Hearing Wang Hao's words, Zhu Xiaoqiang appeared somewhat excited.
He had mentally prepared to accept two thousand yuan, and even fifteen hundred would have been fine, but he hadn't expected Wang Hao to be so generous, offering a base salary of three thousand plus a commission, and even a thousand yuan for meal allowances, which amounted to a monthly salary of four thousand yuan. Moreover, he could also stay for free. This was the kind of treatment a regular white-collar worker would have!
He also had some understanding of the antiques business.
"Not opening for three years, but once you do, you feast for three years." Most of the time would be spent idling in the shop, which was perfect for him to continue writing his novel.
Seeing his childhood friend standing there like an idiot, silent, Qin Fei quickly elbowed him and said, "Xiaoqiang, have you lost your mind? Hurry up and thank Brother Hao!"
