He looked at Wang Chuan and said, "Mr. Wang, regarding Mr. Yan’s previous plastic surgeries, let’s use the fee from his most expensive one as the standard..."
Sun Xinping held up two fingers and declared magnanimously, "We at Sunshine Film and Television are willing to pay double that price."
"That price should be enough to match the degree of difficulty, right?"
Wang Chuan didn’t get prematurely excited. Instead, he tactfully reminded him, "Mr. Sun, you might not be aware, but the price for a plastic surgery performed by Mr. Yan has long since surpassed mine, and by a significant margin."
This gave Sun Xinping a very bad feeling.
He leaned forward, closer to Wang Chuan, and asked, "So... what’s the highest it’s reached now?"
Wang Chuan held up five fingers and waved his hand gently. "It’s already past this," he said. "We’re in the seven-figure range."
Sun Xinping wanted to slap himself a few times. Why did he have to make such a bold promise? Now he’d been put on the spot.
Of course, Sunshine Film and Television could afford to pay a few times that amount; he could even pay for it out of his own pocket.
It was just a question of whether it was worth it.
After all, no one’s money grows on trees.
Wang Chuan and Yan Feifan exchanged a look, and Wang Chuan took the initiative to say, "Mr. Sun, although this surgery for Shao Jun is very difficult, the amount of actual surgical work is small. How about this? We’ll give you a price."
"Three million. What do you think?"
Sun Xinping slapped the armrest of his chair and announced loudly, "I said double, and double it is! I can’t go back on my word!"
"One price: six million! It’s settled!"
The men looked at each other and smiled.
After that, Sun Xinping had to go entertain the guests outside, and Wang Chuan also went out to network with the celebrities.
Yan Feifan, however, stayed in the reception room to examine Shao Jun and discuss his thoughts and opinions.
Over half an hour later, Yan Feifan finally left the small building.
He had just stepped into the courtyard when Zhao Xiaoting, looking lovely in an off-the-shoulder cocktail dress, came trotting over.
"Hee hee, Mr. Yan, we meet again."
Seeing her, Yan Feifan felt a surge of delight and quickly handed her the small bag he was holding.
"Perfect. Do me a favor."
"Mr. Yan, what’s this?"
Zhao Xiaoting took the small bag, opened it, and pulled out a white cotton T-shirt.
Yan Feifan explained, "My neighbor’s little sister found out I was coming to this party and begged me to get a few celebrity autographs for her."
"I don’t know any of them. You can help me with this."
Seeing that Zhao Xiaoting was about to refuse, Yan Feifan put her on the spot, "Zhao Xiaoting, didn’t you say we were friends?"
"If you won’t even help with a small thing like this, what kind of friend are you?"
Zhao Xiaoting’s face fell, and she said sullenly, "I’ll help, alright? I’ll help you. Happy now?"
Just then, a harsh shout from nearby reached Yan Feifan’s ears.
"You’re a plastic surgeon?"
"Hawking your services all the way out here? Get the hell out..."