Chapter 13: Sell Out Completely

“Chen Yansen, are you sure it’s here?”

Wang Zihao stood on the open ground in front of the Police Inspector’s office, his face tense, hands nervously fidgeting in his pant pockets.

Every curious glance from passersby burned like fire, making him utterly uncomfortable.

“Stop wasting time and get to work!”

Chen Yansen knew that, given Wang Zihao’s current life experience and psychological resilience, he could never be as unbothered as himself.

He had no time to wait for Wang Zihao to slowly adapt—sometimes, the greater the pressure, the faster one grows, like a spring: the more pressure, the higher the rebound.

“O-OK.”

Wang Zihao gritted his teeth, resigned, and pulled out a set of folding tables and chairs from the trunk, helping Chen Yansen assemble them.

Beside them, Huang Boxiang helped unload the goods, while Wang Xueting slowly unfolded a muted-toned square cloth and laid it flat on the table, then neatly arranged the black, white, and silver MP3s and MP4s.

The four of them working busily immediately drew the attention of passersby, who stopped and began speculating wildly.

“These guys have guts!”

“Awesome!”

“Are they playing ‘dark under the lamp’? Really think the most dangerous place is the safest?”

An old man smoking a pipe abandoned the market altogether and plopped down on a stone bench across the street, ready to watch the show.

“Kid, why are you setting up a stall here?”

Among the onlookers, several kind-hearted people stepped forward, unable to suppress their curiosity, and asked Chen Yansen.

“Few people.”

Chen Yansen replied briefly and decisively, then immediately returned to his work.

“This is a Police Inspector’s office—do you think they’ll let you set up a stall?”

“The kid looks decent, but his brain’s faulty.”

“Wait—they’ll be chased off soon, and you might even have to pay a fine!”

Passersby pointed and whispered, faces gleeful with schadenfreude.

Chen Yansen acted as if nothing was amiss, busily pulling out stacks of thick promotional posters, two pull-up banners, and a change box from the supply crate, then retrieving a loudspeaker and casually testing the mic with “Hello, hello, hello,” clearly adjusting the volume.

Ten minutes later, the booth took shape.

A two-meter-wide folding table was piled high with MP3s and MP4s, flanked on either side by pull-up banner stands.

On the left: “Must-Buy at the Market! Mei Mo Clearance Sale!” On the right: “Factory Direct! Free Bluetooth Earphones!”

Centered on the front was a massive printed poster bearing only: “Blue Demon MP3 (free wired earphones) — Frenzy Price: 49 Yuan!” and “Blue Demon MP4 (free Bluetooth earphones) — Frenzy Price: 199 Yuan!”

The font was larger than a washbasin—clearly legible even to the old ladies across the street.

“Mouse, let’s go!”

Chen Yansen raised the loudspeaker, confident.

“N-No problem, I’m ready.”

Wang Zihao took a deep breath, struggling to control his body, but his legs still trembled slightly, his lips turning white from biting.

Wang Xueting, the youngest, smiled brightly, showing not a trace of nervousness.

“No wonder she’s the youngest CEO of Magic Root Asia—Wang Zihao’s brain couldn’t compare.”

Chen Yansen watched it all, silently mocking to himself.

“Come on, folks of Zhongqiaozhen—uncles, aunts, handsome guys, beautiful girls—look over here!”

Chen Yansen grinned and shouted into the loudspeaker.

Passersby instantly turned their heads; young people interested in MP3s and MP4s immediately gathered around.

A dense, swirling crowd—two or three hundred strong—formed.

Seeing this, Wang Zihao’s thighs shook even harder.

“Hello everyone! We’re staff from Yangcheng Mei Mo Electronics Factory—today we’re here in Zhongqiaozhen to bring you a special gift!”

“MP3 music players originally priced at 290, 390, or 490 yuan—today, all at one flat price: 49 yuan for clearance!”

“Data cables, earphones, storage bags—all free!”

“Cabbage price! Cabbage price! MP4s originally 690, 890, or 990 yuan—today just 199! Play music, watch dramas, ultra-long battery life—only 100 units total! First come, first served!”

“Buy an MP4 for your son—learn English listening on the go! Get an MP3 for your daughter—sing while jogging and stay energized! Bring one for your parents—enjoy opera and crosstalk every day!”

Chen Yansen’s mouth opened, and sales lines poured out like a spring—unstoppable.

After all, in his past life, Chen Zong had excelled at training female livestreamers—he knew these sales scripts inside and out.

Huang Boxiang, who had previously doubted his identity, instantly lost all suspicion upon hearing his fluent pitch.

“I remember MP3s in the county store cost two or three hundred?”

“Too cheap—there must be a catch!”

“If they dare sell right outside the Police Inspector’s office, they must have confidence in their product quality!”

“199 isn’t expensive—my daughter’s been begging for one!”

“Who cares! An MP3 is only 49 yuan—just skip a few bowls of beef soup!”

Potential customers, swayed by Chen Yansen’s pitch, began whispering among themselves.

Over the past three to five years, as Mandarin music reached its final peak, MP3s and MP4s had become wildly popular in middle schools—everyone knew their usual prices.

Compared to county digital stores, Chen Yansen’s pricing was undeniably a massive discount.

“This guy’s right! Only the cost of a barbecue—special market price: 49! Miss today, wait a whole year!”

“Try it out on the spot—unsatisfied, don’t pay!”

Chen Yansen added, and especially the line “unsatisfied, don’t pay” shattered all lingering doubts.

“Kid, give me one! I want the white earphones!”

“If I buy two MP4s, can I get an extra Bluetooth earphone?”

“This build is great—better quality than the one I paid over 400 for!”

“Hey hey hey, don’t push! I got it first!”

The crowd packed the booth tightly, ears filled with the constant cry of “Only 100 left!”—they could no longer hold back, waving cash frantically, scrambling to pick their items, terrified of missing out.

“Is this really happening?”

Wang Zihao stared, dumbfounded, disbelief etched on his face—he’d imagined many possibilities, but never this: a frenzy of buyers.

“Learn well—next market day, you’re on your own.”

Chen Yansen chuckled, teasingly.

He also knew this way of making money would vanish once 4G networks spread fully and smartphones and mobile internet became widespread—information gaps would disappear.

“Me? Are you kidding? I can’t do this!”

Wang Zihao pointed at himself, repeatedly confirming in disbelief, shaking his head like a rattle.

“You think you’ll rely on me forever? I’m not your real dad.”

Chen Yansen sneered, leaving Wang Zihao flustered.

“Well… it’s not impossible.”

Wang Zihao scratched his head, grinning foolishly.

“Hey! You two jerks, stop chatting and help out!”

Wang Xueting, busy packing goods, shouted angrily.

“Hehe, coming, coming!”

Wang Zihao lifted his head, hurriedly replied, then slammed a new box onto the table, shouting: “Last 100 units! Hurry up or miss out!”

“Stop! Who told you to set up a stall here?”

Just as they were selling like wildfire, a loud voice roared out, instantly silencing all noise.

A man in uniform pushed through the crowd and strode forward.

(End of chapter)