"Mr. Z! We're both clever people, so there's no need for Eastern-style politeness.
You take from the rich, I take from the poor—is there a problem with that?
Or do you need me to give you a share of the money? No problem, I can give you five percent!
As long as you don't make a big deal out of this, we can embark on even better cooperation," Wilfrey said plainly.
Zhu Wencong found this man quite interesting, clearly a kindred spirit skilled in reaping profits.
Seeing Zhu Wencong not deny, Wilfrey thought to himself that indeed, no one in this world cares about the fate of the poor.
"Mr. Z, I know you don't want to make money from the poor. I've learned a bit about the East and understand there's a saying...
'Great men often cherish their own feathers,' so I'll do the dirty work for you.
We can split the profits fifty-fifty, which I think is a very, very fair deal.
If you have no issue, could you speak to the officials and get my printing shops unsealed?" Wilfrey continued.
