Wang Lixia was always in charge of providing lunch for the workers.
Sheng Qian said, "The workers have a lot of work to do, so tell Aunt Wang to buy more meat and not to skimp on it."
"I understand. Then be careful when you set up your stall."
They left home early today, before eight o'clock.
"Why are we setting up our stall so early?" Zhou Ran asked, looking at Sheng Qian pushing her bicycle with a puzzled expression.
"Buy a bicycle."
Why buy this?
"I'll ride you and you'll follow me?" Sheng Qian glanced at her.
Just imagining that scene, Zhou Ran immediately shook his head, "Of course I wouldn't run after them."
Sheng Qian took Zhou Ran to buy a bicycle, and then the two rode back to the stall from yesterday.
Yesterday, some people who had used the ointment were already waiting at the same spot, saying that one bottle was too small and not enough, and that their relatives also wanted to use it.
Some people want to buy an extra bottle to give as a gift.
Good products are genuine once people use them; there's no need for extensive advertising.
One night will pass, and not many people will use it immediately.
Yesterday, only about ten people bought the ointment.
Although Sheng Qian displayed all the necessary documents, people at this point wouldn't even look at them, nor would they have that strong awareness of their importance.
Therefore, only when the things in your possession are truly good can people use them.
Apart from the two or three people who came back to buy in the morning, no matter how much Zhou Ran promoted it today, they only came to try out the moisturizing effect on their hands, and not a single bottle was sold.
Sheng Qian remained calm and composed, unlike someone trying to sell their own product.
Zhou Ran was initially a little anxious, but seeing Sheng Qian like this, he was no longer anxious.
3 PM.
Sheng Qian then told Zhou Ran to pack up and leave.
"We're not going to set off anymore?"
"Go sell it elsewhere."
Where to?
Where did we first meet?
"You're not planning to go to a place like that to find business, are you?!" Zhou Ran's eyes widened.
“I’ll go wherever there are lots of women,” Sheng Qian said.
Zhou Ran didn't say anything more.
What she was worried about was running into Gao Jie and his group.
After returning and setting up their stall, Sheng Qian had Zhou Ran pack up the packaged beauty cream, and then rode her bicycle to a busy area to promote it.
He would approach any woman he encountered on the street who seemed like a potential catch and try to sell her his products.
To better promote the product, Shengqian also made many small bottles, the same size as the packaging of Tiger Balm, which are very convenient to carry. Giving away such a quantity of trial packs will not result in a loss.
Once we arrived at the venue, we left the bicycles at the storage area and then split up to sell them, agreeing to return at 6:30.
The two went in different directions, and when they encountered someone who might be a potential success story, they tried to sell their products to them.
Many people would definitely not refuse a free sample.
But getting the other party to buy immediately is simply impossible.
Long Yunting, dressed in a gray uniform, sat in a wheelchair, turned around, and blocked Sheng Qian's way.
When Sheng Qian saw him suddenly appear, she looked around.
"Are you on duty in this area?"
Sheng Qian already knew Long Yunting's true identity.
However, his outfit resembled a security company uniform rather than proper clothing.
When Sheng Qian was wondering what Long Yunting was doing, Long Yunting said, "I have left the ministry and am now working for the Beijing patrol team."
Sheng Qian's gaze shifted downwards.
They transferred him to a new job so quickly?
He's only twenty years old.
But given the condition of his legs, there must have been the above considerations.
Sheng Qian did not look down on Long Yunting in the slightest because of his position as a patrolman; on the contrary, she admired him.
Despite the huge difference in his social status, he acted as if nothing had happened.
"What are you doing."
Long Yunting looked at what she was holding and asked.
Sheng Qian said, "Sales."
“I can help.”
"This is a skincare product. What are you trying to sell to a bunch of men?" Sheng Qian was speechless.
“My team members all have families, and many of them are female comrades,” Long Yunting reminded Sheng Qian, reaching out and easily taking a portion of the samples from her hands.
"No need," Sheng Qian said, afraid that he would use the special channel to solicit customers for her again, which would make her owe him even more.
Long Yunting placed it on his lap, and Sheng Qian could only pull her hand back if she tried to take it, as it might touch his thigh.
“You don’t need to work so hard on yourself. I can use my salary however I want. It’s more convenient to hire workers myself,” Long Yunting said, seeing her outside in the sun soliciting customers. He felt a pang of sadness.
When the topic of Long Yunting's money came up, Sheng Qian wanted to return it to him.
Then, as if remembering something, he said, "It's dangerous for your money to stay with me. Since you're unwilling to take it back, then let's invest it."
"You can do whatever you want with this; you don't need to inform me."
The money was given to Sheng Qian so that she could use it.
"I'll buy you a house."
"I don't need these."
“It’s an investment with great potential for future growth and good returns,” Sheng Qian thought it was a viable option.
I also plan to buy more land and houses.
When we sell them later, they'll be making a fortune!
“It’s not for me, it’s for you,” Long Yunting said. He didn’t need a house. The Long family’s place was big enough. He rarely went home throughout the year, so buying a house would just leave it empty.
Sheng Qian ignored him and said, "Bring me your ID card; it's useful."
Long Yunting said, "I'll send it over tonight."
"There's no rush."
"Send it over tonight."
"Whatever you want." Sheng Qian knew she couldn't persuade this man, so she didn't. He loved to cause trouble, so she let him do what he wanted.
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