The Imperial Residence—its very name conjured images of wealth and prestige. Even those who had never once stepped foot inside its gated walls were intimately familiar with its reputation. Known as a premium residential district and elite school zone, it stood as a symbol of both prosperity and ambition.
Following the address precisely, Yang Mo arrived at the development's sales department.
The interior was lavish, even extravagant. The very first sight to greet visitors was a grand crystal chandelier suspended from the high ceiling. It was still lit despite the daylight, its dazzling light spilling down onto the spotless marble floor, which reflected so clearly that one could almost see their own silhouette. Just this entrance alone screamed opulence and affluence.
Straight ahead stood a polished welcome desk, and deeper inside, a detailed architectural model of the residential complex. People were gathered around it, pointing and discussing animatedly. It seemed today was a busy day—an entire crowd had shown up, either to inquire or to buy.
Despite coming with a serious intent to purchase a home, Yang Mo had not dressed up for the occasion. He wore his usual casual attire: a simple sweatshirt and sweatpants. It was the typical outfit of a high school student—comfortable, modest, and far from flashy.
The contrast between his appearance and the luxurious surroundings was striking.
The sales office was bustling—not just with clients but with sharply dressed sales representatives working the floor. Their voices blended together in a symphony of transactions, inquiries, and introductions. The entire space buzzed with life.
Before Yang Mo had even crossed the lobby fully, he caught the tail end of a disgruntled voice nearby.
"Hah, the advertising sure worked, but the people showing up? All over the place. I've dealt with several groups already today—every single one just asking about prices with no real intent to buy. Complete waste of time. Talking my mouth dry for what? Look, now here comes another one... Oh, wow. Does this one even go to school?"
The disdain in the voice was thinly veiled at best, laced with sarcasm and a touch of scorn. It wasn't hard to figure out who the comment was aimed at.
Yang Mo turned toward the speaker. A young man, clearly one of the sales representatives, stood just a few meters away, squinting judgmentally in his direction. Beside him stood a young woman, probably fresh out of college, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. She looked to be around Yang Mo's age, maybe a bit older.
Noticing Yang Mo's gaze, the young woman hesitated before asking softly, "Brother Xiao… I don't really see anything wrong with him. Maybe he really is here to buy a house?"
The man—Xiao—let out a snort of derision. He reached up, brushing a hand across his cropped hair as he scoffed.
"You're too green. Just graduated, right? Of course you can't spot the signs. Let me teach you the basics, little Snowy."
He raised his voice, as if eager for an audience.
"First rule: people rely on clothes, horses rely on saddles. Just look at his outfit. Basic, ordinary, cheap. Definitely not someone who can afford this level of housing."
"Second: serious buyers always come with someone—family, partners, someone who matters. Anyone wandering around solo like that is just curious. They never buy."
"And third—see the flyer in his hand? That's our promotional leaflet. All crumpled and folded. He clearly grabbed it just to kill time."
He scoffed again and finished, "Let's be honest, even if he wanted to buy something, it'd only be one of the discounted units, and those were snatched up long ago."
He spoke as if Yang Mo couldn't hear a word—or worse, as if he simply didn't matter.
A few nearby salespeople chuckled in agreement. One leaned in and said, "Xiao's right, Snowy. You've gotta learn this stuff."
"Exactly. It's not worth the effort. He's clearly not a serious buyer."
"I'm not wasting my time. The last customer just left, and I'm parched."
They all added their thoughts, nodding to one another, some even stepping away as Yang Mo approached. A few averted their eyes, but most simply ignored him altogether, as if he were invisible.
But the young woman—Snowy—lingered. She bit her lip, looking between Yang Mo and her colleagues. Finally, she gathered a bit of courage and took a step forward.
"Well… a visitor is still a visitor. Who's to say he won't buy? And even if he doesn't, isn't it part of our job to explain things clearly?" she murmured.
Just as she moved to approach Yang Mo, the same man—Xiao—reached out and grabbed her arm, halting her in her tracks.
Startled, she instinctively pulled back.
"I told you," he said firmly, "don't waste your time. Use that energy to take a break instead. It's better than talking to dead leads."
His expression was unshakably smug, as if he'd just saved her from some great mistake.
Snowy hesitated, then lowered her head, stepping back to her place in silence.
Yang Mo looked at the arrogant young man again, his expression unreadable. His eyes slowly swept over the man from head to toe. The sneer, the attitude, the judgment—it was all so familiar. Just another self-righteous gatekeeper, quick to dismiss, blind to what lay beneath the surface.
"Dog's eyes looking down on people…" he muttered inwardly."Self-righteous fools like this are everywhere."