Jiang Shuyue pointed to a three-courtyard house and said, "This three-courtyard house on Wenxuan Street is quite nice. I wonder if the price listed here can be negotiated?"
Fang Yazi smiled broadly and said, "Miss, you have a good eye. This courtyard is right next to Bairu Academy, which will make it very convenient for your son to study in the future."
"A good horse deserves a good saddle, and a good house deserves a good price. Please forgive me, young lady, there are no inflated prices listed in the brochure."
Jiang Shuyue frowned slightly, her tone filled with regret, "A two-courtyard house is too small, while a three-courtyard house is just right. It seems we'll have to find another place."
Jiang Shuyue closed the booklet as she spoke.
After pouring the tea, Cang Yun did not leave; he served Jiang Shuyue from the left.
Cang Yun's eyes were sharp; he had clearly seen that Jiang Shuyue's gaze had lingered on the longest four-courtyard house on Guixiang Street.
Based on Gao Mu's investigation of the Zhenfu last night, Cangyun suddenly realized that his master was not interested in the courtyard on Wenxuan Street.
Seeing that Jiang Shuyue quickly lost the desire to continue watching, Fang Yazi was surprised that he had misjudged the situation and felt extremely annoyed.
If you haven't made a definitive statement, you can at least negotiate the price.
Watching such a big buyer slip away is heartbreaking.
Undeterred, the broker said, "Miss, you can look further ahead. There are several more three- or four-courtyard houses up there."
"Fourth time?"
"Wouldn't that be even more expensive!"
Jiang Shuyue remained motionless, showing no intention of taking the booklet back to look at it.
Fang Yazi slipped away as soon as he saw the fat meat in his mouth, and stopped trying to be clever.
He forced a stiff smile. "Let me be frank with you, young lady. The best-selling houses in the capital are two-courtyard houses. Many people can't afford three- or four-courtyard houses, and very few people inquire about them."
Jiang Shuyue stared intently at the doorman, her tone cold as she asked, "Then tell me, which courtyards are rarely inquired about?"
He saw that the girl's bright eyes were clear and bright, as if she were chatting with him about everyday things.
The broker spoke with utmost sincerity: “Take the courtyard on the east side for example. The neighbors there are all wealthy and powerful families. They rarely sell their private residences. No matter how big the courtyard is, it will be gone in a few days once it’s put up for sale.”
"The west, north, and south are no good. Take that four-courtyard house on Guixiang Street for example. It's been listed with our Xinghe Pawnshop for over a year, but no one has shown any interest in it."
Cangyun rarely chimed in: "That courtyard must be priced too high. Nobody's a fool to buy a courtyard! Of course, they'll just look at it and move on."
Jiang Shuyue: "..."
You're the idiot...
“You’ve misunderstood, sir. It’s not that the landlord is asking for a high price. It’s just that the year is bad and there aren’t many merchants from other places. This four-courtyard house is only asking for a little over 100,000 taels of silver, which is only 10,000 taels more than the three-courtyard house on Wenxuan Street.”
"That courtyard has been occupied by your brokerage firm for a year now; it must be dilapidated and become a den of snakes and rats!"
Jiang Shuyue gave Cang Yun a thumbs up in her heart.
666.
It's surprising that martial arts practitioners aren't all uncultured; they can actually ask such sharp and precise questions.
The broker panicked and quickly stood up, bowing respectfully: "Sir, you are truly an expert. We regularly send people to clean the houses and shops in our Xinghe brokerage firm, so we dare not offend your esteemed presence."
Jiang Shuyue looked up at Cangyun and said casually, "We're just idling around anyway, so let's go for a stroll and maybe go with the manager to look at a few houses."
Cangyun understood and picked up the booklet, handing it over. "While my master is in a good mood, lead the way."
"Alright! Please come forward, young lady. The landlord sent someone to clean the south room today, so now is the perfect time to go." The broker bowed obsequiously and gestured for her to proceed.
Upon hearing that he was going to take a look, Fang Yazi grinned from ear to ear.
The girl seemed indifferent, as if she didn't care whether to buy or not, which made the experienced real estate agent unsure of her.
He was determined to please this God of Wealth today.
Even if it means not making a profit, we must close this deal.
Escorted by Gao Mu and Cang Yun, the group visited two houses in succession.
Just as the group stepped into Guixiang Street, a man limped towards them.
Jiang Shuyue looked up, and the man stared in disbelief.
The man looked on incredulously, muttering to himself, "Impossible, impossible, isn't she already dead?"
"It's so similar, it's really so similar."
"Brother Yang, why are you going back so early today? Didn't you see any masterpieces?" At this moment, a scholar came up and patted the man on the shoulder.
The cripple was none other than Yang Mao, Yang's nephew.
Looking at the beauty mark between the eyebrows of the girl opposite him, Yang Mao felt a pang of pain in his heart.
If he had known he would get her killed, he would never have listened to his aunt and his sister Jiao'er's instigation.
Once the deed is done and the die is cast, he will be able to win the heart of his beloved.
Pooh!
If that incident hadn't happened, I wouldn't have ended up like this.
With a disability and no hope of entering officialdom, he could only feel a bit of vitality by frequently visiting Qingyunzhai and listening to the scholars' eloquent conversations.
My father was merely a seventh-rank official, yet he sat in the position of Registrar of the Court of Imperial Stud for ten years.
If it weren't for his lame leg, his father could at least have found him a job at the Imperial Stud, even if it was just feeding horses, it would be better than what he has now.
Thinking about the past, Yang Mao hated himself and resented his aunt and cousin.
"Brother Yang, take your time. We'll head to the academy first," the scholar greeted him, then chatted and laughed with the other scholars as they hurried away.
Take it slow, you really have to take it slow. How can a cripple like him walk fast?
Even a word of concern from others sounds particularly harsh to him, as if it were a constant reminder that he is lame.
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