"Old Du ran off?" Yang Fan asked in surprise.
Old Zhou, looking self-assured, sat down on the pink sofa, "His business went under, what else could he do but run away? In this market, it's the norm. Take your elder brother here, standing firm for over a decade, I'm telling you, that's really rare."
Yang Fan fell silent.
Just last month, he had sold some tea to that amiable Boss Du, and now in less than twenty days, the man had gone and the shop was emptied—turned into a den of iniquity with pink lanterns hanging high. The sudden twist of fortune was indeed sigh-worthy.
"What do you want with him? Selling tea?" Old Zhou's somewhat sleazy gaze wandered over the women as he casually asked.
Yang Fan nodded.
The girl who just came out with Old Zhou seemed younger, probably around twenty-five or twenty-six and pretty-faced.
"You have tea and you don't sell it to me, why give outsiders a deal?" Old Zhou said, displeased.
