Vivienne finally met Gustavo at The Crystal Palace. He was a nationwide famous landowner.

  The man looked only about fifty, with a very kind face. As soon as he entered the hall of The Crystal Palace, he took the initiative to shake hands with Vivienne. It was hard for Vivienne to associate him with the murderer who had sent people to assassinate the clerk from the Land Bureau.

  Perhaps, one really shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

  Looking around and seeing no customers, Gustavo was slightly surprised: "Why is no one here?"

  "The streets are too chaotic; business is very difficult now." Vivienne gave a bitter smile. "But, Mr. Gustavo, what exactly did you come to see me for?"

  "To be honest, beautiful Ms. Vivienne, I want to ask for your help in selling my land, but I don't want outsiders to know."

  Before even sitting down at the dining table, the man was that direct.

  It was Vivienne's turn to be slightly surprised.

  As the waiter brought over wine and a fruit platter, Gustavo asked gently: "How much to book the whole place for the night? I’ll take it all for tonight."

  "No, no, no!" Vivienne firmly refused. "Mr. Gustavo, I appreciate your sincerity, but we are just starting to discuss a partnership. There is no need for you to give me extra favors. Please begin—the price and the method of sale."

  "Alright." Gustavo took a small sip of wine.

  "I plan to sell 3,000 hectares of land. Selling it all at once is fine, or splitting it into small plots is fine too. But you cannot say it is my land, because when I registered it with the government, I didn't use my name either."

  "But, of course, I have a nominee agreement. The land is definitely 100% mine."

  "Do you feel that land reform is certain to happen?" Vivienne asked in a low voice, even though there was actually no one around them.

  "Yes! There are too many starving people. If the land isn't redistributed, there will be riots. Does saying this make the land sale harder?"

  "It’s okay. It’s good to tell the truth; I’m not the buyer anyway."

  Vivienne refilled his glass. To be honest, she loathed most men, but this was the type she liked dealing with most: wealthy, yet not too calculating.

  It wasn't that the man truly lacked schemes; rather, since he had made up his mind to cooperate with Vivienne, he had already investigated her background inside and out.

  "Is the land near the city? How much do you plan to sell it for?"

  "Not very close. As for the location, it’s not convenient for me to say yet, but it’s all fertile farmland. I plan to sell it for $6,000 per hectare. That’s the minimum. Of course, you shouldn't quote this price to others; leave some room for them to bargain."

  "Hmm." Vivienne nodded, then shook her head.

  This price was only about 30% off the normal price for fertile land. Only those who didn't believe in the land reform would buy it. After all, under the government's land reform plan, the official buyout price was only $800 per hectare.

  "I think it’s a bit expensive. The current situation is constantly pushing toward land reform."

  Vivienne was telling the truth. However, she intended to let him think it over calmly.

  "I’ll go to the kitchen to tell them to hurry with the food. Please wait a moment."

  Gustavo took a sip of wine as a nod of permission, looking thoughtful.

  Vivienne entered the kitchen, handed the pistol from her pocket to her subordinate, and whispered instructions: "This is a real business talk. Put all weapons away. Don't let the guest feel repelled."

  Then she gave orders in a louder voice: "Mr. Gustavo probably hasn't eaten yet. It’s best to make a roasted chicken. Get the peanuts and grilled meat for the wine ready quickly."

  When she returned, Vivienne looked relaxed and spread her hands: "I really can't help it. A few workers didn't dare come for the night shift. With only you as a guest, the kitchen is already overwhelmed."

  Gustavo looked indifferent: "My farmland is also often short-handed."

  Sitting back down, Vivienne now intended to take control of the conversation. She had used the time in the kitchen to do a bit of thinking.

  "So, about the price—do you plan to lower it a bit?"

  "Lady!" Gustavo gave a bitter smile. "I originally planned for you to help me sell the land, but here you are bargaining with me instead."

  Vivienne fell silent, her face showing a hint of melancholy. After a long time, she finally spoke.

  "I believe you’ve checked my background. My family is on the other side and they are officials. I have a certain sensitivity to the country's political situation. Right now, although the forces supporting the President seem a bit weak, one day, land reform might be fully implemented. I believe your desire to sell the land is also based on this consideration."

  "To be honest, if you were selling last year, people would be fighting over fertile land at $6,000 a hectare. Now, it’s really not certain."

  "Further down the line, the situation will be hard to predict."

  Gustavo didn't say anything. Vivienne's words had touched his heart. His subordinates told him that in the capital, Vivienne was the most suitable person to help him sell land. It seemed they were right.

  She was elegant in speech and very insightful.

  She wasn't just beautiful.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "Then, how do you view today's riots and the poor people begging everywhere?" As Gustavo spoke, his gaze remained fixed outside the window. There was the dim street and many people sleeping on the roadside.

  In a few months, when winter arrived, many people might freeze to death.

  "Sigh! Chaos is not freedom; order is the greatest shelter." After Vivienne finished, she couldn't help but take a sip of wine.

  She rarely drank.

  "Lady!" Gustavo exclaimed, turning his head to stare at Vivienne as if he had discovered a new world. "Did you say those words? They sound like a great proverb."

  The roasted chicken arrived. The waiter had already split it into two portions for them.

  "I didn't say it!" Vivienne smiled while picking up a piece of chicken. " I just happened to see it in a book once. I don't even remember which book it was."

  The two of them enjoyed the roasted chicken together. It wasn't that the chicken was particularly special or delicious, but rather that they both needed time to think.

  After eating an entire chicken leg, Gustavo finally said: "I can agree to lower the floor price to $5,500 per hectare. But if it’s lower than that, you must consult me."

  "No problem." Vivienne also swallowed her food before answering politely.

  "Then, have you considered how much commission you plan to pay? I mean, we will have to invest personnel and a lot of energy to find customers and participate in negotiations."

  "How about 1%?" Gustavo’s offer was just a test.

  Vivienne smiled and shook her head. Selling one hectare would only give her $60, which was far worse than her smuggling business. Smuggling was illegal on the other side, but not here. After all, business was free here.

  "1.5%?"

  Actually, Gustavo had already guessed Vivienne would shake her head, but he was still just testing.

  "2%. Lady, that’s enough." Gustavo pretended to be pained. In reality, he would be willing to pay even a 5% commission as long as the land could be sold at $6,000 a hectare.

  "Let’s just make it 3%. I don't want more. It’s mainly because business at the dance hall isn't good right now, and I need some income to maintain the workers' livelihoods."

  When rich people discuss a partnership, they really shouldn't be too petty; "close enough" is fine. Gustavo understood this logic well.

  Especially with his famous status, if he cooperated with people in politics, those people would surely use their power to extort a huge sum of money from him. Only this lady—though she wasn't particularly wealthy—wouldn't extort him. Doing things by the rules was good.

  "Deal." After a long silence, Gustavo reached out his right hand.

  After signing the agency contract and prepaying a sum for operating expenses, Gustavo left immediately. He wasn't even willing to stay in the city for one night.

  When Vivienne went home, she specifically had the driver take a detour to the church. The church's glass windows showed signs of being smashed. It was pitch black inside, and the mortuary didn't show even a flicker of light.

  Because the cooperation with Gustavo went smoothly, not finding Fabian didn't make Vivienne feel particularly unhappy. She just told the driver to quickly leave the street where the sound of fighting could be heard in the distance.

  Fabian actually heard the sound of the car outside, but he had turned off the lights on purpose.

  At this time, Evangeline was helping Salazar with a physical cooling down. Salazar had a fever. Before the lights were turned off, Fabian had seen white steam rising from the wet towel on Salazar's forehead.

  "Why didn't you go back with the Mistress?" Evangeline asked quietly in the dark.

  "I... was worried about him..." Fabian answered hesitantly.

  He actually wanted to say, "I haven't fixed the door for you yet."

  "You are a truly good person, Fabian. You will be very happy." Evangeline's words sounded like a prayer.

  But to Fabian, it felt ironic.

  When Vivienne arrived home, she found Terrence had been sitting at the villa entrance. Seeing her return, the man immediately came forward. Perhaps not seeing his son, his face was full of disappointment again.

  "Where is Fabian?" His voice was filled with anxiety.

  "He saved someone and is hiding in the church."

  "The church?"

  Vivienne originally didn't want to mention the mortuary, but if she didn't say it, this man certainly wouldn't let it go.

  "Yes, it’s the church mortuary. It’s been abandoned for a long time. The nun is also inside treating that person's injuries. I’ll pick him up tomorrow."

  "Don't worry, he’s fine." Vivienne was really afraid this man would run out to find his son, so she added this extra sentence. If this man ran away, she would lose big.

  "Is that so?" Terrence muttered to himself. Seeing that Vivienne seemed a bit unhappy, he turned around dejectedly and headed back toward his room.

  At this time, Rocco had already changed into dirty, ragged clothes, and his face was smeared with charcoal. He squeezed into the protest crowd and found a few leaders.

  "Remember, there’s only one hour left. No napping. Run when you hear the whistle. Smash them when the lights go out, then keep running after you're done smashing."

  "We remembered it long ago."

  A man patted him on the shoulder.

  The night was deep. This night was destined for many major events to happen.