Chapter Six: Distinguished Clients

Qin Jing replied casually, “Sell? How much do you want?”

Old Song, seeing his attitude, hurriedly stood up, beaming, “Boss, Little Qin has plenty of waste paper here. How much do you need? Why not get out of the car and take a look?”

As he spoke, he nudged Qin Jing, murmuring under his breath, “Hurry up, business is here.”

Wang Kang got out of the car. Old Song had been eyeing the vehicle with envy and longing—it was a Mercedes-Maybach S, an imported car worth about three million, a staggering sum for ordinary people.

“Tsk tsk, the big boss is indeed different. There’s a stunning beauty sitting inside too.”

Old Song whispered beside Qin Jing. Hearing this, Qin Jing finally looked up, but the car door had already closed.

Wang Kang approached them and said directly, “How much waste paper do you have? I’ll take it all.”

“Hehe, that’s easy. Qin Jing’s place has one of the largest supplies of waste paper in the city,” Old Song chimed in, unfazed by Wang Kang’s somewhat aloof manner. Big customers often acted this way, so he immediately played along.

“One hundred thousand pounds, can you take it all?” Qin Jing raised his head carelessly and tossed out a colossal number, his demeanor and tone carrying a hint of provocation: Aren’t you a big shot? You said you’d take it all—well then, can you handle a hundred thousand pounds?

Wang Kang was taken aback—this kid’s words were a bit sharp.

But he didn’t hesitate; he waved his hand grandly. “I’ll take it. All of it.”

“Two yuan per pound, no credit,” Qin Jing added.

Wang Kang’s face twisted with frustration, feeling as if he was the one begging to buy, almost like a supplicant.

No one’s a fool. Wang Kang had already inquired about the market prices for waste paper. His expression darkened.

“Boss, is this how you do business? Your purchasing price is probably just one yuan per pound, but you’re charging me two yuan? That’s outrageous.”

Actually, it’s not one yuan per pound—it’s one yuan per kilogram.

Qin Jing thought to himself, but his face showed not even a hint of a smile. He remained languid. “You drive a Benz—surely you’re not short of money, are you?”

Wang Kang nearly spat blood: Is this resentment toward the rich? Is this how you do business?

With a loud “pop,” the car door swung open, and a slender, beautiful leg extended outward. The next moment, a dazzling figure appeared before Qin Jing.

Ninety-five points.

Qin Jing glanced at her and had to admit she was even more beautiful than Chen Hua. She wore a black Gucci leather jacket, a fiery red ultra-short skirt of the same brand, her sizzling figure on full display.

She strode over and frowned, “Mr. Wang, haven’t you finished buying yet? Didn’t you say there was paper here?”

As she spoke, she looked at Qin Jing.

Had this been earlier, Qin Jing might have felt nervous under such a gaze—after all, any man’s heart would race before a beauty. But now, he felt nothing at all.

Compared to Jessica Dio, the women on Earth were all instantly reduced to nothing.

“Miss Zheng, let’s go somewhere else. The boss here is unscrupulous, and his service is terrible,” Wang Kang muttered to the young lady, head lowered. Old Song was stunned by this: He’d assumed the woman in the car was some kind of mistress, but hadn’t expected her status to be even higher!

Just as Wang Kang finished speaking, Qin Jing’s face blossomed with a bright smile. He walked straight up to the young lady:

“Hello, are you Zheng Qiuying? I just sent you a text message—I have a large quantity of waste paper for sale, and the price is negotiable.”

Damn! Wang Kang was dumbfounded: How did this guy know Zheng Qiuying’s name?

Zheng Qiuying, psychological primary purchasing target: large quantities of waste paper, psychological price: under one million, full payment in a single transaction. Customer rating: Excellent. Contact number: 2g.

In the video information, Zheng Qiuying was also on the phone:

“…I want to make paper figures, not conduct business. Buying so much new paper means undergoing worldly scrutiny, and delivery takes a month. Since that’s the case, why not just acquire some waste paper? Sis, don’t worry about this—I’ve brought Uncle Wang with me. I don’t believe, in a city this big, I can’t find waste paper!”

The video was short, just that sentence, but Qin Jing knew this young lady was definitely extraordinary, and not lacking in funds.

So, before Wang Kang arrived, Qin Jing had already drafted a message to Zheng Qiuying, something like a promotional text—large quantities of waste paper for sale, plus an address.

What surprised Qin Jing was that she was with Wang Kang: Could it be that Wang Kang was procuring waste paper for Zheng Qiuying?

Since they were together, Qin Jing immediately changed his approach, softening his attitude at once. In business, the most important thing is to be shameless—for profit, a little pride is nothing.

“Qiuying, don’t buy here. Let’s look elsewhere. This guy must have some connection with the Phoenix Society; otherwise, how would he know you need waste paper?”

What Qin Jing didn’t expect was that Wang Kang’s attitude suddenly reversed, as if he might refuse to buy altogether.

“Phoenix Society!”

Zheng Qiuying looked at Qin Jing with heightened vigilance and turned to leave.

“I don’t know what you two are talking about. This gentleman, you said you’d take everything, and you sent messages to ensure Zheng Qiuying wouldn’t get any paper. So I boldly addressed this young lady by name, and, unexpectedly, it turned out to be true.”

At that moment, Qin Jing’s words made Zheng Qiuying stop in her tracks, and Wang Kang’s face changed dramatically.

“What!?”

In that instant, Qin Jing felt an overwhelming pressure radiate from Zheng Qiuying. Her beautiful eyes locked onto Wang Kang.

Wang Kang’s legs trembled, almost collapsing. He waved his hands desperately, forcing a smile as he explained, “Qiuying, let me explain—I really didn’t…”

Qin Jing cut in, “Are you saying you didn’t send any messages?”

Wang Kang instinctively retorted, “I never texted in front of you!”

“Oh?” Qin Jing smiled brilliantly.

Wang Kang’s face turned instantly pale.

Zheng Qiuying’s expression darkened. She said in a low voice, “Uncle Wang, return to the car.”

Qin Jing clearly saw that Wang Kang wanted to speak, but no words came out. His muscles were taut, his movements stiff—not like someone walking of his own accord, but more like a puppet. Step by step, he went to the car. The door opened silently, as if someone inside had opened it, but Qin Jing saw that the Mercedes was empty.

With a “pop,” the car door closed, blocking Qin Jing’s view.

“Have you stared enough?”

A voice, full of displeasure and disdain, sounded. Qin Jing snapped back to reality, realizing that Zheng Qiuying stood right before him. Though he’d been watching Wang Kang, to outsiders, it looked as though he’d been fixated on Zheng Qiuying’s voluptuous chest, unblinking…