Movie: Get Alpha Dog at the start

Chapter 1566 How can love be discounted?

When Qin Hao regained consciousness, he was lying on a metal bunk bed. The incandescent light bulb overhead was quite old, and the light was not very bright. The white paint on the walls was peeling and chipped, revealing the grayish-yellow cement underneath. Two desks with peeling paint were placed in the middle, with professional books and scattered manuscript papers piled on their surfaces. Four bunk beds were arranged on both sides, with different styles of bedding on the beds. The air was filled with a mixture of laundry detergent and smelly feet.

"By the way, Qin Hao, are you going to the New Year's Eve party tomorrow?"

The voice came from the upper bunk diagonally opposite. Qin Hao looked in the direction of the sound and saw a tall, thin guy with a few pimples scattered across his face, half-lying on the bed flipping through a novel. A memory automatically surfaced—Liu Yuan, a college classmate and roommate, they shared a dorm for four years. Their relationship wasn't exactly close, but it was harmonious enough. He had been pursuing Han Ling, the class beauty, for four whole years without success.

Qin Hao quickly sorted through the original owner's memories in his mind.

In 1991, the first semester of their senior year was coming to an end, and this was their last New Year's Eve party. According to the original owner's memory, the New Year's Eve party was one of the most important events at the school each year, and each department would prepare a performance.

"Go ahead, I'm counting on making some money tomorrow for the New Year." Qin Hao stretched and sat up from the bed.

The original owner was an orphan who relied on scholarships for tuition and on part-time jobs such as tutoring and distributing flyers to make ends meet.

No sooner had he finished speaking than the dormitory door was pushed open with a bang, and a short, chubby man with a round face dribbled in, still carrying the chill of the outside air.

"Qin Hao, if you have a way to make money, take some of Xiao Ran with you," Chen Qiming said, glancing at the boy reading a book on the lower bunk opposite him.

Xiao Ran sat on the edge of the bed, wearing an old cotton-padded jacket whose original color was no longer discernible, holding a book on marketing in his hands. Upon hearing this, his expression changed slightly, his lips moved, but in the end he said nothing. He simply turned a page of the book, but his gaze was clearly not focused on the words.

Qin Hao smiled and shook his head: "If one monk carries water to drink, three monks will have no water to drink. If everyone knew this method, how would I make money?"

Everyone in the dorm knew that Xiao Ran, like Qin Hao, was an orphan and lived a frugal life. They were rarely invited to any dorm activities that required money, such as going out for meals, karaoke, or movies. This wasn't deliberate exclusion, but rather an unspoken understanding—inviting them wouldn't be worthwhile as they couldn't afford it, and it would only make everyone else uncomfortable.

Liu Yuan and Chen Qiming were intrigued by Qin Hao's earnest words.

Chen Qiming joked, "You're making it sound so real. So, once you make some money, aren't you going to treat us guys to a meal?"

"Absolutely." Qin Hao said decisively, got out of bed, grabbed an old cotton-padded coat from the iron frame at the head of the bed, put it on, and went straight out the door.

The corridor was quiet; at this hour, most students were either eating in the cafeteria or reserving seats in the library to prepare for final exams. Qin Hao hurried down the stairs, and the moment he pushed open the dormitory door, the Beijing winter wind felt like a knife cutting into his face.

Although it hasn't snowed in Beijing yet, the temperature has already dropped below zero, and the biting northwest wind feels suffocating against your face. Qin Hao instinctively turned up the collar of his cotton-padded coat, hunched his neck, and quickened his pace toward the school gate.

The plane trees lining both sides of the street were bare, their branches trembling in the wind, with a few dry leaves occasionally being swept up by the wind and swirling on the road.

He arrived at the bus stop near the school gate and glanced at the vehicle information on the platform. He was going to Caoqiao Village, a village located in the southern suburbs of Beijing, one of the earliest areas in Beijing to start growing flowers. In the early 1990s, the flower market was just beginning, and most of the flower growers in Caoqiao Village grew flowers in greenhouses they built in their own homes. The scale was small, and they mainly relied on flower vendors to come and buy their flowers.

Qin Hao stood with his hands in his pockets, braving the cold wind, waiting for about ten minutes. Finally, an old bus approached from a distance, its body bobbing along the road, puffs of white smoke billowing from its exhaust pipe. Qin Hao boarded, bought a ticket for two cents, and found a window seat.

The bus swayed and rattled as it headed south, the scenery gradually changing from city buildings to suburban bungalows and farmland.

It took Qin Hao almost an hour to reach his destination. He got off at the makeshift bus stop by the roadside and looked around.

Caoqiao Village was more desolate than he had imagined. The village was small, with dozens of households scattered on both sides of the road. In the distance, he could see several rows of low greenhouses, which gleamed grayish-white under the hazy sky.

Qin Hao asked an old man at the village entrance.

The old man was squatting at his doorway, smoking a pipe. He was wearing an old black cotton-padded jacket, his face was deeply lined, and his hands were covered with frostbite cracks. He looked Qin Hao up and down for a while, his gaze lingering on Qin Hao's old cotton-padded jacket and student-like face for a few seconds, before exhaling a puff of smoke: "We do wholesale here, we don't sell retail."

"Sir, I don't buy retail, I'm a wholesaler," Qin Hao said casually.

The old man looked at him suspiciously: "You look so refined, like a college student. How come you're doing this kind of business?"

"Grandpa, what are you saying? Selling flowers is also earning money through your own labor, there's nothing shameful about it," Qin Hao said with a smile, revealing a set of white teeth.

Upon hearing this, the old man finally smiled and tapped his pipe on the sole of his shoe: "Young man, you have a point. Growing grain is growing grain, growing flowers is growing flowers, there's nothing shameful about it."

Then she lowered her voice and said, "The main problem was that the policies didn't allow it a few years ago. In our village, we could only grow flowers secretly. If we got caught, not only would all the flowers in our fields be uprooted, but we'd also be fined..."

In the early 1980s, growing and selling flowers was considered a "capitalist remnant" and was severely cracked down on. Only in the last two years have policies been gradually relaxed, but many veteran flower growers still have concerns and dare not grow flowers on a large scale.

"Come with me, we happen to grow roses at home. We don't grow many of these, they're mainly bought by foreigners." The old man stood up, tucked his pipe into his waistband, and led the way with his hands behind his back.

The two walked for about fifteen minutes, crossing several dirt roads, and finally arrived at the old man's house.

The courtyard is small, with three brick and tile houses, and behind the courtyard is a greenhouse built with plastic sheeting.

Qin Hao followed the old man into the greenhouse, where a wave of humid heat hit him, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. Sure enough, there was a small patch of roses inside, about three hundred plants, and they were growing quite well.

Qin Hao squatted down and carefully examined the quality of the flowers. The petals were thick, the color vibrant, and the stems upright; their quality was above average, more than enough to sell at the school. He stood up, dusted off his hands, and immediately began negotiating: "Sir, how much for these roses?"

The old man's eyes darted around, and his expression instantly switched to that of a businessman: "It depends on how many you want. There are three hundred here. If you buy them all, I'll give you five yuan a plant."

Qin Hao was both angry and amused; this price was practically ripping people off. He looked at the old man with a half-smile: "Sir, are you trying to rip me off like a Japanese person?" He paused, then added, "How about I settle with you in yen?"

The old man wasn't embarrassed when he was exposed. He chuckled, revealing a set of teeth stained yellow from tobacco: "Then how much do you want?"

"At most one yuan per plant."

"Go ahead, trying to cause trouble, huh? I don't even have enough to cover my costs." The old man glared, his voice rising eight octaves, his wrinkles crinkling together.

Qin Hao said seriously, his tone unhurried but with an undeniable certainty: "Sir, one yuan per plant is more than enough. If you take these flowers to the market, the flower vendors will only give you eighty cents at most. I dare say other flower vendors will never offer such a high price. Besides, I'm covering all three hundred plants; I'll sell them all to you without leaving a single one. How much trouble do you save? You don't have to take them to the market yourself, you don't have to haggle with the flower vendors, it's cash on delivery, so convenient."

The old man was somewhat swayed by his words, but he still wouldn't budge: "No, that's too little. It costs a lot of money to burn coal for this greenhouse. You need to add some more." He then took a deep drag on his pipe, and the smoke filled the greenhouse.

Qin Hao hesitated for a moment, then made a concession: "Then it'll be 1.2 yuan. If that doesn't work, I'll just have to try other stores."

After saying that, Qin Hao saw that the old man didn't say anything, so he turned to leave.

"Fine, fine, one dollar and two cents it is. I just happen to like you, kid." The old man finally relented and called out to Qin Hao as he was about to reach the door of the greenhouse.

Qin Hao turned around, a perfectly timed smile on his face. He pulled out a handful of loose bills from his pocket—ten-yuan, five-yuan, one-yuan, and fifty-cent notes—stuffed together in crumpled pieces. After counting for a while, he found a total of 386 yuan.

This was the money the original owner had saved up from a year of part-time work, originally intended to pay for the next semester's tuition. Qin Hao counted out 360 yuan and handed it to the old man. 300 roses, 1.2 yuan each, exactly 360 yuan.

"Sir, could you please add some less desirable flowers? You won't need them anyway," Qin Hao added as he took the flowers.

"Hey, you little rascal, why are you pushing your luck?" the old man scolded, but he still turned around and rummaged through the corner of the greenhouse, pulling out a bunch of flowers that weren't very presentable. There were lilies and chrysanthemums, the petals were a bit wilted, and the stems were crooked, but they could still be sold if you cleaned them up carefully. The old man picked out a few that were still decent, put them in a burlap sack, and stuffed them into Qin Hao's hands.

Qin Hao packed the flowers and the three hundred roses into a burlap sack, thanked the old man, and carried the sack toward the bus stop at the village entrance.

The bus swayed and rattled, carrying him back to school. By the time Qin Hao returned to his dormitory carrying the sack, it was already past six in the evening. The sky was completely dark, and the motion-activated lights in the corridor flickered on and off. When he opened the door, Liu Yuan and Chen Qiming were both there, and Xiao Ran was still sitting in the same spot reading a book, in almost the exact same posture as when he left in the afternoon.

"Qin Hao, is this the money-making business you were talking about?" Liu Yuan immediately surrounded them, curiously approaching the sack.

Qin Hao carefully untied the burlap sack, revealing clusters of fiery red roses inside. Under the dim yellow light of the dormitory, these roses appeared exceptionally vibrant, their petals still glistening with moisture from the greenhouse, making them almost unreal in their beauty.

Chen Qiming was greatly disappointed upon seeing this, and his expectant gaze instantly turned into disdain: "So, after all this time, you're saying that making money is just selling flowers?"

"Don't underestimate these flowers. They're only ten yuan each, and you'd be fighting to buy them," Qin Hao said as he carefully moved the roses to a corner and covered them with cardboard to prevent them from getting damaged.

Chen Qiming scoffed and rolled his eyes: "Ten yuan? Qin Hao, are you crazy for money? This piece of junk might not even sell for a yuan. Do you think the people at school are idiots? Ten yuan is enough to eat in the cafeteria for three days."

"Just because of what you said, don't even think about me selling it to you tomorrow for less than twenty yuan." Qin Hao looked at Chen Qiming with a half-smile.

"Tch, twenty yuan? I'd be crazy to buy such a worthless flower." Chen Qiming scoffed.

Liu Yuan, standing nearby, also felt that Qin Hao was being somewhat presumptuous. He leaned over to look at the roses; they were indeed quite beautiful, but ten yuan a bunch? He thought it was unrealistic. Liu Yuan's family was well-off, but even he would still feel the pinch spending ten yuan on a bunch of flowers.

Xiao Ran, who had been silently reading, unconsciously shook his head. His gaze lingered on the pile of roses for a moment, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he were mocking something. Ten yuan was enough for a week's worth of meals in the cafeteria. Was he really going to waste his time buying a flower? He'd be better off buying some braised pork to improve his diet.

Qin Hao didn't argue with them. After covering the flowers with cardboard, he went to the cafeteria for lunch.

The next day, early in the morning.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting bright patches of light on the concrete floor of the dormitory. Qin Hao, unusually, slept in late, not getting up until after eight o'clock. After washing up, he went to the cafeteria for breakfast. When he returned, Liu Yuan was already dressed impeccably, wearing a new jacket, his hair styled with mousse and slicked back, before running off to fawn over Han Ling.

Han Ling is the class beauty and the lead dancer of the school dance troupe. She is very pretty and has a great temperament. She is the kind of girl who makes boys turn their heads to look when she walks on campus.

Liu Yuan had been pursuing Han Ling since their freshman year of college, rain or shine, for four years straight. With graduation fast approaching and everyone going their separate ways, Liu Yuan naturally wanted to take advantage of this last New Year's Day in college to win her over.

Chen Qiming was also nowhere to be seen early in the morning, probably off to fawn over Sun Yumei. Sun Yumei, like Han Ling, was also in the school dance troupe and was quite pretty, but still a bit less so than Han Ling. The two were subtly vying for the lead dancer position.

Qin Hao had no time to concern himself with such sentimental matters. He first went to the small commodities market and spent a few yuan to buy some colored paper, ribbons, and plastic wrapping paper.

The market was bustling with activity, filled with stalls selling New Year's goods, creating a vibrant and festive atmosphere. Qin Hao strolled around the market, bought a roll of transparent tape and a pair of scissors, then slung his bag over his shoulder and returned to his dormitory.

Back in his dorm room, he closed the door and got to work. He trimmed the thorns and excess leaves from the roses, added a lily or chrysanthemum to each bunch, wrapped them in colored paper, tied them with ribbon, and then put them in transparent plastic wrap. A decent-looking bouquet was thus formed.

Qin Hao was busy until noon before he finished packing all the flowers. He took a nap at noon to recharge, and around 5 p.m., as dusk was beginning to fall, he carried a box of bouquets to the entrance of the auditorium.

The auditorium is one of the most impressive buildings on campus, with a sizable plaza in front of it, which is the main place for students to carry out activities.

Today is New Year's Day. Red lanterns are hung at the entrance of the auditorium, and there are festive decorations everywhere. The party starts at seven o'clock, but it's only five o'clock now, and students are already starting to walk over in twos and threes.

Qin Hao found a conspicuous spot, put the box down, and without making a sound, took out a square cardboard box he had prepared beforehand and wrote a sentence on it with a marker: "Red roses represent passionate love. If you want to know if he (she) loves you, all you need is a bouquet of red roses."

He placed the cardboard box in front of the trunk, then put his hands in his pockets and leaned against a pillar in the auditorium.

Soon, people noticed the stall. A couple walked over hand in hand, and the girl immediately spotted the beautifully wrapped bouquets. Her eyes lit up, and she tugged at the boy's sleeve.

"Boss, how much are these roses?" the boy asked.

"Ten yuan a bunch," Qin Hao said unhurriedly.

"Huh? Ten yuan is too expensive!" The boy's eyes widened, clearly taken aback by the price. In 1991, ten yuan was no small sum.

Qin Hao looked up at the boy, then at the girl beside him, and smiled slightly: "How can love be measured by money? Don't you think this beautiful girl beside you is worth ten yuan?"

"Hmph!" Upon hearing this, the girl immediately frowned, raised her chin slightly, and glanced at her boyfriend with an expression that said, "Whether you buy it or not is up to you."

The boy's expression changed. In the end, the weight of love prevailed over the consideration of money. He took out ten yuan from his pocket, slapped it on Qin Hao's hand, and said with a tragic determination, "Buy it, give me a bunch."

"Alright, I'll pick out the best bouquet for you. You two are sure to have a passionate and exciting love story." Qin Hao deftly picked out the best-looking bouquet from the box and handed it over with both hands.

The girl took the bouquet, lowered her head to smell it, and smiled brightly: "Boss, you're so sweet-talking, thank you."

"You're welcome, take care." Qin Hao smiled and watched the two leave.

After seeing off the first customer, perhaps ten yuan was indeed a bit expensive. There were quite a few onlookers, but not many actually bought anything.

A few girls came over, asked the price, shook their heads, and left; a few boys were pulled over by their girlfriends, glanced at the item, and then left with their girlfriends.

By six o'clock, all the lights in the auditorium were on, and warm yellow light shone through the windows, illuminating the entire auditorium. Couples began to arrive at the auditorium to attend the New Year's Eve party, and the number of people noticeably increased.

Most of the girls wore their best clothes and put on exquisite makeup, while the boys were also neatly dressed. The whole square was filled with a youthful and vibrant atmosphere.

"Wow, these roses are so pretty!" A girl stopped as she passed the stall, coaxing her boyfriend in a soft, sweet voice.

Upon hearing this, the boy waved his hand dismissively, adopting a "I'll take care of this little thing" attitude: "Do you like it? I'll buy it for you."

"Mmm." The girl nodded vigorously, her eyes sparkling.

"Boss, how much is a bunch?"

"Ten yuan."

"Can you make it cheaper?" the boy asked habitually, his tone implying negotiation.

Qin Hao put on a stern face: "Classmate, that's not right of you. You can't bargain over love."

The girl's face immediately fell, her bright smile vanishing in an instant. The boy, realizing the situation was bad, quickly pulled out his money, his movements as fast as if he were snapping up some scarce commodity: "Ten yuan it is." While paying, he secretly glared at Qin Hao, his eyes filled with a resentment deep enough to raise fish.

The other girls, seeing this, all turned to look at their boyfriends, their eyes conveying a clear message. One, two, three… the boys felt the pressure from their girlfriends, and for the sake of their own happiness, they could only grit their teeth and hand over the money, their faces bearing an expression of resignation.

People who were originally just watching saw that the bouquets on the stall were almost sold out, so they didn't care about the cost and quickly bought them, afraid that they would miss out if they were too late.

Little did they know, as soon as they left, Qin Hao leisurely took out several rows of bouquets from the box and arranged them. He had already divided the bouquets into several batches, taking out a batch only after each batch was sold out, creating the illusion of supply falling short of demand.

Just as Qin Hao was waiting for the next wave of suckers to come knocking, a familiar voice came from behind him.

"Qin Hao, you're actually selling flowers here?"

Qin Hao turned his head and saw Liu Yuan walking over with a girl. The girl was about 1.65 meters tall, with shoulder-length, smooth, jet-black hair and snow-white skin that shimmered softly under the light. She wore a beige wool coat and a light gray scarf, and walked with a graceful posture, her back straight and her steps light, giving her a very elegant air.

This is Han Ling. It must be said, she is indeed beautiful, and not in a vulgar way, but with a kind of purity and elegance that emanates from within, making you want to look at her more than once.

Qin Hao spread his hands, a helpless smile on his face: "What else can I do? If I can't sell hundreds of bouquets of flowers, I'll just cook them myself. I'm counting on this to turn my life around."

Liu Yuan glanced at the stall and was surprised to see that there were only a few bouquets left in the box: "So many and only this many left?" He remembered that there should have been several hundred bouquets yesterday, and they were almost sold out in just over an hour, which was really beyond his expectations.

How much do you sell a bunch for?

"Ten yuan."

Liu Yuan almost swore, raising his voice a notch: "Where are all these idiots... suckers for you to fleece?" He suddenly realized Han Ling was next to him halfway through his sentence, and swallowed the word "idiot" back, changing it to "sucker".

Qin Hao grinned mischievously, "I don't know either, but everyone's gone crazy trying to buy it."

Liu Yuan scratched his head and subconsciously looked at Han Ling, only to find that her gaze lingered on the roses for several seconds before she casually looked away.

"Hey, give me a bunch, give me a discount." Liu Yuan immediately turned to Qin Hao.

"It's not that I don't want to lower the price, it's just that this is a gift for someone I like. Everyone else buys it for ten yuan, so if you only pay five yuan, doesn't it seem like you're not being sincere enough? The price isn't important, what matters is the sentiment. How can you discount sentiment?" Qin Hao said seriously, his expression so sincere that no one could argue with him.

Liu Yuan was stunned. He opened his mouth to refute, but swallowed his words. Although he knew very well that Qin Hao was ripping him off, upon closer reflection, he actually felt that Qin Hao's words made some sense. If it were for himself, he would think even five yuan was too expensive, let alone ten. But this was for Han Ling, and a lower price would seem like a lack of consideration.

"No need, Liu Yuan, it's too expensive, let's go inside," Han Ling said gently.

Hearing her say that made Liu Yuan even more determined to buy it. What men fear most in these situations is a woman saying "no," because it often means "I really want it, but I'm too embarrassed to say it." Liu Yuan immediately pulled out ten yuan and slapped it into Qin Hao's hand, the movement swift and decisive, as if he were completing a sacred mission.

"Han Ling, take this." Liu Yuan took the bouquet from Qin Hao, turned around and handed it to Han Ling, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and nervousness.

Han Ling hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on Liu Yuan's face. Liu Yuan was looking at her expectantly, but she lowered her eyes, ultimately saying nothing and silently accepting the gift.

"Thank you."

Liu Yuan breathed a sigh of relief, a bright smile spreading across his face. He was full of energy, as if he'd been injected with adrenaline. He turned and gave Qin Hao a thumbs-up, then accompanied Han Ling into the auditorium.

Qin Hao watched their figures disappear at the entrance of the auditorium, his smile slowly fading, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes.

This Han Ling is not as innocent as she appears on the surface.

She clearly had no feelings for Liu Yuan. From freshman year to now, four years have passed, and she has never given Liu Yuan a clear answer. She neither rejects nor accepts him, just keeping him hanging on like this.

Four whole years! Don't say you couldn't find the right time, and don't say you couldn't bear to hurt Liu Yuan.

To put it bluntly, he's hypocritical, taking advantage of the benefits Liu Yuan brings while secretly getting involved with Xiao Ran. (End of Chapter)