At the start, I had to choose one of four options, and I immediately picked the Brahmin from the cou

Old Wang had lived for sixty-eight years, and for the first time, he felt unsure of where to put his hands.

350,000.

His 70-square-meter old apartment has been listed with a real estate agency for more than half a year, with the price dropping from 230,000 to 210,000, but not a single person has seriously inquired about the price. A few days ago, he was sighing to his wife, saying that he was afraid he was stuck with this dilapidated building, and his son was short 200,000 yuan for the down payment on his new house, so anxious that he even got blisters on his lips.

But now, two sacks of cash were piled up on the edge of the flower bed in front of him. The bright red banknotes gleamed in the morning light. The Wencheng boss, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and smoking a cigar, looked at him with a smile, waiting for him to nod.

Three hundred and fifty thousand, a full fourteen thousand higher than his asking price. What does that mean? It's not only enough for the down payment on his son's new house, but it can also cover the renovation costs, and there's even tens of thousands left over for his wife's medical treatment and medicine.

"Three...three hundred and fifty thousand? In cash?"

"Cash, full payment, not a penny less."

The man with gold-rimmed glasses smiled amiably, "Uncle Wang, if you sign now, you can keep the 50,000 yuan deposit in your pocket. We'll transfer the remaining 300,000 yuan to the bank this morning, and the property will be transferred directly this afternoon as soon as the housing authority opens. From signing to receiving the money, it won't take more than four hours."

Four hours.

These four hours are equivalent to a lifetime of work in this shabby factory.

Old Wang could no longer hold the birdcage, so he shoved it into his neighbor's hands. He rubbed his calloused hands vigorously along the seams of his trousers, his voice trembling, "Sign! I'll sign! Where's the contract? Where's the contract?"

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses smiled and reached behind him. The bodyguard-like man immediately pulled out a stack of printed contracts from his handbag, complete with a pen and its cap unscrewed.

Xu Qiang stood three steps away, his face ashen, his teeth grinding together.

He wanted to bid, but couldn't bring himself to say it. Three hundred and twenty thousand was his limit, and the little cash he had in his bag was nothing compared to the other guy's two sacks of cash. Monkey, anxiously scratching his head, whispered, "Brother Qiang, how about we—"

"Shut up," Xu Qiang squeezed out through gritted teeth.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses laid the contract on the hood of the Audi A6, pointed to the signature panel, and said to Old Wang, "Uncle Wang, just sign here and put your fingerprint on it. Oh, and just a reminder, the penalty for breach of contract is three times the purchase price, and the deposit is 20%. These are the rules, please take a look."

Old Wang had no interest in reading the contract. He grabbed the pen, his hand trembling so badly that he poke the paper several times without signing his name. He took a deep breath, steadied his wrist, and wrote the two characters "Wang De" in a crooked manner.

The radical for "grass" is not yet finished.

Suddenly, a rough, large hand reached out from the side and grabbed his wrist.

The grip was incredibly strong; Old Wang's entire arm was pulled, and the pen left a long, dark mark on the contract, tearing through the paper.

"Old Wang! Are you crazy?!"

An elderly man with gray hair, wearing faded blue overalls, pushed his way out of the crowd, his face full of anxiety, gripping Old Wang's wrist tightly. Behind him were two other elderly people of similar age, their expressions also not good.

"Old Zhou? Why are you pulling me!" Old Wang was anxious. He was about to get 350,000 yuan when this unexpected trouble came out of nowhere.

"What are you doing?" The old man called Old Zhou glared at Old Wang, lowered his voice, and whispered in his ear, "Have you lost your mind? Don't you think about why these people are fighting over our dilapidated house like it's a cabbage?"

Old Wang was stunned for a moment: "Isn't that...isn't it because the boss in Wencheng is rich...?"

"Are you burning money? Five thousand yuan per square meter for this dilapidated building without even an elevator?" Old Zhou's voice was even lower, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth. "Didn't you see how many groups of people came this morning? Before dawn, cars were already pulling into our compound, each carrying a black briefcase and cash, knocking on every door, asking everyone if they were selling their apartments. Do you think this is normal?"

Old Wang's head felt like it had been hit hard by something, and it was buzzing.

He subconsciously turned his head to look at the courtyard.

Upon closer inspection, he realized something was amiss.

At this time of day, there are usually hardly any people in the residential compound, except for a few old men walking their birds or playing chess.

But today, there were four or five cars with unfamiliar license plates parked in the courtyard, several strangers carrying briefcases were going in and out of the building, and two people were squatting by the flower bed talking quietly to an old lady. The old lady was holding a stack of papers in her hand, which looked like property ownership certificates.

Outside the courtyard, two more cars were turning in.

It was as if this group of people had made a pact; they all came for these dilapidated buildings.

"See?" Old Zhou's voice was low and urgent. "My son called me last night. He works at the county land bureau. Guess what he said? He said—"

Old Zhou suddenly paused here, giving the man with the gold-rimmed glasses a wary look.

The smile on the man with the gold-rimmed glasses had faded. He pushed up his glasses and coldly scrutinized Old Zhou through the lenses.

Old Wang's hand froze in mid-air, the pen hovering above the damaged contract, unable to fall.

He had lived most of his life, witnessed the frenzy of exchanging grain coupons for eggs, the scramble for stock subscription certificates, and the skyrocketing housing prices. He knew all too well that when everyone rushed into a place like madmen to grab something, there must be a huge secret hidden behind it.

And now, this secret is hidden on the land beneath his feet, which he has trodden for decades, hidden in the unspoken second half of Old Zhou's words.

"Old Zhou, what exactly did your son say to you?"

The elderly men and women eating sunflower seeds by the flower bed all perked up their ears, eager to know what was going on. Could it be that their area was going to be demolished? Although building demolitions were relatively rare, it was still possible.

Xu Qiang and Monkey also held their breath. If they knew the inside story, it would be difficult for them to buy this house.

Even the man with the gold-rimmed glasses stopped cigars in mid-air.

Old Zhou looked around, pulled Old Wang a couple of steps to the side, and whispered a few words almost in his ear, in a voice only the two of them could hear.

Old Wang's eyes widened suddenly. He remained silent for a long time before slamming his pen on the hood of the car and turning to leave.

"Not selling anymore!"