Chapter Twenty-Seven: Creativity Is Wealth

When it came to signing the contract, Zhao Fan was anything but muddled, and naturally, Chu Dong wasn’t one to be underestimated either. The two of them went back and forth, carefully negotiating each clause. Chu Dong seized on Zhao Fan’s eagerness to rid himself of the hot potato that was "Champs Elysees Residence," determined to secure the best possible terms for himself. Zhao Fan, for his part, was equally intent on squeezing as much profit as he could out of Chu Dong. Both men understood each other perfectly, each deploying their own tactics in the negotiation. In the end, Chu Dong succeeded in securing a week’s preparation time.

They exchanged contracts with the solemnity of diplomats trading national treaties, shaking hands afterward.

“It’s good to have money, isn’t it? Look at you, President Zhao—signing this contract means you can just sit back and wait for the profits to roll in. Meanwhile, I’ll have to work like a madman just to avoid going broke,” Chu Dong said with a laugh, offering Zhao Fan a bit of flattery.

“Oh, it’s young people like you who have the real drive and daring. If I were twenty years younger, I’d be just like you—never letting go of an opportunity once I got hold of it,” Zhao Fan replied, genuinely pleased. With Chu Dong on board, it was as if someone else had shouldered his heavy burden. At last, he could breathe a sigh of relief. “I’ll make the arrangements tonight—let’s have abalone at the Shangri-La.”

“President Zhao, I’m afraid I can’t enjoy that luxury just now. Look, I only have a week to prepare. Unless you’d consider giving me a bit more time?” Chu Dong had a mountain of tasks ahead of him and none of Zhao Fan’s leisure.

“Then let’s leave it for next time. I’ll be waiting for your good news—whenever you succeed, your brother Zhao will be ready to celebrate with you.” Zhao Fan gripped Chu Dong’s hand and shook it vigorously.

Leaving Champs Elysees Residence, Chu Dong drove back to the Feipeng Hotel, greeted Xiao Lan at the door, and went straight upstairs. As soon as he entered his room, he tossed his bag onto the sofa and sprawled out on the bed.

Chu Dong couldn’t help but feel a surge of relief. If Zhao Fan hadn’t been so desperate to offload Champs Elysees Residence, there was no way he could have landed the project with just a set of photocopies and half a million in cash—let alone have a say in the terms.

The real estate market might not be booming, but it certainly hadn’t reached the point where houses were unsellable. The real issue was that Champs Elysees Residence’s positioning was inaccurate; its selling points hadn’t been properly identified.

As a mid-rise building with a frame structure, the usable floor area was already low, and yet the units were all small, making the apartments seem even more cramped. They were marketing the place as “White-collar Apartments,” but how many white-collar workers would actually buy a place here? It wasn’t close to the business district, nor did the area have the pleasant scenery of a Suzhou garden. If anyone asked about the price—five or six thousand per square meter—they’d scoff and think even that was embarrassing.

So, how should such apartments be sold?

Chu Dong had his own ideas. He believed that homebuyers were always driven by specific needs, and identifying those was crucial. He’d investigated carefully: Champs Elysees Residence was located within the district for Number Eighty Middle School, a key school in Dalian. Many parents went to great lengths to get their children admitted there. In Dalian, both elementary and middle schools had strict catchment areas; if you weren’t a resident of the district, your child simply couldn’t attend. This created a group of parents who moved here solely for their children’s education—some even bought apartments not to live in, but purely to secure a spot in the school.

This, then, was the new angle for marketing Champs Elysees Residence.

Even before negotiating with Zhao Fan, Chu Dong had planned the new promotional materials: starting with the advantage of being in the district for a key middle school, he would run a series of newspaper articles about Number Eighty’s impressive history of university admissions, including soft features tracking the progress of students who went on to top universities. At the end of each article, there would be a note that a new residential development in this prime school district was now open for sale.

Secondly, the name “Champs Elysees Residence” needed to go—it sounded pretentious and carried no real meaning. Chu Dong intended to rename it “Moon Tower,” which, he felt, was much more fitting for a mid-rise building in a school district. After all, striving to get into a prestigious university was like reaching for the moon. To live in Moon Tower was a mark of distinction.

As for the opening price, Chu Dong scrapped the old rates and raised the base price to seven thousand per square meter—this was the discounted rate for only the lowest and highest floors; for each floor above the sixth, the price increased by one hundred per square meter, reaching eight thousand per square for anything above the sixth floor. This, he claimed, was the special opening price. The advertisements even stated that prices would increase by fifty yuan per square meter every ten days for the next two months.

That very night, Chu Dong shared his entire concept with the company’s design team. Under his direction, five or six professionals worked until well past midnight to finalize the materials and send them to the Evening News advertising department. He then immediately hired workers to change the signage. Time was tight, so Chu Dong himself wrote out the three characters for “Moon Tower,” which the workers cast in concrete overnight.

Early the next morning, Chu Dong arrived at Champs Elysees Residence. He briefed the sales staff on the new school district angle, made sure they were familiar with the new pricing, and then, satisfied, returned to Feipeng Hotel to catch up on his sleep.

The sales staff came to work a bit anxious, unsure what kind of “fire” the new boss would ignite—after all, it’s said that a new official always sets three fires. They were all on their best behavior, fearing they might become targets. But to their surprise, the new boss simply gave his instructions and then went home to sleep.

The young women on the sales team looked at one another, puzzled by what Chu Dong was up to. Apartments that couldn’t sell at fifty-five hundred per square meter suddenly had their prices raised to seven thousand? It was madness. But orders were orders; the boss’s word was law. If they couldn’t sell, so be it—but if they said the wrong thing, they’d be held responsible.

So, they went about their routine, sharing a newspaper as usual. Before long, someone spotted the new advertisement for Tianxiang Real Estate. Before she could call the others over to look, the sales office phone began to ring.

“Hello, this is the Moon Tower sales office. Yes, it’s part of the Number Eighty Middle School district. Of course, you can tour the apartments anytime. Very good, I’ll expect you this afternoon. May I have your name, please?...”

As if on cue, before the first call was finished, the other three phone lines began ringing in quick succession. All at once, the sales team found themselves busier than ever before.

Just after noon, prospective buyers started arriving in groups. The usual sales pitches were unnecessary; people simply asked about the square footage and confirmed that it was in the Number Eighty school district—no one bothered with questions about discounts or other details. Most just took a quick look around and returned to the sales desk. After the first deposit was paid, others quickly followed suit. Most of the visitors were decisive, putting down deposits without hesitation. That afternoon alone, more than fifty apartments were sold. Invoice after invoice was issued, and a thick stack of purchase contracts accumulated on the desk.