"Five thousand?" Upon hearing this price, Qian Yongcai found it acceptable.
But after guessing the price, Xiao Xian's pretty little hand was still raised; she was truly shocked by the price tag. Five thousand—why five thousand? That's more than what Mr. Xiao Hua makes in a year from planting rice.
"No way, fifty thousand?" Qian Yongcai's heart bled; he had been swindled by a girl as fresh and lovely as a little jasmine flower.
"However, this is an imported tree that you really can't buy domestically. Although fifty thousand is a bit much, compared to the landscaping money I'll receive, there is still a profit to be made. Looks like I'll have to pocket the workers' wages," Qian Yongcai gritted his teeth, "Grandma, fine, fifty thousand it is. Just put your hand down; it's giving me a stomach cramp."
