It's just that they have money.

On the other end of the phone, Zhang Zhenghao's breathing came through the receiver, uneven, as if he was hesitating about whether he should say the next thing.

"Whether it's a trap or not, we'll see in the end. You should still go and negotiate with the company he recommended, and tell me their quote."

Zhang Zhenghao hummed in agreement on the other end, then the doubt finally escaped his throat: "Aren't you afraid he'll take kickbacks?"

"The fact that he takes kickbacks means there are kickbacks to be made, and that the matter can be accomplished."

The silence lasted for a few seconds.

Zhang Zhenghao's voice rang out again: "Alright, I'll go talk to them."

"I'll pay for it."

After hanging up the phone, Fang Chen put his phone on the coffee table and leaned back on the sofa.

Fang Yuan was watching TV in the living room. The actors on TV were arguing, but Fang Chen didn't hear what they were saying.

Xiang Pingping brought out a plate of sliced ​​watermelon from the kitchen and placed it in front of Fang Chen.

Who is it?

"Zhang Zhenghao".

"Is he still abroad?"

"Um."

Fang Chen didn't go into specifics, because saying too much would only cause his parents more trouble than help.

The next afternoon, Zhang Zhenghao sent a message.

"Here's the quote: $120,000 USD, including full service. You'll get your license within three weeks, or half your money back."

I also mentioned the scope of services, pricing, delivery time, and refund terms.

Finally, he added, "It's fucking shady!"

Fang Chen pondered for a moment and said, "They really do seem like shady middlemen; they make money whether the deal goes through or not."

"I feel like I've been scammed, and that feeling is really upsetting."

"Have the procedures for handling these matters been confirmed?"

"I understand the general situation; it was Mr. Gu who handled it. What happened?"

"You need to confirm one thing: can the official certification process actually be completed? If it can, then things aren't completely bad yet."

Zhang Zhenghao remained silent for a long while, then said in a low voice, "You mean this Mr. Gu might have a problem?"

"We've been handling this through him. He's the one who decides which way the certification doors open and how high the threshold is. If you've already looked into it, then the general direction is fine. It's just that his interest is in getting the channels up and running, not in getting the lowest cost."

Before resigning, Zhang Zhenghao was a tech guy who didn't deal much with shady characters, so Fang Chen can't blame him for being scammed this time.

I definitely didn't think of this floor before I went; it was an oversight.

Previously, Fang Chen worked on consulting projects at the company and came into contact with all sorts of intermediaries.

Some people are indeed capable, some people just know people who are capable, and some people are nothing at all.

The difference isn't how much money was collected, but whether or not the matter was successfully resolved.

Fang Chen hung up the phone, sat back down at his desk, turned on his computer, and typed a line in the search bar.

"Certified Chinese Healthcare Supplier in the United States"

After thinking about it, he deleted the word "Chinese".

The search results popped up in a bunch, mostly GG (Gap), clearly the kind of scam that promises a guaranteed pass or quick certification. The website design was flashy and looked exactly like those immigration agency websites in China.

Fang Chen flipped through a few pages and found a relatively reliable website.

Click on the "About Us" section and scroll to the bottom. A line of small print reads: "This association is a non-profit organization registered with the U.S. government, dedicated to assisting Chinese businesses in obtaining FDA certification."

Keep scrolling down. The page lists the companies they have helped, including domestic and American Chinese companies, all of which are well-known.

After thinking for a while, Fang Chen dialed the organization's number.

A middle-aged man's voice came from the other end, speaking in standard Mandarin: "Hello, Los Angeles Chinese Medical Certification Association."

"Hello, my surname is Fang. I work in cross-border medical services in China and I would like to inquire about FDA certification."

"How did you learn about us?"

"I saw this online. Your website says it helps Chinese companies get certified. I'd like to know the specific steps involved."

"Mr. Fang, you can send your company's basic information to our email address first, and we will conduct a preliminary assessment. The assessment is free of charge, and we can discuss further steps if the assessment is successful."

"How long will it take to get the results?"

"Three business days."

Fang Chen thought for a moment and asked a question that many people wouldn't ask: "What are the evaluation criteria? How do you determine whether it's feasible?"

The other party chuckled, a hint of amusement in their voice: "We'll check if your materials are genuine and if the procedures are compliant. If so, we'll help you get through it; if not, we won't do it. Specific requirements are detailed on our website, where you can also see the approximate pricing."

Fang Chen was lacking efficiency, so he asked, "How long does it take to ensure the materials are authentic and the process is compliant?"

"That depends on the efficiency of the United States government clerks; it won't be too fast, but it won't take more than a month."

Fang Chen thanked him and hung up the phone.

Now he was certain that Mr. Gu was treating them like easy prey.

Fang Chen sent Zhang Zhenghao the website address, contact number, and email address of the association in Los Angeles.

"This one costs $40,000, payable in three installments. The assessment is free. Send them your documents first and work directly with them. Don't worry about that guy surnamed Gu anymore."

"Forty thousand? That one is twelve thousand."

"Yes, the price difference is enough for you to travel on business for more than half a year."

"Okay, I'll contact them right now. But what if it really is Mr. Gu who has a partnership with that agency?"

"Cooperation is normal, but such a huge difference is not fair. He's treating us like easy prey, so there's no need to give him a good outcome."

"OK."

As Zhang Zhenghao made the OK sign, Huang Ziang sent him a message: "Come over when you have time, I have something to discuss with you."

Fang Chen replied with an "okay," said a few words to his parents, and then drove to the base.

The wind was already hot at the end of June. Fang Chen opened the car window, and the wind blowing in felt like someone was blowing a hairdryer on his face.

It wasn't even noon when we arrived at the base.

Huang Ziang was still squatting at the entrance of the prefab house. When he saw Fang Chen's car stop, he stood up to greet him.

"You're here?"

"You're here. Is there something you want to discuss in person?"

Huang Zi'ang picked up a twig from the ground, drew a circle in the soil, and then drew several smaller circles next to it.

"The fruit is selling well. Gift boxes and supermarkets are selling fast, and you've made a profit. So your investment hasn't resulted in a loss."

Fang Chen knew that the reason he had been called over was definitely not just about this, so he gestured for him to continue.

Huang Zi'ang tapped the large circle in the middle with a twig. "This plot of land can be expanded in the second half of the year. The neighboring households I mentioned to you last time are willing to rent their land to us. Because the land hasn't been cultivated much and has been abandoned for more than half a year, the rent is cheaper than the current plots."

He then pointed to the small circles next to him, "Added together, it can expand by sixty or seventy acres."

Fang Chen looked at the circles on the ground: "What about the cost?"

"The land rent isn't much. The main costs are labor, seedlings, fertilizer, and greenhouses. Conservatively estimating, expanding to 50 mu would require an initial investment of about 800,000 yuan."

Huang Ziang put down the branch, patted the dirt off his hands, and said, "Based on this year's situation, conservatively speaking, it should be 80% profitable. We can break even in two years."

"What about picking over there?"

Huang Ziang pointed to the direction behind the greenhouse, where the roofs of several old houses peeked out from behind the treetops. The tiles were gray and dusty, and some places had been replaced with red tiles, patched upon patched.

"The house is being renovated. The chef you hired came to check it out last time and said the height of the kitchen stove was wrong. They're still fixing it. Once it's finished, we can open for business."

"schedule?"

"It should be finished by the end of the month."

Fang Chen stood up and stretched his legs, which had gone numb from squatting. Blood rushed to the soles of his feet, feeling like countless needles pricking them. He stomped his feet a couple of times, which made him feel a little better.

"Expanding production is no problem, I'll cover the costs. If it's worthwhile, we can expand even more."

Eight hundred thousand is just a number to Fang Chen right now.

And it's not a very large number.

Huang Zi'ang frowned slightly: "You seem to not care at all."

Fang Chen patted the dust off his pants and glanced towards the greenhouse. The sunlight made the white plastic film reflect light, making people squint.

"We're practically family, you've already settled the score."

Huang Ziang took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, and took a puff.

"How much money did your film company invest?"

Not many.

"What about that medical company?"

"Not many."

After finishing his cigarette, Huang Zi'ang threw the butt on the ground, stubbed it out with his toe, and said nothing more.

The two sat together at the entrance of the prefab house, looking at the open space in front of the greenhouse.

The wind blew in from the passageway between the greenhouses, causing the plastic film to bulge and then collapse.

Tong Jun sent a long message, the gist of which was to thank Fang Chen for providing the opportunity.

Perhaps to save face for Fang Chen, or perhaps because Tong Jun's performance was genuinely good, Zhang Siyuan gave him the role of the second male lead.

Fang Chen only replied with "OK".

He has said what he needed to say. The filming is done, and there will be plenty of opportunities in the future.

If the film is poorly made, even if you give him the male lead this time, it won't make a difference.

Fang Chen put his phone back in his pocket and stood up.

"Let's go take a look at those houses."

Huang Zi'ang stubbed out his cigarette, ground it on the ground with the tip of his shoe, and walked ahead.

Fang Chen followed behind him, watching his back. The sweat stains on the back of his T-shirt were still wet, and a large dark stain was printed on the dark blue fabric.

"You'll see the renovations to those houses when you take a look."

When we arrived at the first renovated house, the gate was open.

The door panel was freshly painted a dark brown, gleaming in the afternoon sun. Fang Chen reached out and touched the edge of the door frame; the paint was dry, smooth, and not sticky.

Pushing open the door and walking in, I saw that most of the yard was covered with gravel, with only a small section left unpaved near the corner of the wall. The gravel was piled up there and covered with an oilcloth.

The grape trellis has been set up, with wooden posts buried in the ground and several wooden strips laid horizontally on top, nailed very securely.

"The grapes won't be able to climb up until next year." Huang Zi'ang stood under the grape trellis, looked up, and said, "This year, we'll plant loofah first. They grow fast and can provide shade in two months."

Fang Chen stood in the middle of the courtyard and walked around.

The windows in the main house have been replaced with large glass windows instead of small wooden ones, which has greatly improved the lighting.

Through the glass, you can see the white walls and light gray floor tiles inside, so clean it looks like a new house that hasn't been lived in yet but is ready for people to move in.

Huang Zi'ang followed him in.

"This is a restaurant. There are six tables, which can seat about thirty people." He pointed to the east wall, "There's a food delivery hatch over there that leads to the kitchen."

Fang Chen walked to the food delivery area and peered inside.

The kitchen stove was built and dismantled repeatedly. The cement in the brick joints was not completely dry; it was grayish-white and hard when pressed with a finger.

"Has Zhang Wen read it?"

"I've seen it. He came last weekend with a ruler and measured the height of the stove, the width of the food delivery opening, and the position of the exhaust pipe. After he looked at it, he said it was okay. He'll come back again after everything is finished to teach those people in the village how to cook."

"Okay then."

Huang Zi'ang suddenly asked, "How's the villa renovation going?"

"Hiss...right."

He has been living with his parents during this time. Although it is not the old home he remembers, it is full of the feeling of home, which makes him forget that he has a villa under renovation.

He quickly took out his phone and called to ask Ivy for details.

Previously, all matters, big and small, were entrusted to her, while Xu Wen kept an eye on the specifics.

Xuwen didn't report, which means it's not completely finished yet, but we still need to ask about the general situation.

The voice on the other end had a tone of "you finally remembered to ask," a hint of complaint, but not much; it was the kind of faint sense of death that naturally comes out after being stood up for a long time.

"You finally remembered to ask. The hard furnishings were finished last month, and the soft furnishings have arrived too. You said last time that you didn't need to ask and could decide for yourself, but I've already decided. You can come anytime to inspect if you want."

"Next weekend, I'll take my parents to see it."

"Okay, bring your assistant with you too. I handle all the miscellaneous tasks with her, just in case you get confused."

"Can."

Huang Zi'ang stood under the grape trellis, a cigarette that had appeared in his hand at some point, which he held in his mouth without lighting, a smile on his face.

"I'm so busy, I don't even know what's going on with the renovation of my own house."

"Hey, you don't know anything about anything except farming, so let's not make fun of each other."

Huang Zi'ang laughed, lit a cigarette, and said, "Let's go to a fellow villager's house for dinner."

The dirt road in the fields was narrow, so the two people couldn't walk side by side; they had to walk one in front of the other.

About five minutes later, Huang Ziang stopped in front of an iron gate. The gate was not closed and was half open, revealing a clean cement courtyard inside, with several bundles of firewood piled in the corner.

"Old Chen," Huang Zi'ang called out.

A man in his fifties walked out of the main room. His skin was tanned dark red, and he was wearing a gray short-sleeved shirt with a loose collar and a line of illegible "GG" printed on it.

He saw Huang Ziang, smiled, then saw Fang Chen, paused for a moment, then rubbed his hands on his pants twice before reaching over.

"Is this Mr. Fang? Come in, come in."

Old Chen's hands were rough, dry, and his knuckles were large. He shook hands very gently, as if afraid of hurting Fang Chen, and pulled away after just a light touch.

"Brother Chen, I'm sorry to bother you."

"No, no, don't bother me. Please have a seat, I'll go make some tea."

Old Chen turned and went into the main room. He took out a glass jar of tea from the cabinet and poured a cup of hot tea for Fang Chen and Huang Zi'ang.

"Please wait a little longer, my husband is tending the fire, the food will be ready soon."

There was no sofa in the main room of the rural house, so Old Chen brought over two chairs with backrests for the two of them to sit on.

"Here, have a piece of watermelon."

Old Chen brought over a plate of watermelon from the table, cut irregularly, with some pieces large and some small.

He picked up two pieces and handed them to the two men, then took one for himself, took a big bite, and a drop of juice dripped down his chin, which he wiped with his sleeve.

"Mmm, sweet!" Fang Chen exclaimed after taking a bite.

Old Chen grinned: "Of course! This morning, Boss Huang said you were coming for lunch, so I went to the field to pick them and soaked them in the well all morning before cutting them open."

Fang Chen ate the melon and put the rind on the table.

Old Chen took the skin away, threw it at the door for the chickens to peck at, and then handed over another piece.

After finishing the melon, Old Chen put his hands on his knees and didn't say anything.

The three of them didn't feel awkward about not talking. They just sat there like a family sitting in front of their own house, enjoying the sun. The sun was nice enough; they didn't need to talk.

A middle-aged woman walked in from the back room, carrying two plates of food.

"Help serve the dishes."

Old Chen immediately stood up and followed his wife to the kitchen.

The dishes were just ordinary home-style cooking, not much different from what Xiang Pingping made.

"Is Mr. Fang able to eat here?"

Fang Chen nodded: "I also grew up in the countryside, so I can eat here!"

Old Chen took a bottle of wine from the cabinet; it was a glass bottle with no label: "Bulk wine, Mr. Fang, would you like some?"

Fang Chen waved his hand: "I drove here and I have to go back later, so I won't drink."

The middle-aged woman slapped Old Chen twice: "Hey, you just can't control your mouth, can you? How can you serve this wine?"

Huang Ziang also shook his head to indicate that he would not drink, and Old Chen smiled and took the wine back.

During the casual conversation, Fang Chen asked, "Brother Chen, is there anything you can help with at home?"

Old Chen stirred the rice in his bowl, took a bite, chewed it, swallowed it, and looked up at Fang Chen with a puzzled expression.

"Mr. Fang, why are you asking this?"

"I just wanted to ask if you have any difficulties at home while you're working at the base, and if you can help out if you can."

Old Chen thought for a moment and said, "There aren't any major difficulties, it's just that the road in front of the gate is uneven, and it's hard to walk on when it rains. The tricycle keeps getting stuck."

Huang Ziang said from the side, "That's perfect, the farmhouse is under renovation right now. I'll talk to the construction team and ask them to lay some gravel on the road. Once it's compacted, it won't sink."

Old Chen thought for a moment, then tapped his chopsticks lightly on the rim of his bowl: "There's another one. A few tiles on the roof of my house are broken, and it leaks when it rains. I can fix it myself, but I just haven't been able to buy any new tiles. Nobody in the village has any left over, and they don't sell them at the market. If you go looking for them, they won't even sell one or two pieces. I've just had to cover them with an oilcloth."

Huang Zi'ang said, "Simple, I'll have someone deliver a few tiles this afternoon."

"Thank you, Boss Huang."

Fang Chen waited for Old Chen to continue.

Old Chen didn't continue speaking, but instead picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks and chewed it heartily.

He made no other requests, but simply lowered his head, held his bowl, and ate his rice with great relish and focus, as if this matter was more important than anything else in the world.

Fang Chen recalled the few days he had spent at the base.

Old Wu was squatting next to him, eagerly waiting for him to nod, when the middle-aged woman grabbed her son's arm and pushed him forward.

Many people came that day, each with their own request, and each waiting for his approval.

Old Chen didn't ask anything of him, which was good.