Chapter 10 The Tenth Day of Not Running Away The tenth day of not running away...

Chapter 10 The Tenth Day of Not Running Away The tenth day of not running away...

Mr. Ye pointed at Wen Chan and said bluntly, "You said the payment was urgent and asked for payment at the beginning of next month, which I agreed to because you beat me at cards. You also finalized the design at that time, and now you want to change it. If word gets out, how can I do business?"

Boss Ye leaned forward, a cigar dangling from his lips, and looked at Wen Chan: "You guys should think about me too. This is such a big factory, with so many orders, and all the work has been arranged. Now we have to make special changes for you."

The fat man's face turned pale and then red, somewhat embarrassed. He gave Wen Chan a meaningful look, as if to say that if it didn't work out, then so be it.

Wen Chan seemed completely oblivious to the dissatisfaction in Boss Ye's tone, and said with a smile, "You can't say that, Boss Ye. You probably can tell that we're just greenhorns, new to this business. This order is very important to us; we've staked everything on it. Please, be generous and help us out."

She gave the fat man a look.

The fat man then realized what was happening and chimed in, "Yes, Mr. Ye, just consider it an act of charity; you'll definitely be rewarded in the future."

"No, no, there's no room for negotiation."

Boss Ye, however, remained stubborn, waving his fat hand like a fan, his face full of impatience. "Your order only totals 80,000 yuan. How much money have we made from you? So much trouble. If you keep pestering us, this matter is..."

Just as Boss Ye was about to explode, the office door was suddenly pushed open.

His wife, wearing high heels and looking furious, slammed the form on the desk, glanced at Wen Chan and the fat man, and then said directly to Boss Ye, "Old Ye, we're in trouble. That damned translator is in the hospital. You need to ask around to see if you can find an English translator to help."

"What?" Boss Ye stood up abruptly. "The translator is in the hospital? What about our contract for this afternoon?"

"I'm here to tell you to find someone quickly." The landlady said with her hands on her hips, "I just came back from the hospital. That translator must have eaten something wrong and is so weak from diarrhea. Don't count on him coming to help today. I'm so angry! Today is so important. We told him repeatedly beforehand, and this bastard still messed up at this critical moment."

Mr. Ye's face darkened, and he picked up the phone. "Where can you find a translator at this time? Even if you do, they might not be available."

As expected.

Mr. Ye made four or five phone calls in a row looking for someone, but he couldn't find a single translator to come back.

The translator that Boss Ye and his team are looking for is not an ordinary translator; they need to be familiar with business English. If such talent exists, it is mostly found in schools or state-owned enterprises. Factories like Boss Ye's do not know many such people.

The proprietress was extremely anxious. Looking at her watch, she stamped her foot and said, "What are we going to do this afternoon? We can't delay discussing the cooperation with that foreigner. He's a real handful; he said he's going somewhere else tomorrow and might not be back for a while. If we can't convince him today, we'll miss out on this big deal!"

"Boss lady."

Wen Chan had heard the whole story clearly and knew what was going on. She said, "If you're looking for a translator, why don't you let me try?"

Both Mr. Ye and his wife were taken aback.

Boss Ye looked at Wen Chan, "You? As a translator?"

His eyes lit up. "Are you a college student?"

The fat man paused for a moment, then said, "I'm not a college student. But who says only college students can be translators? If you don't believe me, you can bring some documents, and I'll translate them for you on the spot. If you think it's unreliable, there's nothing to lose."

Boss Ye and his wife exchanged a glance.

Boss Ye said to Wen Chan, "You all go out first, let's discuss this."

Wen Chan didn't insist and walked out with the fat man.

The office door closed.

The proprietress immediately asked, "I didn't have a chance to ask you earlier, what are these two doing here? Why are they sitting here like idiots, listening to us talk for so long?"

Mr. Ye bent down and rummaged through his office drawer for English documents, casually saying, "Here to alter the style of the clothes."

"Then let them change it," the proprietress said. "Why waste their time?"

"What do you know?" Boss Ye said, "They didn't make much money on this deal to begin with, and now they're making all these changes. They don't have the time for that."

He opened the folder. "This is it. It happens to contain a Chinese-British contract. Let that little girl show off her skills and see just how capable she really is."

Outside the office.

The fat man looked at Wen Chan several times, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back.

Just as he looked at Wen Chan again, Wen Chan turned her head away and said, "Just say what you have to say."

“Then I’ll be blunt.” The fat man said in a low voice, “Sister-in-law, you really know English. You’re not just bluffing, are you? If you are, let’s make a quick getaway before they come out. If they refuse to change the design, fine. But if it affects their business, I’m afraid we might not even get the goods for this order.”

The fat man was very worried.

Just as Wen Chan was about to speak, the office door opened, and Boss Ye, holding a document and sporting a beer belly, handed it to Wen Chan. "Just translate the first page of this document into Chinese. You have fifteen minutes, is that enough?"

The proprietress glared at Mr. Ye and said to Wen Chan, "Fifteen minutes is a bit tight, but the translation is all done simultaneously. Foreigners don't have the patience to wait. If you really have this ability, we'll pay you for today's job the same as before, 800 per hour."

800 per hour?

The fat man's eyes were practically popping out.

"Translation is so lucrative?"

The proprietress smiled and said, "Young man, this is no ordinary translation. It's not just 'hello' or 'goodbye.' It has to be a professional translation. 800 here isn't much. There are skilled simultaneous translators outside who can earn a thousand an hour, and some even earn US dollars."

Mr. Ye, growing impatient with their conversation, waved his hand and said, "Say less and be quiet so Miss Wen can concentrate on translating."

Wen Chan looked up at this moment and said to Boss Ye, "No need, I can translate it now."

Mr. Ye swayed, nearly falling off his chair. He grabbed the armrest, steadied himself, and looked at Wen Chan suspiciously. "Miss Wen, you're not joking with us, are you? Let me tell you, this is..."

"Just point to any section, and I'll translate it for you. You can check if it's accurate, and that's it. Let's not waste everyone's time," Wen Chan said.

She turned the contract upside down and pushed it in front of Boss Ye.

Boss Ye really didn't believe it. The previous translation of the contract took several days. This young girl had quite the big mouth.

"Okay, then you translate this part..."

He pointed casually.

Wen Chan glanced at the package and immediately said, "The seller guarantees that the goods provided under the contract are brand new, unused, and manufactured according to the size required by the buyer. The seller is allowed a certain degree of material loss, but the loss shall not exceed 3%..."

The proprietress and the fat man both looked at Boss Ye.

Mr. Ye stared at the Chinese contract in front of him, his mouth slightly open. He immediately sat up straight, flipped to the back, and pointed to a legal clause at the end.

"Translate this into English for me!"

Wen Chan took the contract and glanced at it.

The proprietress watched with curiosity from the side.

Wen Chan calmly crossed her legs and, referring to the contract, said, "At the request of the distributor, the manufacturer shall..."

Boss Ye and his wife didn't know many people who could speak English. They had previously thought that the translator was quite fluent in English, but for some reason, when they heard Chan speaking English now, they felt a sense of awe and wonder.

"How is it? Is the translation correct?" the proprietress asked her husband curiously.

Mr. Ye then realized that he hadn't had time to check the English contract, and awkwardly coughed, covering his lips. "Ms. Wen's English is so good, did you teach yourself?"

Wen Chan smiled and said, "We happen to have a radio at home, so I learned how to use it when I had some free time."

Boss Ye believed it to be true and began to look at Wen Chan with new respect.

These people are uneducated themselves, but they have the utmost respect for educated people, especially those who are self-taught—that's even more remarkable.

"Miss Wen's English sounds so beautiful, like singing." The proprietress smiled broadly. "I think there's no need for a test. We'll leave it to Miss Wen today. We'll treat you to lunch, and this afternoon we'll have to trouble you to help with the translation."

Wen Chan naturally wouldn't refuse their kindness.

When it comes to generosity, Mr. Ye and his wife are truly generous; they treated them to Chaoshan cuisine for lunch.

Chen Bozheng and his group have arrived in Shantou. They approached the bank employee, who was overjoyed to hear that they wanted to buy more than 10,000 yuan worth of goods at once.

Chen Bozheng gave the employee a 200 yuan red envelope, and the employee patted his chest and guaranteed that they could pick up the goods and take them away that afternoon.

That afternoon, Chen Bozheng and the others had nothing to do, so they wandered around and eventually found a restaurant to sit down and rest.

Lin Qingfeng was puzzled. "Brother Zheng, why did you give that guy two hundred yuan just now? I reckon that guy will definitely get some benefits from the people selling treasury bonds later."

Chen Bo was rinsing the bowls and chopsticks with hot water when he heard this. He glanced at Lin Qingfeng and said, "Fengzi, you can't make big money without spending small amounts. We might be doing long-term business with them. If we don't build a good relationship now, when will we? Besides, if we give them some benefits now, they'll be more willing to work hard for us. These two hundred yuan might just help us earn more than ten times the profit."

Lin Qingfeng was aware of this principle, but he was just unwilling to spend the money.

The monk said, "You can't go wrong by listening to Brother Zheng."

Chen Bozheng grinned. The restaurant owner served several dishes, and as Chen Bozheng ate, he started thinking about Wen Chan and Fatty.

I wonder how Wenchan is doing now.

Judging from her temperament these days, she seems quite energetic and impulsive; she might have already approached Boss Ye.

Achoo!

Wen Chan turned her face away, covered her mouth, and sneezed.

The proprietress asked with concern, "Xiao Wen, are you alright? Do you need some cold medicine?"

Wen Chan waved her hand. To entertain her, Mr. and Mrs. Ye ordered seven or eight dishes. Wen Chan was only able to eat a few bites of each dish because she was too hungry to eat more.

The fat man was in for a treat, as he and Boss Ye ate with great gusto.

The proprietress simply told Wen Chan to go with her first, and said to Wen Chan, "You're going to be a translator this afternoon, so you'd better dress smartly. I'll buy you a decent outfit, and I'll pay for it!"

The proprietress was really generous; she dragged Wen Chan to buy a suit uniform, as well as stockings and high heels.

When Wen Chan came out of the changing room, the sales clerk and the shop owner were both amazed by her beauty.

"How is it? Is it suitable?" Wen Chan asked the proprietress.

The proprietress looked at Wen Chan from left to right, her eyes wide with admiration. She pulled Wen Chan aside and said, "Perfect, perfect! Oh my, if I had been as beautiful as you when I was young, I would have gone to Hong Kong to compete for Miss Hong Kong."

Wen Chan chuckled, "You flatter me too much."

The sales clerk came over and said, "Miss, your sister wasn't exaggerating. In all my years in this business, I've never seen a woman look as good in a suit as you. This outfit looks like it was made just for you."

She looked Wen Chan up and down, her eyes filled with amazement.

There are women prettier than Wen Chan, taller and fairer, and plenty of them in Shenzhen, but she has a special kind of charm, a sophisticated and aloof air.

The proprietress paid the money willingly.

She initially thought Wen Chan was too young and was afraid that the foreigner would look down on her and affect their business, so she brought her to buy a suit. Little did she expect that the young girl would look so good in the clothes.