The villa was no more than 400 square meters, but it had a garden and a pool. Lan Jin also lived in the neighborhood. For Cong Nianwei, who was in need of an independent studio, this was better than a small apartment.
The couple moved to the villa as soon as they could after visiting it. Everything was going well, except for one thing. Qin Guan was annoyed with his work.
He was planning on shifting all his jobs, including his modeling and acting work, back to China. Chinese people focused on qualifications and style though, so he had to take all his awards with him. The three surfboards posed a big problem.
Checking them in as overweight luggage at the airport was not a good idea. The loading men were always casual with luggage, and no insurance company would insure them. It was not a problem that could be settled with money. Qin Guan had to either charter a plane, or trust his awards to an international shipping company.
UPS was good enough in his opinion, but everyone around him criticized him for being careless. Finally, He Ming, who was a resourceful guy, found him a private jet. The owner of the jet claimed to know Qin Guan.
The tycoon agreed to transfer his luggage for free without hesitation. The plane would only make a short stop at the Beijing Airport on its way to UAE. The man would take care of everything else. His only requirement was to meet Qin Guan to discuss a business offer.
Qin Guan was confused by his demand, but Qu hired Han Zhujiu from the Black Star Security Company to make sure he would be safe. Qin Guan wanted to show more dignity before the tycoon, but Han could last at least 10 minutes in an emergency.
The ignorant men went to the tycoon's luxurious mansion in New York, which also happened to be in Long Island. His private land was about 32,000 square meters, so it was 100 times bigger than Qin Guan's villa.
Qin Guan's team got on a sightseeing car at the entrance of the land. As they moved forward along the marble-paved road, Qin Guan thought that his own real estate was like a shabby shelter in comparison.
More than 10 minutes later, the white fold-top car pulled up to the entrance of the house, which looked like a European castle. Its dome seemed West Asian, and its lofty towers made it look majestic. There were two Roman girls standing on both sides of the gate, holding water bottles in their arms. The girls added elegance to the golden gate, which revealed that the owner of the house had gotten rich recently.
A kind, professional steward opened the gate for them. Qu Xuemei, who was a sharp-eyed woman, could tell that he had graduated from a British school. When they entered the hall, they faced a different world.
They noticed Chinese patterns on the center of the floor as the steward led them inside, and Chinese art greeted them from all directions.
Qin Guan also saw lots of decorations from his own gallery. It seemed that the mysterious Arabian was a collector of Chinese artwork.
Finally, they reached their destination. Qin Guan was allowed into the meeting room, but Qu Xuemei and Han Zhujiu were stopped politely by two security guards wearing headscarves. Qin Guan stood alone in the vast room, facing the tycoon.
The millionaire was a young bearded man wearing a robe and a white turban. The beard made him look scruffy, but his white clothes saved him. He adjusted his white turban slowly as he pointed to the couch. "Your name precedes you, Mr. Qin. Please take a seat."
His childlike voice and serious tone were a funny match. He sounded like Lin Zhiling [1] reading Chairman Mao's articles.
Qin Guan tried his best to suppress his laughter as he sat down elegantly on the couch. The Arabian smiled faintly. It seemed that Qin Guan's presence there made him happy.
The enigmatic man began a boasting self-introduction.
"You might feel strange. You don't know me after all, but I know you. We had some pleasant contact in Las Vegas. Of course, I was in my office, and you were just a visitor in my casino."
Qin Guan remembered that interesting incident. Are you kidding? Are you after me for such a small amount of money? You are an Arabian tycoon, bro! Okay, I'll pay you back. You are even stingier than me!
Qin Guan's eyes betrayed his thoughts. The young tycoon understood at once.
The villa was no more than 400 square meters, but it had a garden and a pool. Lan Jin also lived in the neighborhood. For Cong Nianwei, who was in need of an independent studio, this was better than a small apartment.
The couple moved to the villa as soon as they could after visiting it. Everything was going well, except for one thing. Qin Guan was annoyed with his work.
He was planning on shifting all his jobs, including his modeling and acting work, back to China. Chinese people focused on qualifications and style though, so he had to take all his awards with him. The three surfboards posed a big problem.
Checking them in as overweight luggage at the airport was not a good idea. The loading men were always casual with luggage, and no insurance company would insure them. It was not a problem that could be settled with money. Qin Guan had to either charter a plane, or trust his awards to an international shipping company.
UPS was good enough in his opinion, but everyone around him criticized him for being careless. Finally, He Ming, who was a resourceful guy, found him a private jet. The owner of the jet claimed to know Qin Guan.
The tycoon agreed to transfer his luggage for free without hesitation. The plane would only make a short stop at the Beijing Airport on its way to UAE. The man would take care of everything else. His only requirement was to meet Qin Guan to discuss a business offer.
Qin Guan was confused by his demand, but Qu hired Han Zhujiu from the Black Star Security Company to make sure he would be safe. Qin Guan wanted to show more dignity before the tycoon, but Han could last at least 10 minutes in an emergency.
The ignorant men went to the tycoon's luxurious mansion in New York, which also happened to be in Long Island. His private land was about 32,000 square meters, so it was 100 times bigger than Qin Guan's villa.
Qin Guan's team got on a sightseeing car at the entrance of the land. As they moved forward along the marble-paved road, Qin Guan thought that his own real estate was like a shabby shelter in comparison.
More than 10 minutes later, the white fold-top car pulled up to the entrance of the house, which looked like a European castle. Its dome seemed West Asian, and its lofty towers made it look majestic. There were two Roman girls standing on both sides of the gate, holding water bottles in their arms. The girls added elegance to the golden gate, which revealed that the owner of the house had gotten rich recently.
A kind, professional steward opened the gate for them. Qu Xuemei, who was a sharp-eyed woman, could tell that he had graduated from a British school. When they entered the hall, they faced a different world.
They noticed Chinese patterns on the center of the floor as the steward led them inside, and Chinese art greeted them from all directions.
Qin Guan also saw lots of decorations from his own gallery. It seemed that the mysterious Arabian was a collector of Chinese artwork.
Finally, they reached their destination. Qin Guan was allowed into the meeting room, but Qu Xuemei and Han Zhujiu were stopped politely by two security guards wearing headscarves. Qin Guan stood alone in the vast room, facing the tycoon.
The millionaire was a young bearded man wearing a robe and a white turban. The beard made him look scruffy, but his white clothes saved him. He adjusted his white turban slowly as he pointed to the couch. "Your name precedes you, Mr. Qin. Please take a seat."
His childlike voice and serious tone were a funny match. He sounded like Lin Zhiling [1] reading Chairman Mao's articles.
Qin Guan tried his best to suppress his laughter as he sat down elegantly on the couch. The Arabian smiled faintly. It seemed that Qin Guan's presence there made him happy.
The enigmatic man began a boasting self-introduction.
"You might feel strange. You don't know me after all, but I know you. We had some pleasant contact in Las Vegas. Of course, I was in my office, and you were just a visitor in my casino."
Qin Guan remembered that interesting incident. Are you kidding? Are you after me for such a small amount of money? You are an Arabian tycoon, bro! Okay, I'll pay you back. You are even stingier than me!
Qin Guan's eyes betrayed his thoughts. The young tycoon understood at once.
