Chapter 21: Are You Running a Wholesale Business?

"Sir, what do you think of this house? A Western-style villa, nine-tenths new, two stories, with a courtyard, and from the back room you can see Beishan Mountain; there's a rooftop platform where you can grow flowers and herbs, soak up the sun—location's quiet, perfectly meets your standards, water and electricity are already installed, furniture's all complete. For such a fine house, only three hundred cash a month! We'll handle the water and electricity for you. If you pay fifty more cash per month, I can arrange a maid for cleaning and cooking—she's worked for wealthy households before…"

Listening to the estate agent's rambling, Feng Xue carefully examined this "luxury residence."

Though the agent clearly didn't treat it as a luxury property, for Feng Xue, who came from a modern world where every inch of land was priceless, this two- to three-hundred-square-meter villa with a courtyard was undeniably a luxury home.

Yet such a low price of three hundred cash made Feng Xue uneasy; though satisfied, he still asked:

"With a house this good, why did the original owner move out?"

"Ah, you don't know—the former owner was quite a figure, but his wastrel son loved gambling and got swindled in Gangdu, accumulating massive gambling debts. His father, a sensible man, realized someone had targeted their business and feared his son would fall into trouble again, so he sold all local assets and returned to his hometown. This newly built house was thus sold cheaply."

"Gangdu is too close to us; outsiders doing business head straight to Gangdu. The wealthy here all have ancestral homes, and the poor can't afford rent—so this house's stuck with our agency. If you're interested, I'll hand you both the deed and land title for thirty guan—you walk away with it! If you find water and electricity troublesome, we can handle it for you too. First three years? Consider it a gift. After that, just settle annually!"

Feng Xue was tempted—after all, this sum meant nothing to him—but he'd only just crossed over three days ago and hadn't even learned the county's layout. Settling so quickly might invite trouble. After thinking it over, he said:

"Buying isn't urgent—I'll rent for a few months first. Do you have the deed?"

"I've got it, I've got it!" Though he hadn't sold the house, any income was better than none. The agent quickly pulled out a tightly rolled deed from his small cloth bag, unrolled it, and added, "This house has a minimum three-month lease, five months' deposit, one month's rent paid upfront. Not that I distrust you—it's just the furniture and fittings aren't cheap. The courtyard plants have gone wild, though—if you dislike them, you can pull them up and plant something else. Of course, I'll accompany you to inspect everything first; if anything's wrong, we'll catch it early. Also, though this is Chengnan, it's a bit remote. You'd better keep a dog or hire two guards. Sure, Ping'an County's folk are simple and honest, but there's always a few thieves and scoundrels."

"This residence requires a minimum three-month lease, with a deposit of five and one month's rent paid up front. It's not that I don't trust you—it's just that the furniture and furnishings in this house aren't cheap either. The flowers and plants in the front and back courtyards have already grown wild, though; if you don't like them, you can dig them up and plant something else. Of course, I'll accompany you for an inspection first, so that if anything's amiss, we can catch it early. Also, although this is still Chengnan, it's somewhat out of the way. You'd do well to keep a dog or hire two house guards. Although the folkways of our Ping'an County are honest and simple, you never know when a few rotten thieves and scoundrels might show up."

The agent, eager to earn more, happily agreed. Before leaving, Feng Xue suddenly called him back:

"By the way, I heard you have a shamaness here called Jiugu?"

The agent didn't seem surprised. He nodded. "Jiugu lives beside the rice shop in Chengxi. Coincidentally, I'm heading there to buy household goods—I'll go with you. But if you need anything like this again, you must ask the shopkeeper at the rice shop. That's the rule."

Feng Xue nodded in agreement. Without further words, they set off toward Chengxi.

"Ninth Aunt lives next to the rice shop in the west of the city. Since I happen to need to go that way to help you set up your household goods, I'll go with you. However, if you need anything like this in the future, you'll have to go to the rice shop and ask the shopkeeper—that's also a rule."

Under the agent's guidance, Feng Xue detoured from the main road and soon spotted a small courtyard. Compared to the villa, this looked more like a shrine. Outside the gate, the scent of incense and candles was already strong.

Peering inside, rows of eternal lamps and candles flickered, yet no deity statues were visible. Instead, numerous unnamed spirit tablets and bizarre wooden carvings were neatly arranged on the altar. Though daylight flooded the place and lamps blazed brightly, it radiated a uniquely Chinese horror-like eeriness.

Though he'd already obtained a Cultivation Technique, Feng Xue hadn't abandoned this last option. But as he tried to locate the "Jiugu," a voice suddenly rang out:

Looking inward through the doorway, one saw long-burning lamps and candles flickering ceaselessly, yet not a single deity statue was to be seen. Instead, quite a few nameless spirit tablets and oddly shaped wooden carvings were arranged in an orderly fashion on the offering table. Though it was broad daylight and brightly lit, the place gave off the uniquely eerie, Chinese-style horror atmosphere.

"!" Feng Xue jolted. He turned—and saw a woman approaching, carrying a massive wine jar. She looked about thirty, neither young nor old. Not beautiful, but strikingly pleasant to look at. Of course, as he observed her, he naturally checked her lifespan.

Hmm. 22,791. A long life.

"What are you staring at? Can't you understand 'come in'? Don't you know you're blocking the yin path?"

As she spoke, she stepped forward, shoving Feng Xue inside. Without another word, she walked to the altar piled with strange objects, poured the liquid from the jar into the lamp bowls.

Only then did Feng Xue realize: the jar didn't contain wine—it was lamp oil.

As the woman spoke, she deliberately took a step forward, shoving Feng Xue inside the door. Then, without a word, she picked up the wine jar, walked over to the offering table laden with all manner of strange curios, and poured the liquid from the jar into the lamp cups.

The woman frowned at Feng Xue. He realized his behavior was odd and quickly said:

"Miss… uh, Miss Jiugu, I'm here to find Jiugu…"

The woman burst into laughter, plopped down grandly in front of the central table, and said: "Young man, you talk sweet. I'm Jiugu. Say what you need—I'll give you a twenty percent discount!"

"?" Feng Xue was startled. Though the woman wasn't pretty, she hardly matched his mental image of a shamaness. But since she'd claimed it, he sat down.

"I'm a self-taught xuan cultivator. No master, just know some Foundation Skills. So I wanted to ask…"

Feng Xue was still speaking slowly, observing her expression—but Jiugu waved her hand dismissively.

"Learning magic, huh? Fine. But you're too old, male, and carry another school's techniques. Forget about guardian spells. Other minor spells? I'll sell them to you. I promised you twenty percent off—one spell, eight hundred cash. Guaranteed authentic, not guaranteed you'll learn. Buy it?"

"Buy!" Feng Xue didn't hesitate. Jiugu, equally blunt, reached under the table like a beggar from Kung Fu Hustle, pulled out a dozen colorful, garish manuals, and tossed them on the table casually: "Pick one. Guaranteed authentic!"

"..." Feng Xue's lip twitched as he stared at the pile of manuals. He couldn't resist glancing over his shoulder at the floor beneath the table…

"I'll learn it!" Without the slightest hesitation, Feng Xue replied to Ninth Aunt's blunt directness. Seeing this, Ninth Aunt—quite ridiculously—reached under the table and, just like that old beggar in *Kung Fu*, fished out a dozen or so gaudy, colorful manuals, slapped them onto the table, and said very casually:

One glance nearly gave him cardiac arrest: beneath the table, a black-faced demon—resembling the most filial character from Naruto—was lying there, motionless.

Regarding the imbalance between grain prices and rent: this isn't a bug. I adjusted the prices in this book based on the late Qing and Republican eras, excluding wartime inflation to establish stable values.

As for why a simple sugar-baked bun costs one cash, while a two-story Western-style villa with a courtyard and utilities rents for only three hundred cash monthly—

The issue isn't just cheap housing; it's expensive grain.

Think of it this way: modern grain is cheap due to mechanized farming, high-yield crops, and cheap fertilizer. But historically, grain was always a major expense.

For example, during the best harvests of the Republic era, rice still cost at least one dou (twenty to thirty jin) per silver dollar; in peak years, seven silver dollars per dou was common. Today, even premium-brand rice of thirty jin rarely exceeds one hundred yuan.

Meanwhile, rent for a Beijing sihe courtyard was about twenty silver dollars per month; the most expensive Shanghai apartments—twenty square meters with utilities—cost no more than six silver dollars monthly.

Lu Xun and his brother bought a fully renovated Beijing sihe courtyard for three thousand silver dollars.

So don't blindly follow marketing posts that convert grain prices to calculate income—it's deeply inappropriate.

This small county is like a satellite town near the Magic City—a transportation hub, relatively wealthy, with foreign trading houses and Western-style villas built by rich merchants. But prices won't be high, or people would just live in the Magic City. Grain prices, however, are the opposite: the more prosperous and non-agricultural the region, the higher the cost.

If you must find a conversion ratio, treat one cash as ten yuan.

So don't always look at marketing accounts that benchmark against grain prices and then convert that into income—that's very inappropriate.

The small county town in the book is equivalent to a satellite county town near the Magic City, and counts as something of a transportation hub, so it's quite wealthy. There are foreign trading firms and Western-style buildings, and some wealthy merchants have built their own Western-style houses, but the prices won't be too high—otherwise one might as well live in the Magic City. Grain prices, however, are the exact opposite: the more prosperous a region that doesn't produce grain, the more expensive they are.

If you absolutely must find a conversion logic, just treat one wen as ten yuan and you'll be about right.

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(End of this chapter)