Chapter 77: Boss Wang

Noon.
He hurried back home for lunch.
As soon as he finished eating, Wang Qiang was dragged off to Qinghai Road by Lao Zhu and Lao Sun.
Second floor, inside the shop.
Standing at the doorway, Wang Qiang stared in amazement at the dozen or so televisions scattered haphazardly across the room. He pointed and exclaimed, “You managed to gather all these TVs in just one morning?”
Lao Sun, cigarette between his fingers, replied, “Yeah, luck was on our side. Lao Tian had about ten TVs left over, and Zhu and I bought them all.”
“I’ve tested them—none of the TVs have any issues.” Lao Zhu was a bit excited. “What’s next? Should we bring over the game consoles?”
Wang Qiang walked in, gesturing along the wall near the door. “Let’s set up a small counter here. Next to it, place a little fridge—well, a small cabinet. Go buy some drinks from the local shop and stock them.”
Lao Zhu looked puzzled. “What’s the point of preparing drinks?”
Wang Qiang smiled, “If someone gets thirsty while playing, we can sell them a drink.”
Though he didn't quite get it, Lao Zhu nodded.
Perhaps it was a difference in perspective; Wang Qiang was thinking about serving customers. Whether they were students or adults, convenience would bring better business.
He walked over to the east wall. “Line up twenty small tables along the wall, make sure it’s right against the wall. Then buy thirty or forty chairs. Also, get seven or eight benches.”
Lao Zhu grunted. “Anything else?”
“That’s it for now. Get everything arranged, and tonight we’ll bring over the consoles and do some testing ourselves. If all goes well, we’ll open tomorrow,” Wang Qiang said.
After he finished speaking, he was unexpectedly filled with a sense of accomplishment, as if he were a real boss. From returning to 1994 with nothing, fishing for crayfish in the river, to now partnering up to open a game room—he’d been through a lot, even though it had only been about a month.
Just one month.
His life had undergone earth-shattering changes compared to his memories.
Wang Qiang couldn’t help but think back to the misery of his previous life, how his mother visited every relative, begging for money so he could go to school, almost kneeling in front of them, yet still couldn’t gather enough. In the end, it was his father who borrowed money from his coworkers. But now, the cash in his pocket was enough not only to pay for tuition, but was more than many families earned in a whole year. All this because he had an advantage in this new life.
His eyes grew distant, as if trying to look into the future; but his life’s trajectory had already changed, and Wang Qiang didn’t know where his limits lay. One thing was certain, though: as long as he worked hard, he’d have no worries about food or clothing.
Just as he was lost in thought, Lao Zhu and Lao Sun’s conversation reached his ears.
“Lao Sun, thanks for your help today. Come to my place for dinner tonight.”
“No, no, it was nothing.”
“That’s not how it works. You gave up a whole morning of business to help me with the TVs, so you have to come for dinner. Otherwise, you’ll be disrespecting the Zhu family.”
“What are you saying? Of course I’ll come. By the way, if you want tables and chairs, talk to Lao Yao. He’s well connected and can probably find some cheap ones.”
...
The afternoon was spent busy with Lao Zhu and the others, arranging tables and chairs. They finally got the game room set up. Wang Qiang focused on testing each game console, including both standard game cartridges and RPG cartridges.
Especially when he tested “Metal Max” and “Destiny of an Emperor,” nostalgia washed over him.
“Metal Max,” also known as “Mech Warrior,” was sometimes pirated and called “Heavy Brigade” domestically. There was a character in it who gave him a feeling of invincible loneliness—Red Wolf. If Gomez hadn’t cheated, perhaps that blood-red-haired man would have never tasted defeat.
And “Destiny of an Emperor” was full of things to reminisce about: the 64-bit bug for item farming, unlimited recruiting of generals—even Lü Bu could join your ranks. It was fascinating.
After confirming that the consoles and cartridges were all in good working order, Wang Qiang stretched tiredly. Glancing at his watch, he was speechless—it was already six in the afternoon. He had planned to go to the foreign language school to sell Walkmans, but at this hour, the students had probably all gone home.
Forget it.
He’d go tomorrow.
Just as he finished testing, Lao Zhu came over. “All good?”
On the screen, the plumber had just cleared the first level and grabbed the flag. Wang Qiang turned off the console. “Yeah, let’s open for business tomorrow.”
Lao Zhu was delighted, “I’ve got fireworks ready. Come on, let’s head back for dinner. Lao Yao and Lao Sun have probably been waiting a while.”
In the afternoon, Boss Yao had helped with the tables and chairs, and was worn out.
Switching off the TV, Wang Qiang stood up. “Let’s go.”
...
Six thirty.
The sky was already darkening, and a cool night breeze was blowing.
Wang Qiang and Lao Zhu headed back to the Friendship Guesthouse, discussing pricing the entire way. They finally agreed: standard games would be one yuan and fifty cents per person, RPGs three yuan per hour, since RPG cartridges could only be played solo, so the price was doubled.
Whether business would be good remained to be seen.
They’d only know after opening the game room.
Outside the inn, in the alley, a small round table had already been set, loaded with three or four dishes.
Getting off the motorcycle, Lao Zhu shouted across the way, “Are Lao Sun and Lao Yao here yet?”
The proprietress’s voice came closer, “They’re here!” She was wearing an apron and brought out a plate of kung pao chicken.
As she set it down, a bald man dashed out, beaming at Wang Qiang and joking, “Boss Wang, we meet again?”
He was followed by Lao Sun, still smoking, and Zhu Xiaofeng, yawning.
“What boss? Yao, don’t tease me,” Wang Qiang replied cheerfully, then greeted, “Sun, Xiaofeng.”
“Hey, Wang.”
“...Uncle.”
“Take a seat, I’ll go cook two more dishes,” said the proprietress, hurrying back inside.
They gathered around the small round table.
Boss Yao chuckled, “I wasn’t teasing you. The game room is opening, and you’re the major shareholder. If you’re not Boss Wang, who is?” He was quite trendy, knowing about major and minor shareholders.
Zhu Xiaofeng chimed in, “So I’m the junior boss.”
“Get out of here, when did you get promoted?” Lao Zhu waved him off. “Adults are talking, kids shouldn’t butt in.”
Zhu Xiaofeng: “...” He thought, Wang Qiang was about his age, so why single him out? But then he reconsidered—at the same age, Wang Qiang could be buddies with his dad and casually produce ten thousand yuan worth of consoles and games, so he really was ahead. He couldn’t help but feel a bit respectful.
After a brief exchange, Wang Qiang joined the conversation.
Especially Boss Yao, who was a talker—ranging from national affairs to the shopkeeper next door being caught in bed with someone by his wife. The atmosphere quickly livened up.
Suddenly, Boss Yao turned to Wang Qiang, “Wang, after dinner, I’d like to discuss something with you.”
“What’s it about? You can tell me now,” Wang Qiang said.
Boss Yao was just about to speak when the proprietress came out carrying stir-fried mushrooms and greens. “Lao Zhu, hurry inside and bring out the beer. Dinner’s ready.”
“Alright, I’m on it.”
...
As they ate, the conversation continued about the game room.
“Wang’s invested a lot. Xiaofeng, you have to be careful when you help watch the store.”
“When I first met Wang, he was dressed in rags. I never imagined he was so well-off, partnering with you, Lao Zhu, to open a game room.”
“That’s not fair, Yao. Let me tell you, Wang’s got a sharp mind. If I gave you twenty game consoles, would you have thought of opening a game room?”
Boss Yao took a gulp of beer and laughed, “I’d definitely try to sell them all. Who’d think of opening a game room?” Then, a bit puzzled, he asked, “Wang, what line are you in? How are you so rich at your age? Is your family wealthy? You don’t look it—first time I met you, your clothes were patched. Are you hustling on the streets?”
Boss Yao was a bit suspicious that Wang Qiang’s money wasn’t entirely clean, though he meant no harm. He was just looking out for his old friend Lao Zhu, worried Wang Qiang might drag Lao Zhu and his wife into trouble.
The proprietress said nothing.
But Lao Zhu didn’t like it, and retorted, “Anyone with a name in this neighborhood, you and I know them. Have you ever heard of Wang? I have to say, Wang’s really clever. He earns money with skill.”
Boss Yao smiled awkwardly, “I was just asking. No need to overthink.”
“As for how Wang makes a living, I don’t know. But I do know he’s got real ability,” the proprietress spoke up, pointing inside the inn. “Yao and I run the inn, and on a good day we make maybe two hundred yuan, tops. You know that, right?”
Boss Yao and Lao Sun both nodded.
“Lately, we’ve been making over three hundred yuan a day, and even on a slow day, two hundred forty or fifty. Do you know why?” she asked.
Boss Yao shook his head.
Lao Zhu couldn’t wait, “Wang suggested we provide meals to the guests. It’s more work, but the money is real. Yao, would you ever have thought of this way to make money running an inn?”
“Huh?”
“There’s really such a thing?”
“Tell us more.”
Lao Sun, Zhu Xiaofeng, and Boss Yao were all amazed and pressed for details.
The proprietress animatedly recounted the events, wisely omitting any mention of eavesdropping on Wang Qiang’s phone call, knowing it was improper. She only talked about what happened after she invited Wang Qiang to breakfast.
Wang Qiang waved his hand, smiling, “I just tossed out an idea. Didn’t expect it would really help Zhu and the missus.”
Zhu Xiaofeng chimed in, “Wow, Uncle’s got skills.” The “Uncle” was now spoken with genuine respect.
“Lao Zhu, that wasn’t nice, tricking me into thinking he was your cousin. No offense, but with your brains, could you really have such a smart cousin?”
His joke made everyone laugh.
Lao Zhu laughed and scolded, “You old rascal, are you calling me stupid?”
“No, not at all.” Boss Yao raised his glass to Wang Qiang. “Wang, sorry, I was out of line just now. Don’t take it to heart. Here’s a toast to apologize—you drink as you like.” He downed his glass.
Wang Qiang assured him it was fine, and drained his own beer, turning the glass upside down to show not a drop was left.
“Refreshing! Come on, let’s eat,” said Boss Yao.
The meal was lively and warm.
Wang Qiang was repeatedly urged to drink, and ended up flushed and a little tipsy.