"Co on, point him out to . Which bastard stuck that Enchanting Demon Pattern sticker on your belly?"
"I'll shave him bald and stick it on his forehead."
Lying on a chair at the Qing'an Tea Stall, Ansheng stretched lazily with a satisfied look, yawned, smacked his lips, and inquired the Arctic Fox.
"Wah~ wah wah wah!"
The Arctic Fox excitedly bounced around, lifted its snout, and looked over to the entrance of the tea stall, identifying the offender who assaulted it that night.
Ansheng followed the Arctic Fox's direction and saw a group of strangers at the tea table by the tea stall entrance. Among them, a smug-looking man in his forties was sitting with two won, chatting and laughing, talking big.
A car key for a Land Rover lay brazenly on the tea table, obviously flaunting his wealth.
"Is that the old tir who shaved you?" Ansheng, seeing the unfamiliar man and guessing he wasn't local, continued to ask the Arctic Fox.
"Wah!"
The Arctic Fox nodded confidently, pointing its snout towards the man.
That old tir grabbed my tail while the auntie next to him shaved my fur!
"Got it. We'll ambush them once the crowd clears out..."
Ansheng responded without directly confronting the stranger, instead observing the scene at the tea table with a peculiar expression.
The wild old tir was showing off his wealth, boasting and advising the local tir against engaging in the tea business, which was labor-intensive for just a few hundred thousand a year.
As a distributor, not only could he network with well-known plantation owners and get quality goods, but he could also earn price differentials and commissions from plantation owners.
The money rolled in "like a waterfall," and all he had to do was sip tea and brag all day.
The local tir didn't verbally retaliate against the boastful wild one; he rely smiled, patted Chen Peipei's hand, and everything was understood without words.
The wild tir acted as if he didn't notice, crossing his legs and continuing his spiel.
"It seems..."
"It's not just as the Arctic Fox said; it's not rely business defamation or scheming but possibly involves romantic revenge too."
Ansheng watched with a strange look, clearly noticing Yu Zhenghong engaging in so silent counterattack.
Though the wild tir's expression remained unchanged, under the table, his jiggly old leg seed ready to fly off.
Irritation and displeasure were evident.
Clearly, the two spirited tirs had past grudges as young tirs, and the Arctic Fox's shaving was collateral damage from their feud.
"The local tir is better; that wild one just spurts nonsense..."
Ansheng withdrew his gaze, casually trotting to the tea table, jumped onto it, raised his paw looking at the tir, and patted the table.
"Pour a cup of tea; just woke up thirsty..." Ansheng looked at the opposite side, faked a sneeze, and sprayed spit over the unfamiliar wild tir and the two won.
"Achoo... Sorry! You just blew so hard bragging that you kicked up dust, and my nose has been a bit sensitive lately."
The wild tir's ill-intentions were blatant; his talk of being a tea distributor was basically about being a minor tea trader, sourcing locally to supply tea houses or stores elsewhere.
This line of work is indeed highly lucrative, making several million a year easily.
But this has a crucial premise: distributors heavily depend on connections and cash flow.
Otherwise, why would top tea gardens prioritize supplying you?
Either you saved a plantation owner's life, or you paved your way with money, buying a pound of premium tea with dozens of pounds of standard tea over years of dealings and relationship-building, the plantation owner might reserve so top-grade tea for you.
Without connections in the upstream tea industry, being a distributor is purely hard labor. It's hard to acquire cost-effective quality tea, opening sales channels is difficult, household tea faces intense competition, and there's the threat from superior blended tea.
In Ansheng's eyes, small distributors were basically miserable folks getting trampled by tea farrs at the production site and then heavily scavenged by tea houses upon return.
The wild tir opposite was a sheer villain, actually intending to deceive Ah Qing's dad into selling out.
Utterly vile, rot oozing from the soles of his feet and hemorrhoids on his rear.
"Tsk..."
Sitting at the tea table, Chen Bohan, sprayed with the Fuli's spit, pulled a disdainful face, wiped his face, and mockingly told Yu Zhenghong:
"Hey, hey, hey, your fox is on the table. Be careful it doesn't smash your treasured tea set!"
"You know nothing about Fuli."
Yu Zhenghong disdainfully glanced at Chen Bohan and said matter-of-factly: "Master Fuli is here to be sincerely worshiped and honored..."
"Let alone drinking tea on the table, even if it climbs onto the altar, it's reasonable."
"Be careful not to wipe Master Fuli's spit onto my cushions; co wash your hands, don't take away Master Fuli's good fortune."
Though Yu Zhenghong didn't leap up and kick Chen Bohan out of the tea stall, the verbal sparring was intense.
If his hardware (wallet) weren't lacking, he'd have taken off his pants and waved it insolently in his face long ago.
"Tsk, saying these things..." Chen Bohan chuckled, declined the wash basin, and told Chen Peipei: "I won't disturb you anymore; we need to browse other stalls. Old classmate, bring your hubby, let's have a al together then."
"Leaving first, Lao Yu. If you have any good tea, notify ! Hahaha..." Chen Bohan smiled at Yu Zhenghong and said to his wife: "Let's go, honey!"
As Chen Bohan finished, the two won who had been seated beside him acknowledged, smiled at Yu Zhenghong and Chen Peipei, and all left the Qing'an Tea Stall together.
"Let's go! Honey~"
Watching them leave, Yu Zhenghong muttered after Chen Bohan's departing words with a sarcastic tone: "Go, go, I hope you both don't end up ditched tomorrow with both your bank cards and property deeds gone."
"Pfft..."
Chen Peipei chuckled, watching her husband's sarcastic antics, saying: "After all these years, that guy is still as braggy as ever, even managing to marry a few..."
"I told you back then he wasn't any good; now you believe it!"
"Back in junior high, he used to snatch magazines for the adult articles, even sneaking to peep at the class teacher changing clothes. The school's unanimously recognized goddess was the English teacher, yet he preferred watching the wicked chubby one..." Yu Zhenghong huffed as if flaunting to Chen Peipei.
"Yes, yes, your judgnt is the best." Chen Peipei laughed, nudging Yu Zhenghong with her elbow.
"Tsk tsk..."
Ansheng, squatting on the tea table, looked disdainfully at the empty cup and patted the table:
"I'm thirsty! I want tea, not to dine on your dog food!"
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