Chapter 4: Bro, What Are You Doing?

Beiyi Alley, a street lined with internet cafes.

Chen Yansen sat at the computer, slid the mouse, typed a string of characters into the input box, and pressed Enter.

“Hey, this page’s UI is so outdated, I almost thought it was a pirated site.”

Chen Yansen stared at the A Li Ba Ba webpage and chuckled as he mocked it.

At the same time, he created a new table file on the desktop and filled in the column names in the first row: Brand/Model/Storage Capacity/Screen Size/Screen Resolution/Battery Capacity/Endurance Time/Supported Formats/Additional Features/Wholesale Price/Minimum Order Quantity, etc.

What came next was much simpler!

He just needed to list the relevant data in order of MP3 and MP4 sales volume, then filter out the best products and suppliers.

Of course, this was only the preliminary selection.

The final decision would require communication and negotiation to secure the most favorable wholesale price and settlement terms before locking in the supplier.

An hour later, only seven candidates remained in the table.

Chen Yansen let out a light sigh, planning to head to the counter for a bottle of water; just as he was about to stand, he noticed Wang Zihao, who had been playing Zombie in Pyramid, staring at him in shock.

The emotion in his eyes was incredibly complex!

“All of you are fucking merchants! This MP4 is identical to the one I bought for 389 yuan—I begged and pleaded and got it down by ten yuan, and now I find out the wholesale price is only 140!”

Wang Zihao pounded his chest, heart aching as if stabbed by a knife.

Who knew how hard he’d worked to save that money!

“That’s the retail price factories use to fool individual buyers; the actual wholesale price is even lower.”

Chen Yansen, drawing on his experience, drove the knife in deeper.

“Holy shit!”

Wang Zihao was completely numb, wanting to go home, grab a kitchen knife, and kill that shady merchant.

Chen Yansen ignored him and walked straight to the fridge beside the counter, grabbing two bottles of chilled spring water.

When he returned after paying, Wang Zihao had calmed down.

“So, you’re planning to resell MP3s and MP4s?”

“Yeah.”

“But all the middle schools—First, Second, and Third—are on break. Who are we selling to?”

“Mr. Ziren said the vast countryside holds great potential. Near Chunshen, there are twenty-two townships. Even if you sell just 100 MP3s and 20 MP4s at each market, calculate how much profit we’d make.”

After speaking, Chen Yansen casually twisted open a bottle of mineral water and drank a third of it in one go.

As August neared, the weather grew hotter, and the damn internet cafe owner, to save on electricity, was sweating even under the air conditioning.

He deserved to go bankrupt later!

“Brother Sen, you just said ‘we,’ so you’re definitely taking me along to make money, right?”

Wang Zihao grinned, his face dripping with flattery.

“Fool! What should you call me?”

Chen Yansen patted Wang Zihao’s shoulder, a sly smile curling at his lips, as if to say, “You should know.”

“My righteous father, from now on, I pledge my loyalty to you!”

Wang Zihao, shamelessly, clasped his fists and bowed deeply, the motion practiced to perfection.

“My son, rise quickly.”

Chen Yansen chuckled and casually lifted his beloved son’s arm.

“But we don’t have any capital!”

Wang Zihao slapped his forehead with a sharp sound, reminding him anxiously.

He’d seen Chen Yansen’s table—the lowest minimum order from any factory was three units; their combined savings weren’t enough to buy even a few, how could they resell?

“I’ll handle the money.”

Chen Yansen was utterly confident.

Before meeting Wang Zihao, he’d checked his bank card balance at an ATM—more than enough to stock up.

“You’re not thinking of stealing money from Uncle Chen, are you?”

Wang Zihao’s eyes darted, instantly understanding the source of his confidence.

“How can you call it stealing between father and son?”

Chen Yansen had no intention of hiding it—he told him plainly.

After all, Wang Zihao wasn’t stupid; once the total quantity of goods was known, the other side could easily calculate the purchase amount.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this deal?”

Wang Zihao asked cautiously.

Though the plan seemed solid, no business was without risk.

If discovered, Chen Yansen would be beaten senseless by his father.

“If I don’t make money, are you going to support me?”

Chen Yansen rolled his eyes, annoyed.

A man can’t go a day without money; without a few million in hand, even eating abalone feels shaky.

“It’s not impossible.”

Wang Zihao grinned, lowering his head in feigned shyness.

“Idiot! Two things: First, bring me two thousand yuan tomorrow—this business includes you as a partner. Second, find me a warehouse. No big demands—twenty square meters is enough.”

Chen Yansen waved his hand, speaking seriously.

“Uh… I only have two hundred yuan on me.”

Wang Zihao patted his pockets, looking helpless.

“Brothers, clear accounts: if you have capital, I’ll treat you as an investor; if you don’t, work with me—I’ll pay you a hundred yuan a day. Choose your path.”

Chen Yansen spoke bluntly, no room for politeness.

They were friends, sure, but he wasn’t Wang Zihao’s father—he offered the opportunity, now it was up to Wang Zihao to seize it.

“Alright, I understand.”

Wang Zihao opened his mouth, face flushed with awkwardness, wanting to say something but holding back, then nodded firmly.

He understood Chen Yansen’s meaning, but couldn’t accept such blunt words.

Chen Yansen smiled, letting it go.

Young people have thin skin; if he could figure it out himself, he’d rise another level in business or social dealings.

“Hello, Manager, I’m from Zhoulai Clothing Factory. We plan to purchase 10,000 MP3s and 3,000 MP4s. Could you provide a special quote?”

Chen Yansen turned his head, typed a line of text, copied and pasted it, then sent it in one go to seven suppliers.

Zhoulai Clothing Factory did exist, but in this era, small-town enterprises below tier three relied entirely on offline orders—they had zero internet awareness, and their listed landline numbers had been dead for centuries.

Verifying suppliers was costly and difficult!

Besides, as long as his money and order were real, who cared about his identity?

Conning sales reps from these factories? Chen Yansen was a pro.

He just needed to set traps in his phrasing to uncover their commission tiers, payment term limits, extra discounts, and whether they’d throw in memory cards or headphones.

Beside him, Wang Zihao watched his friend rapidly switching chat windows, skillfully haggling—he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Your product specifications meet our requirements, but the price is slightly high. If you can reduce it by eight yuan, we’ll prioritize your company and consider increasing order volume.”

“If the MP4 unit price drops to 100 yuan, we can bundle the purchase—total value expected to exceed 600,000 yuan. Would that qualify for a better bundled discount?”

“We prefer cash-on-delivery, no credit terms—faster capital turnover. If the unit price can drop below 105 yuan, we can pay a deposit today to lock the order.”

Wang Zihao thought Chen Yansen was blowing smoke—he felt his face burning, almost embarrassed for him.

“You think they’ll all believe you?”

Chen Yansen glanced at him and smiled.

“Then why say it like that?”

Wang Zihao scratched the back of his head, feeling it itch.

“In business negotiation, what matters most isn’t your strategy—it’s understanding the other side’s needs.”

“When we were in first year of high school, the cheapest MP3 cost over 300 yuan, and MP4s were over 800—prices rivaling a phone. Now?”

Chen Yansen set down the mouse, asking calmly.

“MP3s are around 150 now, and even the cheapest MP4s start above 300.”

Wang Zihao frowned, straining to recall the prices he’d seen while street-hawking.

“What does that show? With mass production and lower raw material costs, prices for MP3s and MP4s will only keep falling. And the electronics factories in Yangcheng and Shencheng, being in first-tier areas, face even more brutal competition and survival pressure.”

“Even a bone with no meat—if it smells even slightly of fat, they’ll rush over.”

Chen Yansen chuckled, utterly confident.

“I’m in!”

After hearing Chen Yansen’s explanation, and hearing those professional terms, Wang Zihao suddenly felt this business had real potential.

“Bro, what are you doing?”

At that moment, a lively figure stepped into their view.

Chen Yansen turned to the sound and saw a girl, thirteen or fourteen, standing behind Wang Zihao.

She stood about 168 cm tall—far taller than her peers—wearing a blue-and-white T-shirt, her fluffy short hair falling to her shoulders, her oval face framed by peach-blossom eyes, pale skin tinged with pink, a faint tear mole beneath her eye, unmistakably distinctive.

Her nose was small and refined, her lips slightly upturned, revealing a row of bright, even teeth, her eyes sparkling with luminous stars.

A teenage version of Wang Zihan!

Chen Yansen instinctively stood up and ran away, terrified that the girl in front of him might pull out a ring and force him to get married and register their union.

“Mouse, meet at the usual place tomorrow.”

Only when he reached the internet cafe’s entrance did he turn and call out.

“Bro, don’t you think Chen Yansen seems weird today?”

Wang Zihao stood frozen, a look of suspicion on his face.

“Him? He’s completely off—I’ll tell you…”

Once Wang Zihao started talking, it was like beans spilling out—he vented about everything except their business dealings.

Upon learning that Chen Yansen and Zhou Keyuan had “broken up,” Wang Zihao’s eyes lit up, and long-buried emotions surged forth.

Watching the retreating figure, Wang Zihao clenched her fist silently, a faint smile spreading across her lips.

(End of Chapter)