After the divorce, he took care of his child and sold fried rice; his ex-wife was filled with regret

Zhao Daqiang quickly calculated in his mind.

This piece of land has been abandoned for four years, producing no output whatsoever, and I even have to pay the village's contract fee.

Now that he's finally found a tenant who doesn't even care about utilities and just wants a place to rent, he's afraid that asking for too high a price will scare them away.

But after looking at Lin Fan's unhurried attitude, he mustered up his courage and quoted a price.

"Boss Lin, if you want to rent the whole place, just give me 25,000 a year." Zhao Daqiang rubbed his hands together, tentatively looking at Lin Fan's expression.

"This 20-plus acres of land, complete with existing high walls, would fetch an unbeatable price even if you used it as an open-air warehouse."

In the suburbs of a place like Jiangcheng, even on barren land, a detached courtyard with high walls costs 25,000 yuan a year, which is practically free.

"Did you bring the contract?" Lin Fan didn't haggle and went straight to the point.

Zhao Daqiang was stunned, seemingly not expecting Lin Fan to agree so readily.

"Ah? I brought it!" Zhao Daqiang's eyes lit up immediately. He hurriedly ran to the motorcycle, lifted the back seat, and pulled out two slightly yellowed standard rental contracts.

He took a ballpoint pen hanging on the handlebars, placed it on the motorcycle seat, quickly filled in the rent amount of 25,000 yuan and today's date, and then handed it to Lin Fan with both hands.

Lin Fan accepted the contract.

He flipped it open and glanced at it. The terms were very simple, just ordinary rural land leases, without any complicated breach of contract traps.

The ownership of the land is also clear; it is indeed land privately contracted by Zhao Daqiang.

After confirming that everything was in order, Lin Fan placed the contract on the hood of the Wuling Hongguang and signed his name in the "Party B" position.

After signing, Lin Fan took out his phone.

Please provide your bank card number.

Zhao Daqiang quickly read the card number aloud, afraid of misreading a single digit.

Less than half a minute later, Zhao Daqiang's phone rang. He took it out and saw that the annual rent of 25,000 yuan had been deposited into his account.

"Received it, received it!" Zhao Daqiang's face was all wrinkled from smiling.

He deftly removed the large padlock and a bunch of spare keys, and respectfully handed them to Lin Fan.

"Boss Lin, you're so kind! Take all the locks and keys. You can come in and set up the place anytime. If any idlers in the village come to cause trouble, just mention my name, Zhao Daqiang, and I guarantee I'll take care of them."

Lin Fan took the heavy iron lock and weighed it in his hand.

"Okay. It's fine as long as I've received the money." Lin Fan nodded, his tone indifferent.

"Well, Mr. Lin, I have some things to attend to, so I'll be leaving now!"

Zhao Daqiang was in a great mood after receiving the money.

He straddled the dilapidated motorcycle and stepped on the start lever.

The motorcycle sputtered and drove off down the dirt road, belching out a plume of black smoke from its exhaust pipe.

Lin Fan stood there, watching Zhao Daqiang's figure disappear around the corner at the end of the dirt road. Silence returned to the surroundings, broken only by the rustling of the early winter wind through the withered grass.

He turned around, placed his hands on the rusty iron gate, and pushed it open completely.

Back in his Wuling Hongguang, Lin Fan drove the car into the wasteland. He then got out, pushed open the two heavy iron gates, and locked them from the inside with a large padlock.

Now, this twenty-acre wasteland, enclosed by a three-meter-high red brick wall, has become an absolutely closed private space.

Lin Fan walked to the very center of the wasteland, stepping on the withered yellow weeds that were above his knees.

Just then, a crisp electronic voice rang in his mind.

[Ding! A private, enclosed space with absolute control over the host has been detected. Area: 22 acres.]

[Meets the requirements for the implementation of system-derived buildings.]

[Should this location be converted and designated as a 'System Resource Transfer Warehouse'?]

Lin Fan's eyes flickered slightly.

"Confirm the modification," Lin Fan commanded in his mind.

[Transit warehouse under renovation...]

A very slight tremor came from the ground beneath my feet.

Centered on the spot where Lin Fan stood, the withered grass within a radius of two hundred square meters silently sank into the ground.

The originally dry, hard, and whitish alkaline soil was quickly replaced by a smooth and solid cement floor.

Immediately afterwards, a gray steel-structured warehouse rose from the ground, blending perfectly into the desolate orchard backdrop.

From the outside, it looks like an old factory that has been abandoned for many years, without any sense of incongruity.

A large roller shutter door automatically rolled up, revealing the interior space of the warehouse.

Lin Fan stepped inside.

The interior space is divided into three completely independent areas by dustproof partitions.

The electronic screen on the wall lit up, displaying the parameters for each area.

[Room temperature dry goods section: constant temperature 20 degrees Celsius. Suitable for storing rice, flour, grains, oils, dried goods, and spices.]

[Refrigerated compartment: Constant temperature 4 degrees Celsius. Suitable for storing fresh vegetables and eggs.]

[Deep Freezing Zone: -18 degrees Celsius. Suitable for storing meat and seafood.]

In the center of the warehouse, dozens of standard wooden pallets were neatly stacked. There was even a manual hydraulic pallet truck parked next to them.

Lin Fan walked to an empty tray in the room temperature zone, closed his eyes, and connected his consciousness to the system farm.

He chose to extract: 500 jin of Xiangshui tribute rice and 100 jin of pure soybean oil.

Open your eyes.

Ten tightly bound burlap sacks and several large barrels of unlabeled, transparent soybean oil appeared out of nowhere on the tray.

Lin Fan then went to the frozen section and retrieved 200 jin of black mountain pig foreleg meat and 100 jin of processed free-range Sanhuang chicken.

All the meat was packed in clean, sterile plastic crates and stacked on the shelves in the frozen section, emitting wisps of white steam.

Lin Fan looked at everything before him and let out a long sigh of relief.

The huge weight that had been hanging over my heart since the store opened has finally been lifted off my feet.

From then on, all he needed to do was drive his Wuling Hongguang to this suburban warehouse every morning.

Close the gate, extract the supplies from the system farm here, then load them into the trunk of the van, and swagger back to Phoenix Golden Street.

Even if a professional investigator or private detective were to investigate, all they would see would be Lin Fan's daily routine of coming to the suburban warehouse to purchase goods.

As for where the goods in the warehouse came from?

No one can trace the source.

Lin Fan pulled down the roller shutter and locked it.

He got into the Wuling Hongguang and turned the steering wheel to make a U-turn.

Drive up to the large iron gate, get out of the car, unlock it, drive the car out, and then lock the gate again.

The van traveled for more than ten minutes on the bumpy dirt road before merging back onto the smooth asphalt main road.

Lin Fan glanced at the time.

This whole ordeal took more than an hour, and before we knew it, it was already 3 p.m.

We got back to the city just in time.

The car sped along the expressway, and the scenery on both sides changed from desolate woods to towering, dense office buildings.