Earning 100 million a day, yet trapped in a county town.

Chapter 38 Mr. Wang, come and try the dishes.

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Upon hearing this, Zhou Lijuan's face immediately fell.

She slammed the fruit basket on the bedside table, turned around, and glared at Cheng Wanhua.

"Don't I care about my own son?"

Her voice rose eight octaves, startling Xiao Jun, who was playing on his phone next to her, so he looked up.

"I've devoted all my attention to you and your son! I help you manage the factory during the day, and take care of Xiaojun when I get home at night. When you had your accident, I ran around taking care of you. When you were in the hospital, I looked after you every day! And now you say I don't care about my son? Have you no conscience?"

Cheng Wanhua shrank back after being scolded and quickly put on a smiling face.

"Honey, honey, I was just kidding, don't take it to heart."

He reached out to grab Zhou Lijuan's hand, but she shoved him away.

"Honey, I was just saying it offhand, don't be angry. Do you think I don't know how you treat your son?"

Zhou Lijuan snorted and didn't reply.

Cheng Wanhua coaxed her a few more times, and Zhou Lijuan's expression gradually calmed down.

The two remained silent for a while.

The only sound in the ward was Xiao Jun playing on his phone; the background music in the game was so cheerful it seemed out of place.

After a while, Zhou Lijuan spoke.

"Are you really not planning to transfer the garment factory to Edison Chen?"

Cheng Wanhua's expression changed.

The smile he had been using to coax his wife vanished, replaced by an unwavering resolve.

"What else is there to transfer?"

His voice wasn't loud, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Your son is so rich, does he really need one more factory?"

Zhou Lijuan opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again.

Cheng Wanhua continued speaking quickly, as if he had prepared this speech in advance.

"Xiao Jun is only eight years old this year. What about middle school, university, getting married, buying a house? All of these things cost money. If the factory closes down, what will Xiao Jun eat?"

He paused, looking into Zhou Lijuan's eyes.

"This factory is the culmination of my more than ten years of hard work. It's also the only asset I can leave to Xiaojun."

Zhou Lijuan lowered her head, her fingers twisting the hem of her clothes.

"But......"

"But what?" Cheng Wanhua's tone softened slightly, but still carried an undeniable air of authority. "Edison Chen isn't short of money. He invests in Shanghai; he can easily come up with over a million yuan. Why would he care about our small factory?"

Zhou Lijuan fell silent.

What Cheng Wanhua said seems to make some sense.

But she always felt that something was wrong.

Yesterday at the hospital, Cheng Wanhua personally agreed to it.

He said, "I'll give you the factory, and I agree to your terms."

Today the person paid back the money and got the IOU back, but now they're denying it.

If this gets out, what kind of talk will it make?

Zhou Lijuan hesitated for a moment, then whispered something.

"But we still owe the bank one million."

Cheng Wanhua waved his hand, as if he had already thought of a solution.

"I've thought about this issue."

He leaned against the headboard, one hand resting on his left arm in a cast, a look of "everything is under control" on his face.

"After I'm discharged from the hospital tomorrow, I plan to mortgage the house I'm currently living in to see how much I can borrow. If that's not enough, I'll borrow some more from relatives and friends."

He glanced at Zhou Lijuan.

"You should borrow some money from your mother's side too; the old lady should have some savings anyway."

Zhou Lijuan frowned.

"You're eyeing my mom's money too?"

"It's not that I'm thinking about it, it's that I'm borrowing it," Cheng Wanhua corrected. "I'll definitely pay it back once the factory's cash flow improves."

Zhou Lijuan did not speak.

Cheng Wanhua continued, his tone becoming increasingly firm.

"No matter what, we cannot sell the garment factory. This is our only chance to turn things around."

He paused for a moment, then added:

"Of course, it will also be Xiaojun's only asset from now on."

When Xiao Jun heard his name called, he looked up at Cheng Wanhua, but didn't quite understand what his father was saying, so he lowered his head again and continued playing his game.

Zhou Lijuan sat there, not moving for a long time.

There was a battle going on in her head.

On one side is the eldest son, Wang Guanxi.

On one side were her husband, Cheng Wanhua, and her youngest son, Xiaojun.

Edison Chen provided the money and handled the arrangements.

It's really unacceptable to go back on your word after making a promise.

But Cheng Wanhua's point also makes sense.

Edison Chen is so rich, he doesn't need this factory.

Xiao Jun is still young; he'll need money for many things in the future.

What will happen to Xiaojun if the factory is gone?

Zhou Lijuan thought for a long time before finally sighing.

"Then let's do as you say."

. . . . . .

On Jiangcheng Avenue.

The Cullinan weaved through traffic with the windows open, letting the wind rush in.

Wang Guanxi suddenly remembered a sentence.

It was something a former colleague of his told him when he used to work in Shanghai.

"Some relatives are people you should help. They should owe you money. If you make them pay it back, then you're in the wrong."

At the time, he felt that this statement was too absolute.

Now he thinks, "That's fucking right!"

Wang Guanxi was feeling irritable when his phone suddenly rang. It was Chung Chao-lung calling.

As soon as the call connected, Chung Chao-lung's voice was cheerful: "Brother Edison, are you busy? I just recruited a few young and beautiful female teaching assistants. Want to come over and try them out, and test their skills?"

After hanging up the phone, Zhong Zhaolong quickly sent over the location.

Wang Guanxi glanced at the location; it was in the suburbs of Jiangcheng, near the reservoir.

. . . . . .

After driving for about forty minutes, we turned from the main road into a side road, and then from the side road into a concrete road that could only accommodate one car at a time.

On both sides were farmland and weeds, and the further we went, the more remote we became.

Wang Guanxi glanced at the navigation, then looked out the window, and began to have doubts.

Where the hell are we going?

Just then, an iron gate appeared in front of them.

Next to the iron gate was a wall covered with vines, completely obscuring what was inside.

The iron gate opened automatically, and the Cullinan drove in, revealing a bright and spacious interior.

A three-story villa with off-white exterior walls, large floor-to-ceiling windows, and bluestone slabs paving the entrance.

In front of the villa is a small fishpond, but the water is very clear, and you can see fish swimming in it.

Zhong Zhaolong stood at the door, wearing a floral shirt, smiling like a Maitreya Buddha.

After getting out of the car, Wang Guanxi looked around and couldn't help but make a comment.

"Boss Zhong, this place is way too remote! The GPS almost led me to the next county."

Zhong Zhaolong chuckled, walked over, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Mr. Wang, you don't understand, wouldn't it be better to be more discreet?"

He lowered his voice, leaned closer, and gave an indescribable smile.

"This place is specifically for entertaining friends."

Wang Guanxi glanced at him and understood.

For people who can't appear in public, or for matters that can't be discussed openly, this kind of place is perfect.

The widely read online novel, "One Hundred Million a Day, Yet Trapped in a County Town," is a heartfelt work by author 7RFrmN.