The Value of a Signature (Part 2)

  When mantou is served, a thought moves in my heart, and tears have already fallen for thousands of times.

  A majestic wooden chair with an ancient charm stands quietly in the middle of the attic, where the slanted sunlight on a spring afternoon enters through a small window and casts a hazy yellowish light on the chair, giving it a rich and substantial tactile feel.

  In the words of Wang Jian, this feeling is a "love that has been condensed and solidified by time", although this statement is too artistic, but in fact, there is no depiction that can be closer to the truth than Wang Jian's simple sentence.

  Two people, already over a hundred years old combined, stood at the attic door, quietly gazing at this ancient armchair bathed in orange sunlight, the scene filled with the serenity and tranquility of 1930s silent films.

  The chair's originally broken leg is now firmly attached to the long-separated body, and for a moment, it seems as if one can see a vague shadow similar to two people embracing.

  "This mantou is not bad." Wang Jian ate down a big mantou in three mouthfuls: "There's still a hint of milk flavor."

  Wang Jian's untimely words suddenly startled the two brothers, who were lost in thought. They simultaneously wiped away the dried tears on their faces and forcefully blew their noses, which had become congested from crying. Just like many years ago when his older brother took him to watch puppet shows on old streets, they walked hand in hand to the chair that held many emotions Wang Jian couldn't understand, gently stroking it.

  "It can't be moved now, at least wait for three days, after it has completely solidified, as long as you don't hit it with a hammer, it's basically fine."

  The old man's eyes behind his glasses were red, and he turned to look at Wang Jian, who was devouring a plate of white buns, and asked in a hoarse voice: "How did you do it?"

  Wang Jian swallowed the bun in his mouth, choked and turned pale, then said after a long while: "My dad taught me this way, how would I know how I did it? This stuff is probably lost already. Originally, apart from this one, there were also four other minor skills that couldn't be shown off: mending porcelain, mending silk, mending stele and mending teeth."

  "Little trick..." The old man, who was reminiscing about the past, was amused by Wang Jian: "Your little trick has fooled me for at least twenty years, kid. Name a price!"

  Wang Jian immediately regained his energy upon hearing the payment for the project, took out a broken mobile phone from his pocket and started calculating with the calculator, muttering to himself as he calculated.

  "I told you I'd give you a 20% discount, let me calculate it. Labor costs, material costs, and craftsmanship costs add up to 1,000 yuan, plus 20% for rush fees is 1,200 yuan. If I give you an 80% discount on 1,200 yuan, that's 960 yuan. You ate five big steamed buns, each one counts as 50 cents, so that's 2.5 yuan, and a cup of milk is 1.5 yuan, for a total of 4 yuan. If I subtract 4 yuan from 960 yuan, that's 956 yuan. Let me round it up to 955 yuan."

  The old man and his brother were stunned at the time, instinctively feeling that they had misheard, 950 yuan... what concept is this? At first, he found a carpenter who was said to be the most authoritative in China to repair the chair here. The labor cost alone was 100,000 yuan, but it still wasn't repaired. Otherwise, the old man wouldn't have been reduced to this state of desperation, but it's also considered good luck for him. If Wang Jian had come a day earlier or later, perhaps this chair would have become the main reason for his death.

  "Only nine hundred and fifty?" Even Lao Tou's younger brother didn't dare believe it: "You haven't... miscalculated?"

  "I'll count it again." Wang Jian counted it again very sincerely, then nodded solemnly: "That's right, it's nine hundred and five. I didn't overcharge you, honest to young and old."

  After finishing, Wang Jian also took out his self-made handwritten woodworking repair price list from his pocket. The prices for repairing a steel wire bed were 150, supplementing furniture according to the materials used, making a complete set of furniture depending on the difficulty and materials used, etc. The operating costs of various things were clear at a glance.

  The old man pushed away Wang Jian's broken paper scraps with one hand, frowning at him, wanting to say something but not speaking for a long time.

  "It's too expensive..." Wang Jian was somewhat displeased: "I've already given you an 80% discount, and the materials for this chair are too precious. I was trembling with fear when I made it, afraid of damaging it in any way."

  The old man was made to laugh by Wang Jian and patted his shoulder: "Come down with me, I'll settle the bill for you."

  "Alright." Wang Jian happily followed him down, still speaking in a negotiating tone to the old man: "I'll still owe you the rent, I need to buy some things, or else just eating mantou all the time isn't going to work. Let's settle it together after I find a job, okay?"

  "Do you know the value of that chair?"

  "You told me, 200 million, I calculated it, a kilogram of noodles worth 100 yuan in cash is about 50,000 pieces, one billion is two thousand kilograms, and two billion is four thousand kilograms, that's two tons... even if I exchange it for rice, I can eat for a year."

  The old man heard Wang Jian's careful calculation and couldn't help but look at him in surprise: "Then you..."

  "Are you saying I'm charging too little?" Wang Jian chuckled: "In any line of work, one must have principles. No matter how expensive something is, it's yours. I know what value I've put into it and what price I should charge. It's up to me to decide the price, not for you to dictate. If you're in such a hurry, I'll just refund your money right now and let the chair remain broken."

  "Don't bother me with this old body of mine, I'll listen to you. Just 950!"

  The old man cried out in alarm, repeatedly begging for mercy. He knew that Wang Jian was a straightforward and uncomplicated person, saying he was foolish, but he was clever like a monkey, but saying he was clever... his values were really too outdated compared to today's society, so dealing with this guy, it's still safer to follow the crowd.

  Down to the bottom of the building, Wang Jian sat on a rattan chair, casually pulled out his own cigarettes, lit one, and instantly in the room that high-end smoke flavor rushed into a kind of inexplicable inferior tobacco smell. The group of high-end people sitting on the sofa were still staring at Wang Jian with their mouths agape, while Wang Jian also looked at them with a hint of a smile, both sides silent.

  Before long, the old man came out of the inner room with a big red package in his hand and handed it to Wang Jian with a smile: "Saying thanks is too common."

  "It's business, after all. That chair can't be moved for three days, or it will easily become crooked."

  Having said that, Wang Jian stood up and was about to leave, but just as he took a couple of steps, the old man suddenly grabbed him. The old man bypassed the whole family and pulled Wang Jian onto the balcony, secretly handing him a piece of paper: "Take a look."

  Wang Jian uttered an "oh" and slowly opened the paper, discovering that on top of it were written three big characters in a bold and cursive font: "Letter of Recommendation". Below them was a heap of flattering words, followed by Wang Jian's name at the end.

  The signature is Sun Zhaoguo and Sun Zhaozu.

  "What? You recommend me to be a teacher?"

  "Just take this and go, it's not a good school, there are only a bunch of spoiled kids inside, but the environment is one of the best in the country."

  Wang Jian took a closer look and was shocked to discover that the two old men had recommended him to go to a school that was notoriously difficult to get into, claiming that it did not accept anyone without a postgraduate degree or above. Although it was called a public-private partnership, in reality, it was essentially a foreign education group that had acquired a suburban school that had been struggling to recruit students but had a vast area of land. The school had faced closure several years ago but managed to survive due to favorable policies and the rapid expansion of the city, transforming it into one of the top schools in the country within just a few short years.

  Just as the old man said, this school became a famous school not because it can produce many top students or win many academic awards every year, but simply because it has strong financial support and successfully created the brand of "noble school", attracting those rich people who only choose expensive things to flock in, thinking that if they don't throw their children in, they will be sorry for the money in their pockets.

  Wang Jian was actually worried about this school with a tuition fee of 300,000 yuan per semester. To say nothing of other things, but the teacher's salary is Wang Jian's dream. In a month, an ordinary teacher can have more than 20,000 yuan, and the head teacher can reach around 30,000 yuan, not including year-end bonuses and various bonuses.

  But Wang Jian, this grass dog who didn't even get his graduation certificate, how could he possibly be chosen by such a school? So he was too lazy to go for an interview. After all, no matter how thick-skinned a person is, they will still suffer a blow to their self-esteem after being ruthlessly rejected.

  "Is this enough?"

  Wang Jian waved the letter of introduction in his hand with a suspicious expression, looking very strange.

  "You'll know when you go, anyway I promised to help introduce the job. My ability is only that much, they can still give us two brothers some face."

  Wang Jian said with a sigh: "Then I'll thank you for helping me open the back door."

  "It's too common to say thank you." The old man sighed: "I've only done this once in my life, and I'm really making an exception for you."

  "So when am I going?"

  "See you tomorrow morning! No need for me to say where, right?"

  "It's obvious even with one's eyes closed."

  One one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one one

  I've signed. I'm feeling really weird... The new book stage is always nerve-wracking, so please continue to support me as usual. The sequel will be even more exciting, so stay tuned!

  And I need confidence, all kinds of votes! All kinds of clicks! All kinds of support! Just saying thanks is too common.