I am a master in India

Chapter 356 Coaxing
After Ron left with Isa, Sunita was naturally very anxious, but she took out her anger on Ishan.

As the second driver of the Suer family, Ishan was quite tall. But next to Sunita, he was like a chick being crushed.

She dragged Yishan to a nearby alley and executed him on the spot.

Not satisfied with just one time, she ordered Yishan not to stop until she was satisfied.

When Ron saw Ishan again that evening, he needed help to walk.

"Young Master!" Yi Shang stammered, his lips turning white.

"You've worked hard, Ishan." Ron patted him on the shoulder solemnly, looking like he was ready to give him an important task.

"I would do anything for you."

He was very excited, wondering if the young master was going to arrange something else for him.

I heard that Muna used to be just a servant by the young master's side, but after being given important responsibilities, he transformed into a minister!
If I could also
"From now on, that mountain of flesh will be yours." Ron had high hopes for him.

"Huh?" Ishan was stunned.

"In short, I will be in New Delhi for a while."

After the situation in Tamil Nadu eased, Ron was no longer in such a hurry.

As long as Jayalalita does not plead guilty, and the property issue is completely muddied, the court will ultimately be unable to convict him.

It's better to delay it a bit, let the public opinion around Kavia ferment for a while longer, and perhaps it will be easier to resolve later.

Back at his villa, Ron prepared to examine the development of his business empire in North India.

He wasn't worried about the cement plant in Mirzabul, but rather about the newly built mining center in Sombadra, the power plant in Lucknow, and the five-star hotel in Varanasi.

These are all new projects, and they are springing up everywhere, requiring coordinated human and material resources, making this the largest in history.

In particular, the power plant in Lucknow, because it is located near the state capital, can no longer be subject to the same brutal land acquisition policies used in the east.

Ron spent tens of millions of rupees just to coordinate the surrounding land.

If this were in the east, he wouldn't spend a single penny; at most, he would arrange for the families whose land was requisitioned to work in the factory.

From the end of the election in April to now in December, it has taken more than half a year for the power plant to complete its foundation.

This was already considered efficient in Uttar Pradesh, but Ron was still not satisfied.

When he was building the cement plant in Mirzapur, he hired a professional construction team from Odisha.

Odisha has abundant mineral resources, so the supporting industries related to mineral development are also very well-developed.

The power plant being built in Lucknow is different this time. Apart from some specialized facilities, much of the basic engineering work was undertaken by Suhr's own construction company.

This is also to train the team's coordination skills. As long as the design and supervision are strict, the quality of the project can be guaranteed.

In fact, at present, many buildings in the Persian Gulf are being built by Indian workers.

It's not that Indians are unreliable workers; the contractors are the ones who should be blamed for those shoddy projects.

Because none of them were honest in cutting corners; some were even ruthless enough to use one-tenth of the project budget to build what was on the blueprints.

It's a miracle this thing can even stand up; it's perfectly normal for it to fall over in a couple of days.

What do low-level workers know? They just do whatever their bosses tell them to do.

Ron feels a sense of urgency because Adani in Gujarat has also started to venture into private power plants this year.

Quite coincidentally, he invested in this business at almost the same time as Ron.

His power plant primarily served his own docks, but Ron knew that Adani would inevitably continue to expand.

His docks can haul a steady stream of coal, and he has ample resources to develop the power industry.

Gujarat is also developing rapidly and needs a large supply of electricity, so power plants will be in high demand for a long time to come.

Having tasted success, Adani will not hesitate to make a major foray into the power industry.

Well, to be honest, this is also the path Ron plans to take.

His target is Tamil Nadu, where his port of Ennor is located.

He would have also tried to do something in Gujarat if the time was right.

Unfortunately, Adani had an extremely keen sense of smell.

With a population of over a billion, it's normal for India to produce a few people with great vision and courage.

Ron sat down in his study and looked through the reports he had on hand.

Before I could even read a few words, my phone on the desk rang again.

Upon picking it up, I saw it was Isa.

"Ron, Ron, are you asleep?"

"No."

"I'm so happy today."

"Yes, the dress you wore today is very pretty."

"whee."

"How's everything going at home?"

"Dad's drunk! I'm the boss!"

Ron chuckled; he could even imagine the relieved yet proud expression on Isha's face.

"Where is Sunita?"

“She’s even more eager than I am for us to meet now.”

Ron finally couldn't help but laugh out loud, and the image of Ishan trembling appeared before his eyes again.

Well, it seems that Ishan is quite loyal as a servant now.

Ron taught Isa a lot of tricks on how to manage servants, but none of them worked.

All his rich experience in managing subordinates was wasted; in the end, it couldn't compete with matters of the heart.

“I’m currently in New Delhi. Feel free to message me anytime if you want to go out.”

"Then the day after tomorrow?" Isa tentatively inquired.

"I had an appointment with a minister the day after tomorrow."

"All right."

“But for Isha, even the most important minister becomes unimportant.” “You’re so kind, Ron!” Isha lay alone on the bed in the room, rolling around happily.

"When we have the chance, I'll take you to Dubai."

"Great!" Isha exclaimed with anticipation.

After replying to a few messages, Ron put his phone on the table.

It's so easy to coax a little girl.

It has to be said that text messages are incredibly effective at influencing young men and women.

Unlike face-to-face conversations, it allows ample time for both parties to imagine various scenarios.

For girls like Isa, text messaging is a novelty, faster than writing letters, and irresistible.

Ron put his phone down, but it kept ringing.

It made him uneasy even when looking at reports. Sometimes he really wanted to just pick up his phone and make a call, but he couldn't bear to ruin Isha's beautiful fantasy about love.

Never mind, I'll get to know her better before calling her.

That silly girl probably still doesn't realize that a cell phone is for making calls.

However, when the topic of the phone came up, Ron picked up his phone and dialed a number.

He needs to call Satya to talk about Bihar.

While the Socialist Party suffered a crushing defeat in the general election, it still holds fifty or sixty seats in parliament.

More than four hundred members of parliament, who make up one-seventh of the total.

This is the significance of the opposition party; to some extent, they can oversee the ruling party's decisions.

Lucknow has more than twenty ministers and many administrative positions, and the opposition is mostly concentrated there.

Therefore, Satya's failure to be selected does not mean that he has nothing to do.

Ron planned to take him to New Delhi so they could meet with the minister in Bihar.

Coincidentally, Satya was recently in New Delhi.

He knew he would be marginalized in Uttar Pradesh, and that the Dalit woman, having just won a victory, would surely be swaggering around.

Satya couldn't be bothered to look at her dark face, so she decided to come to Delhi to make connections.

Moreover, the Socialist Party, the BJP, and the Progressive Party had only recently formed a cooperative relationship, so the alliance was unlikely to develop cracks so quickly.

Satya knew he had no chance for the time being, so he chose to lie low.

He goes out every day, either to attend salons or cocktail parties, or perhaps simply to create opportunities to bump into some official.

Barum became his personal driver in New Delhi, and whenever the basement doorbell rang, he would rush upstairs immediately.

These new apartment buildings in New Delhi also have their own servants' quarters, which are actually dirty and messy basements.

The servants eat, play, and sleep here; they even have to listen to the electric bell while they play cards.

If the upstairs resident needs anything, they just need to press the doorbell.

The servants would rush to the board on the wall to see which room number had a flashing red light, and then they would know which room was calling their servants upstairs.

Barum had only been living here a short time; he was still a newcomer.

In any part of the world, newcomers are the object of ridicule.

He went down two floors and pushed open the door to the servants' quarters.

As soon as the door opened, the servants inside screamed and laughed wildly.

A driver with vitiligo on his lips sat among them and was laughing the loudest.

Yes, it was Kishan, Muna's servant, the driver with vitiligo whom they met back then.

As fate would have it, Barum also encountered him; their owners lived in the same apartment building.

The driver with vitiligo resorted to his old tricks again, using his identity as someone from the filthy place to get close to Barum.

They are from the same hometown, so it's normal for them to let their guard down.

He told the servants in the basement all the questions Barum had asked.

What's the problem? It's outside an office building.

Barum, like Muna's servant Kishan, was very curious about those glass-curtain buildings.

He pointed to a building with posters of beautiful women hanging on it and asked, "This is a shopping mall. What about this building on the left? Is it also a shopping mall? Why doesn't it have any posters of beautiful women on it?"

"This isn't a shopping mall, you country rat. This is an office building; you can make phone calls to the United States from here."

"What call?"

“I don’t know. My master’s daughter works in a building like this. I take her to work at eight o’clock every night and she gets off work at two o’clock in the morning.”

I know she makes a lot of money here because I see her buying things like crazy in the shopping mall all day long.

The driver with vitiligo moved a little closer to Barum, his lips only centimeters apart. "I'm telling you, don't tell anyone, but I always feel there's something strange about this. A girl goes to work in the building late at night, and then comes out the next morning with a wad of cash in her pocket."

He winked at Barum. "Any other questions, country rat? You're a curious fellow."

Barum looked at a girl who had just come out of the mall.

"So, country rat? Do you like her?"

Barum blushed. "Do city girls like her also have armpit and leg hair, just like country girls?"

Yes, that's why everyone was laughing so hard; the driver with vitiligo explained it all.

They not only laughed wildly, but also came over one by one, patted Barum's hair, patted his back, and called him "a country bumpkin who's never seen the world."

The servant always wanted to insult the other servants.

It's in their nature; just as Alsatian dogs like to attack strangers, they like to attack acquaintances.

From that time and place onward, Barum made up his mind: he would never again tell anyone, especially his servants, any of his thoughts in Delhi.

He even wanted to switch rooms and not stay with them.

But before he could ask, the doorbell rang; it was the owner's room number!

Barum took off running towards the elevator, faster than a dog.

(End of this chapter)