Tang Huai had just gotten home when Mr. Chen, the landlord, arrived at her doorstep on his bicycle.
"Young lady, you don't need to look elsewhere or think it over anymore. I'm short on cash, so let it be two hundred and sixty!" Mr. Chen said, leaning on his bike outside the door, addressing Tang Huai who was preparing to do laundry in the yard.
On hearing this, Tang Huai was taken aback. Two hundred and sixty?
She had said two hundred and eighty. Had the landlord remembered wrongly, or heard her incorrectly?
Tang Huai approached with a smile and said to the landlord, "Mr. Chen, I said two hundred and eighty."
Tang Huai had asked Gu Jiajia about it; her third aunt's restaurant had to pay a rent of two hundred every month, and it wasn't even as large as this shop.
For Tang Huai to be able to rent the two-story building for two hundred and eighty was a real bargain.
