The moment Joel Xavier heard this, his heart began to pound frantically. "Mrs. Fenton, please, my client is here. If you keep holding up my payment, how am I supposed to do business?! You can't screw me over like this!"
"A client? I'd like to see just what kind of client would make a store manager like you resort to taking out loans!" Jacinta Hale said, following Joel Xavier all the way to the reception room.
Inside the reception room sat a single, gray-haired man. He held several pieces that looked like calligraphy scrolls and exuded a refined, scholarly aura, giving him the appearance of an artist or intellectual.
"Store Manager Xavier, have you made up your mind? This is the third time I've come. If you can't make a decision today, I won't be selling these pieces to you!" The old man spoke first, seizing the initiative. His tone was resolute; it was clear his patience had been worn thin by the previous disappointments.
