Facts prove that as long as a person is willing to go all out, there’s nothing they can’t accomplish.
On the first day of moving into No. 29 Guan Yinli, I went to the supermarket and carried back six bottles of beer. Riding high on liquid courage, I took up my pen with a flourish and wrote a job posting.
Now hiring three dessert shop employees, meals and accommodation included.
After finishing, I thought for a moment and added another line.
Requirements: Bold and meticulous, professionally qualified, astrologically fortified, with no worldly attachments.
Signed, Huangliang Yimeng.
That very evening, I posted this job advertisement, even uploading a copy online. After downing four bottles of beer, I finally managed to completely short-circuit my brain and stumbled to collapse on the first-floor sofa. In the end, I still didn’t dare go up to the second-floor bathroom to take a shower.
As for why I was acting so pathetically in my own shop, this all has to start from the collapse of my previous store.
Half a month earlier, because the landlord suddenly raised the rent, I left the cat café I had operated for six months on a bleak and stormy night, taking eight cats with me and ending up homeless on the streets.
That same evening, my plastic sister Bai Liu came to take away all the cats. Before leaving, she handed me a real estate manager’s business card, telling me this person had a very cheap property available. If I still wanted to invest for the eighth time, this house would be my perfect choice.
Obviously, unlike me—this jinxed younger brother who bankrupts whatever he opens—my actual sister Bai Liu was the legitimate Dong Mingzhu of Yu Jiang. Young and wealthy enough to buy four of me, her investment advice was valuable enough to rival Warren Buffett’s breakfast if sold. So the next day, I arranged to meet Manager Hu from the business card to view the property.
At that time, I never could have imagined that this very cheap property would actually be located in Guan Yinli.
For all Yu Jiang natives, Guan Yinli was a landmark with mixed reputation. The food street facing Yujiang Dadao specifically targeted out-of-town visitors. Though notorious, its fame was simply too great, and being by the river, people who finished riding the ferry and cable car inevitably had to make a trip there. Coming and going, the property prices in this area inevitably became something I couldn’t afford.
For our first viewing, Manager Hu was nearly half an hour late. I ate a bowl of what was supposedly century-old cold shrimp jelly on the food street, managing only a third before I couldn’t continue. I couldn’t help but marvel that even something with clumped brown sugar and sandy cold shrimp powder could sell for thirty-one yuan per bowl. Truly worthy of being Yu Jiang’s top internet celebrity district—with proper marketing, even chili oil mixed with leather shoes could become a heritage internet celebrity shop.
After waiting a long time, Manager Hu finally arrived fashionably late. At first, I thought it was because this property was too popular, but when he led me all the way into the deserted depths of Guan Yinli, my heart couldn’t help but turn cold.
Damn it, even shady establishments wouldn’t dare open in such a remote location—they need customers to fleece! This ghostly place didn’t just lack people; even the trash cans didn’t have a single cigarette butt.
Seeing my expression looked off, Manager Hu smiled at me: “The location is a bit remote, but everyone has GPS navigation now. Good wine needs no bush—young people can find it.”
“Hehe.”
I smiled, thinking this was so deep that even a dog wouldn’t smell anything. The deepest thing was really the schemes of you real estate agents.
After walking nearly fifteen minutes, Manager Hu finally stopped in front of a standalone two-story commercial building at a crossroads. If I had to describe the location, if the food street ahead was like a red dot on the bodhisattva’s forehead, then where I now stood was already like a black mole on the soles of the Buddha’s feet.
It was midsummer, and the cicadas nearby were calling loudly, but aside from that, there were no shouting voices or talking sounds—nothing else. Looking left and right, apart from No. 29, not a single shop around here was open. In the distance, there was still an old sign for “Dongzi Hot Pot” that hadn’t been removed, and from that direction came several clear dog barks.
Manager Hu said: “It’s best not to go over there. Wild dogs from who knows where have built nests, and the security is too lazy to manage them. Now they’ve formed packs and tourists feed them, so they’ve gotten fat and their appetites have become picky.”
If this had been a few years ago during my first startup, having only dogs and no people within a three-hundred-meter radius, I wouldn’t have been able to tolerate such grievances. But as they say, even heroes bow down for a mere pittance of rice. While Manager Hu was opening the door, I calculated the money I had left. After seven disastrous failures, the startup funds my sister had given me were down to a do-or-die number. This was basically my last shot—if I didn’t succeed this time, I’d have to say goodbye to my dessert business career.
I couldn’t help but ask: “Manager Hu, I just want to ask—the previous tenant who opened shop here, did they make money?”
Hu Lin struggled with the lock: “No… I mean they didn’t even open before deciding not to rent.”
I was stunned. These days, houses require three months’ rent plus one month’s deposit—what kind of great philanthropist was this, saying they didn’t want money just like that? Just as I was about to ask more, I heard a clattering sound as the No. 29 rolling shutter door opened in front of me. Although there was still a glass door inside, I could already see clearly into the interior.
Compared to my previous storefront, No. 29’s decoration was rather old-fashioned. In the dim room, several gray tables and chairs were arranged neatly, with cash register and various decorative furniture all complete. There were still advertisement posters that hadn’t been torn down on the walls, featuring the head of some long-outdated celebrity with eyes enlarged by colored contacts to an odd degree and a face photoshopped snow-white, grinning and smiling toward the entrance.
It seemed that since the previous landlord left, this place hadn’t changed at all.
Manager Hu accompanied me with a smile as he pushed open the glass door. A gloomy moldy smell hit us head-on. He said: “The previous owner originally wanted to open a noodle shop but didn’t succeed, so they left some kitchen equipment behind. Mr. Bai, you can take a look later—it’s all metal and should still be usable.”
“There’s kitchen equipment too?”
I was dumbfounded. Given the price he quoted, I thought the so-called decoration would be like the mung bean soup from college days—one pot of water with two mung beans calling itself soup. Similarly, a few plastic stools in an empty shell would count as soft furnishing. But looking at this, not only was there soft furnishing, there were accessories too—what bodhisattva had descended to earth to do real estate?
Hu Lin said: “Mr. Bai, I didn’t get a chance to tell you the specific situation earlier… No. 29 comes fully furnished, but it wasn’t decorated by the most recent tenant. Truth be told, it should be the first tenant who did the renovation, about seven or eight years ago. Since then, the decoration of this place has never changed, and all the furniture is still here. Basically, if you rent it, you can move in with just your luggage.”
Move in with just your luggage!
For a moment, my brain contained only these four golden, dazzling, awesome words.
I didn’t understand—I could even say I was greatly shocked.
Having been a sucker for so long, what kind of human suffering had I experienced? Cheated on renovation with paper-thin walls, forced to wander the streets with cats due to sudden rent increases, customers ordering brownies then reporting chocolate allergies… In short, I’d been scammed too many times. So when such good fortune as renting a 150-square-meter house for 7,500 yuan was placed before me, I never imagined it could also come with a complete set of soft furnishing and furniture!
This wasn’t just a pie falling from heaven—it was an entire Manchu-Han Imperial Feast dropping down! 7,500! Guan Yinli! Even if there were only dogs within three hundred meters! Bai Yang! What more could you want!
My heart surged with excitement. I spent several minutes walking through the first floor. Just as Manager Hu had said, everything here was complete. There was even a fully reclining chair hidden very discreetly behind the cash register. I reached out to touch it—there was no dust on the chair, only a few strands of hair.
Manager Hu also noticed the reclining chair at this point. His face stiffened for a moment, then he smiled awkwardly: “This house has been empty too long, and with all the stuff still here, inevitably agents come to rest… Once Mr. Bai moves in, of course the locks will be changed.”
I didn’t respond, or rather I didn’t dare speak casually now, lest Manager Hu discover my inner calculations and raise the price on the spot. I walked around to the back of the kitchen and quickly found the staircase—narrow and steep, unable to accommodate two people walking side by side. It cut into the first-floor ceiling like a knife blade, ending at a door with white frames and frosted glass that revealed a pitch-black background.
I asked Manager Hu: “Is upstairs the private rooms?”
For some reason, Manager Hu’s expression suddenly became somewhat gloomy at this moment. He hesitated: “Upstairs can accommodate people. Including the first floor, it’s four bedrooms, one living room, two bathrooms, and one kitchen.”
Hearing this, I immediately climbed the stairs without another word. After all, normally, 7,500 yuan probably couldn’t even rent one room in Guan Yinli. I climbed up in a few steps, and immediately the light dimmed, and even the temperature seemed to drop by two degrees. The atmosphere on the second floor was completely different from the first floor.
It was indeed an old house. No. 29’s layout wasn’t as clever as modern villas, nor could it be called particularly aesthetic. The second floor was a straight-through corridor with cracked and graying wall paint, scattered with four bedrooms, with the bathroom at the far end. I tried to open one of the bedrooms, but the door seemed to be locked. I twisted the handle twice without success.
Just looking with my eyes, I could tell that the area here was almost twice the size of the cat café. Not only that, I could live directly in the shop without needing to waste money renting a place elsewhere, saving a substantial sum for buying cream and butter and other raw materials.
Thinking of this, I almost wished I could immediately press him to sign the contract. Discovering that the door wouldn’t open, I only thought it was a small trick by the real estate agent. Hearing Manager Hu climbing up behind me, I couldn’t wait to say: “Manager Hu, do you have the keys to the second-floor rooms? Could I take a look at the room layouts?”
That’s why they say poverty shortens one’s aspirations. Being a sucker to my degree, finding a great bargain made me want to immediately clutch it tightly in my hands, afraid someone else would snatch it away.
I couldn’t hide my excitement. According to normal procedures, seeing me in this state, Manager Hu should already be popping champagne in his heart. Who would have expected that when I turned around, Manager Hu was standing in a patch of shadow, and the expression on his face inexplicably gave me a very bad premonition.
He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t even looking at me. Both eyes were staring fixedly behind me, as if someone was standing there.
Thanks to my sister dragging me to watch those horror movies when I was little, I was unusually timid. Seeing him like this, goosebumps immediately rose on my back. I jerked my head around to look back—the bathroom mirror was facing our direction, flickering with faint light in the dimness, reflecting Manager Hu’s pale face.
How could there be a real estate manager who looked gloomy when a house was about to sell?
My heart trembled for no reason. I didn’t dare stare at the bathroom anymore, didn’t even dare let my back face that direction. I turned sideways, letting my back rest against the wall. A chill immediately penetrated through my thin T-shirt into my spine. I suddenly realized that No. 29 hadn’t even paid the electricity bill, but the temperature on the second floor was like air conditioning was running. Was this reasonable?
Looking at Manager Hu’s hesitant expression, just as a guess was vaguely forming in my mind, Manager Hu spoke: “Mr. Bai, I do have the keys to the second-floor rooms, but before opening the doors, there’s one more thing about No. 29 that I need to tell you… After all, letting buyers know about certain objective conditions of the property is also one of our real estate agents’ obligations.”
Manager Hu stepped forward two paces. I noticed his expression became even more unnatural, looking at me one moment and then at the mirror behind me the next, as if restless, very strange indeed.
After a pause, Manager Hu seemed to have mentally prepared himself. He spoke softly: “Mr. Bai, about the previous landlord you just asked about—she actually didn’t decide not to rent, it’s just that… three months ago, she slit her wrists and committed suicide in that bathroom behind you.”