Chapter 3

The joy had not yet passed when Manager Yang suddenly remembered what the young master had said about selling the land, and the smile on his face immediately froze.

Just then, someone howled and rushed towards Fang Jifan, hugging his legs and wailing, "Young Master, Young Master, you can't sell the land! Young Master, selling your father's land... this will bring down the wrath of heaven! If it's sold, the whole capital will mock us and point fingers at the Fang family. If the old lord finds out... sniff, sniff..."

It turned out to be Deng Jian, who was in tears, only hugging Fang Jifan's legs and sobbing uncontrollably.

Manager Yang's face also turned grim. Sell... sell the land... Just a moment ago, he had thought that apart from their young master, who else would even consider such a disgraceful act, and he had felt quite happy, thinking that the young master's illness was finally over.

But now, he realized it was really going to happen.

Manager Yang fell to his knees with a thud, saying, "Young Master, Deng Jian is right, we can't sell the land. If we do, the Nanhe Marquis Manor will become a laughingstock. If the young master is short of money, just tell me. Old Liu, Old Liu, how much silver is left in the accounts..."

Liu, the accountant, had red eyes, clutching his chest, feeling a severe pain, and sobbing, "Young Master, my family has served the late great-grandfather, the late grandfather, and the young master for generations. The Nanhe Marquis Manor is at least one of the most prominent families in the capital. We can't sell the land, we can't sell it. If we do, the family will be ruined!"

It made a lot of sense. In this era, people often valued land more than anything else. Selling ancestral land was something only wastrels and scoundrels did. Fang Jifan was clearly convinced: "What you say is very true. Selling the land is what a wastrel does. But go out and ask the neighbors, who is the biggest wastrel in the capital?"

Fang Jifan stood tall, his spirit soaring. At this moment, he felt a bit of pride. Being a wastrel was not bad. For example, selling the land—others dare not, but I dare. How else would money beget more money, and how else would I make a huge profit?

"Why are you crying? If anyone dares to cry, I'll break their legs. If you want to laugh... don't you know the rules of the manor? I am my father's only son. My father is now leading troops for the court to suppress the rebels. This house is under my control. Who dares to oppose me?"

Seeing Fang Jifan's fierce expression, Deng Jian, Manager Yang, and Liu the accountant all drew in a cold breath.

They knew the young master's temper. In the past, when the young master was angry, he could kill people. So they dared not sob loudly, only whimpering softly.

"I said to sell, and I will sell. From now on, everything that can be sold will be sold. Call the brokers, negotiate, and get guarantors. Go now!"

At this moment, he could not lose his momentum. If he showed any weakness, he would not be able to control them.

Liu the accountant, sobbing, said, "Young Master, can we at least inform the... the..."

"No need. The... the..." Fang Jifan had intended to say "father," but he suddenly realized it was wrong and almost exposed himself. He bared his teeth, showing a bold expression: "Why bother with that old man? I said to sell, and it will be sold!"

The young master's outburst in the manor made the entire Fang family tremble with fear. The loyal servant Deng Jian had fainted, and Liu the accountant, due to a heart attack, was carried away for medical treatment.

The next morning, it was already late. Fang Jifan, dressed by Xiao Xiang, saw that Deng Jian's eyes were swollen like a light bulb, indicating that he had cried again last night. Fang Jifan ignored him, thinking that the doctor might come to treat him and he didn't want to be needled again. He looked at Xiao Xiang slyly, saying, "Xiao Xiang, you've grown so much in just one day. Come, Young Master..."

Xiao Xiang, with red eyes, did not move. Fang Jifan pointed at her to move away, but she stood like a wooden stake, making him groan inwardly, "Why don't you move?"

Reluctantly, he extended his lecherous hand and pinched Xiao Xiang. The softness made Fang Jifan feel both ashamed and speechless, but... it was really that big. He was amazed, thinking, "The Fang family's rice really nourishes people!"

Xiao Xiang, still with red eyes, put a sachet on Fang Jifan. When she lifted her pretty face, her eyes were filled with tears. Fang Jifan felt a bit guilty and cursed the former Fang Jifan for being a scoundrel. Deng Jian said from the side, "Y... Young Master... the brokers have arrived."

"Good, they're here." Fang Jifan was relieved from the awkward situation, took the rosewood fan from his waist, and fanned himself grandly: "Let's go and meet them."

Leading Deng Jian to the hall, he saw a plump merchant waiting nervously. This man seemed to shrink when he entered the Fang family, looking somewhat uneasy. Upon seeing Fang Jifan, he hurriedly stood up and bowed: "I am Wang Jinyuan, greeting the young master."

Fang Jifan sat down grandly, crossed his legs, and slammed the fan on the table: "No need for formalities. You know about the land, right? Do you want to see it?"

"Da... dare not." Wang Jinyuan smiled cautiously, trying to appear harmless. This young master was known for being a wastrel. If he said something wrong, who knew if he could leave today. He smiled and said, "The Fang family's estates, how could I not know? They are all prime farmland. At market price, one acre is at least thirty taels, and with over two thousand acres, it would be no problem to get sixty to seventy thousand taels. Moreover, this year is a good year, with fewer sellers and more buyers. If the young master is truly willing to sell, I will do my best to ensure you don't lose out."

Only sixty to seventy thousand...

Fang Jifan felt a bit disappointed.

But upon careful thought, one tael of silver was not a small amount, equivalent to about two hundred yuan in the modern era. Sixty to seventy thousand taels would be equivalent to several million yuan.

But Fang Jifan was still not satisfied: "Just that much?"

Wang Jinyuan, though smiling, inwardly despised Fang Jifan. Everyone in the capital knew that the Nanhe Marquis lineage was made up of men of iron, who had done countless deeds for the court. How could such a person appear in this generation? If this were my son, I would rather have no descendants than strangle him.

After a moment of reflection, Wang Jinyuan laughed dryly: "Young Master, this price is already quite high."

Fang Jifan had no choice but to agree. After all, he was a wastrel and could not show his business acumen in front of others. He waved his hand: "Alright, let's settle it. Little Deng, serve tea to this... this... this whoever. Ha ha, I love making friends. Come, come, please sit, please sit."

Wang Jinyuan was extremely embarrassed but dared not refuse, obediently bowing and sitting down. When Deng Jian went to serve the tea, and seeing Fang Jifan silent, playing with the rosewood fan, he felt uncomfortable wherever he looked. His eyes flicked to a painting on the wall, and he could not help but say, "The Nanhe Marquis Manor is indeed different. If an ordinary family got this Zhao Yuan's 'Qingchuan Songke Tu,' they would keep it as a treasure. I didn't expect the manor to hang it in the hall, truly broadening my horizons."

Hmm?

Wang Jinyuan had only intended to flatter, as a businessman must be sweet-tongued, especially when dealing with such a troublemaker. But Fang Jifan narrowed his eyes, suddenly sensing a business opportunity: "What price?"

"What price?" Wang Jinyuan was stunned.

Fang Jifan stared at him intently: "Of course, the painting. How much can it sell for?"

"Perhaps a few hundred taels. Although it is a famous work by Zhao Yuan, he passed away not long ago, so it is not as valuable as the works of ancient sages."

Fang Jifan's spirit was invigorated, and he slapped the table: "Sell it."

"Th... this... also sell..." Wang Jinyuan was shocked, looking at Fang Jifan in surprise.

...

I forgot to ask for support.

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