Lu Xiaobu listened to Smith's words, calmly looked at him: "Do you really like this bamboo sedan chair?"
"Yep, I really do!"
Smith said with utmost sincerity.
"Alright then, six hundred."
Lu Xiaobu gestured a number.
In his heart, there really wasn't much difference between six hundred and six million; what he wanted was an attitude.
"Deal!"
Smith was silent for a while, but at last, he nodded.
"Fine, take it with you!"
Lu Xiaobu appeared very satisfied.
The audience was terrified.
"Holy cow, it really happened!?"
"A bamboo sedan chair, six million!?"
"Oh my god!"
"Do you think, if I start learning this now, is it too late for me?!"
"You probably won't make it, but your son might!"
"Yeah! Let my son learn it! If he masters it, he won't have to worry about food and clothes for life!"
"..."
The audience excitedly discussed among themselves.
Those five Japanese felt like they had been slapped... no, slapped with six million hands across their faces!
It hurt so bad!
