua Waterfront in Putuo District. Wang Chen had a colleague there who helped Chen Hong get the lowest discount. The 7,700 square meter house was sold to the public, and Chen Hong received 7,400 yuan per square meter.

There were two apartments available, each with two units per floor and one elevator, that hadn't been sold yet. Chen Hong was very satisfied with the floor plan and layout; each apartment was 104 square meters, a perfect size. Chen Hong immediately reserved both apartments, collected the necessary documents, signed the contract on the spot, and paid a deposit of 40,000 yuan. She just needed to wait for the bank's approval the next day, sign the papers, apply for the loan, and pay the down payment to complete the transaction.

To expedite the loan approval process, Chen Hong called Director Guan at the Beijing branch of the Industrial and Commercial Bank of China (ICBC), hoping for his assistance. They were both in the same system, so he figured he could have connections at the Shanghai branch. Director Guan didn't disappoint; his college classmate now worked at the Shanghai branch, and a simple phone call was all it took to finalize Chen Hong's loan application.

At 4 p.m., they went to Pudong New Area and bought a 120-square-meter three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment for 7,700 yuan per square meter. They also got the highest discount and agreed to sign the contract, pay the down payment, and apply for a loan the next day.

That evening, Chen Hong treated Wang Chen and two of his colleagues to dinner, which cost Chen Hong over 3,000 yuan. She also exchanged contact information with Liu Huashu and Wang Chaoyang; Chen Hong had gained a lot. They agreed to meet at nine o'clock the next morning, and the three of them left together.

Chen Hong found a nearby star-rated hotel and checked in. In today's society, Chen Hong would rather spend more money to stay in a proper hotel, at least she wouldn't hear any strange noises at night and nothing unpleasant would happen.