CHAPTER 122: CHAPTER 16: A FIRST IN ALL OF CREATION (PART 2)

Hang Yishao did have some reactions, even Fei Qing leaned back and said, "Su Ziceng is going to pull another trick, should we tell Chang Chi?"

"No need for that now, let’s sniff around a bit and talk about it once we know the specifics," Hang Yishao said while swirling the coffee in his cup. Something was off today, no matter how much he stirred, the sugar cube just wouldn’t dissolve, sitting in the dark liquid exposing an annoyingly sharp corner.

Compared to the students at Daoquan University who were busy preparing for exams, Kelly Women’s College’s winter break started more than half a month earlier. Su Ziceng had no plans to waste these precious weeks at home. Recently, everything seemed calm with Chang’s mother and daughter, but the calmer it got, the more uneasy she felt. Especially Chang Mei, who felt ominously omnipresent, ready to bite at any moment.

"I’ve already told you, the boss isn’t here, how much more do you people want before you’ll stop?" Zhou Dagen’s voice could be heard from a mile away.

The usually deserted Wine Shop, not yet officially open for business, had unexpectedly attracted a crowd of "customers," most of whom inside were holding receipts and IOUs, while those outside came to watch the spectacle.

"I’m from ’Lailai Furniture,’ you haven’t paid for a few wine cabinets you bought in the first half of the year," one person said.

"And we’re ’Jiehang Freight,’ it’s time to settle the whole year’s shipping fees," added another.

"You have the nerve to come asking for half-year and one-year debts? Our money has been owed for three years," someone else complained.

Listening to the escalating demands around her, Su Ziceng broke into a cold sweat. She had roughly inquired before; the unscrupulous boss said his debts were about 1.5 million or so, but it wasn’t clear whether that was this year’s or last year’s debts, or perhaps from three years ago. Just the interest from three years ago would amount to a significant sum.

Being chased for debt was a first experience for Su Ziceng. Just as she was about to sneak away, she remembered that she had been through death once, and so she shouldn’t be concerned with these "silver bullet offenses" of rotten old debts. She needed to act like the boss. Taking a deep breath, she put on a confident face and declared with full conviction, "I am the boss."

No sooner had the word "boss" left her mouth than spittle from those around her flew onto her face.

"Ah, you look clever, but why are you so foolish," Zhou Dagen caught sight of Su Ziceng, who appeared out of nowhere, and got the fright of his life. A group of employees from the Wine Shop bravely advanced and managed to drag Su Ziceng out of the crowd.

"What are you messing around for," after rescuing Su Ziceng, Zhou Dagen shoved her into the shop and ordered the shutter door to be pulled down. It finally got quieter inside, only the flimsy iron shutter door was clattering from being pounded, nearly deforming, "We don’t have any cash on hand, and with that outcry of yours, aren’t you just begging to be drowned by their spit."

"It’s not as serious as you say. We can still borrow money from Shang Yin and Sister Mu; have you forgotten? Shang Yin is the guy with the black sunglasses I introduced you to the other day. He’s really rich, owns a limited-edition sports car. Let’s pay off the debts first. To have a good future, we need to maintain a good relationship with our business partners," Su Ziceng chided, glancing at Zhou Dagen, who she reminded had been a wine factory manager for over a decade, surprised that he didn’t understand such simple reasoning.

"Are you sure Shang Yin and that weird woman from ’Admiration’ can actually shell out cash?" Zhou Dagen finally understood why Su Ziceng was so at ease; he began to regret, blaming alcohol for making him trust a woman with a ’Diamond Brain’.

"They agreed to sponsor," said the ’Diamond Brain’ as she walked around the shop, admiringly clicking her tongue, "Shang Yin was so eloquent, and look how quickly he’s had these wines delivered." Beside her, several large wooden crates were filled with valuable wines that had just arrived.

"Not just these, there’s a lot more stored in the cellar behind," Zhou Dagen said, holding his forehead, realizing that Su Ziceng still didn’t grasp the situation.

"Why are there so many? That must have cost a lot of money, right?" Su Ziceng found it strange, her hands still fiddling with the new decorations in the shop.

"Aside from these treasures at the entrance, there are wines worth one million in the collection, sponsored by Shang Yin, and the tablecloth in your hand, the uniforms the employees are wearing, the curtains for the doors and windows—all valued at five hundred thousand, sponsored by ’Admiration,’" Zhou Dagen, brain not rusted by years of alcohol, did the mental math crisply and clearly.

"Five hundred thousand for clothes and fabric?" Su Ziceng began to catch on, looking at Zhou Dagen wearing a grape-wine-red, neatly fitted outfit that imitated Sun Yat-sen’s style, while the female staff’s wine-red cheongsams with slits were top-notch in both style and material, elevating the Wine Shop’s class significantly, "Sister Mu didn’t skimp at all, all the materials are top quality. That five hundred thousand is well spent."

"That’s not the point," Zhou Dagen pulled open the cash register drawer, "The point is, we have no cash, boss."

The polished, gleaming wooden drawer only contained a few coins that clinked, echoing "ding ding dong" when Zhou Dagen’s dramatic gestures shook them, echoing as though announcing a penniless beggar proudly showing off his pristine new porcelain bowl.

"They’re fobbing me off with this junk," Su Ziceng’s ’Diamond Brain’ finally shone through, her eyes filled with indignation as she looked at the items she had just declared to be of excellent craftsmanship and appeal.

Outside the shutter door, the clamor continued unabated, and for the first time in her life, Su Ziceng felt the harsh winter cold. The otherwise promising Wine Shop gave her a chilling feeling of being in a cold storage cellar.

Without money, everything was just empty talk. She had to scrape together some funds by hook or by crook, or by taking the high road. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, we welcome you to give us your recommendation vote and monthly ticket at Qidian (qidian.com). Your support is my greatest motivation.)