The Price of a Cheap House

When they were gone, I called my mother. I told her everything.

The line went quiet for a moment.

"Annie. Stop. Stop helping people who don't want help. Come back to the city. Help me run the firm."

I held the phone tight.

"Mom, I sourced everything from your factory at cost for these people. I gave them the design for free. I caused you losses. You aren't angry?

"You and your father are the same kind of person. You give until your hands hurt. Cost-only is fine. Whatever makes you happy. I just didn't think it would land you in something like this.

"Look, after the refund, any soft furnishings that are still usable—send them to me. I know a few resale dealers. We won't have to absorb the entire loss."

I had been bracing for an 'I told you so.' What I got instead felt like a tired hand on my shoulder.

The next morning, I drove out with my crew, going house to house according to the sign-in list, dismantling everything.

Every layout I had carefully designed was torn down under my own direction.

Some villagers had hidden the more expensive soft furnishings. Fortunately, the signed inventory list I had prevented bigger losses.

On the way out, they spat at me.

"Cheap! Crystal would never do this. She'd let the sofa go!"

"Look at her. Came here just for money. Now she can't squeeze anything out of us, she's even taking the washing machine!"

I listened to the insults and found them almost laughable.

Those furnishings were part of my renovation package. I hadn't even charged depreciation. And they still wanted everything.

Crystal showed up that afternoon, holding blueprints, chin lifted.

"You can draw? So can I. I didn't go to college for nothing."

She glanced at me with disdain.

"Such simple layout changes, and you still dare say you didn't charge?"

I had already looked into her background the night before.

She majored in Business English at an ordinary college, completely unrelated to design.

I honestly didn't know where she got the confidence.

I gave a faint smile.

"I'm curious. Plumbing, electrical, tiling, carpentry, painting… materials alone cost more than twenty thousand. What kind of cheap materials are you using?"

My mother had been in this industry for decades. Even she had never heard of materials that cheap, let alone branded ones.

Crystal's expression changed instantly. She lifted her chin.

"What? Can't make that kind of money yourself, so now you're slandering me?"

She pulled out her phone and swiped through several photos.

"Look at this. My classmate's house. What you see is what you get. Tell me—where's the problem?

"All big brands. Full renovation, hard and soft finishes, twenty thousand. They've lived there for over half a year."

The villagers flared up instantly, like a match to gasoline.

They turned on me, glaring, cursing, saying I was just jealous of Crystal.

I let it go. You can't reason with people determined not to listen.

A few days later, just as I was about to shut down the studio, a well-dressed man came in.

He looked me over and handed me a business card.

"Ms. Lane, hello. I'm Ethan Howell from Brookfield Academy. We're opening a branch campus here and would like to hire you to handle the design and renovation."

I was surprised.

Word had already spread across the county. Why would he still come to me?

He seemed to read my thoughts.

"I'm a friend of your mother. She recommended you after hearing about our project."

"Your mother's company has an excellent reputation in the industry. If you're her daughter, I trust you."

So it was my mother.

I hesitated.

"I've only worked on residential spaces before… projects around a hundred square meters."

He smiled.

"It's a small private school. We have our own construction team. We just need you to handle layout, circulation, and spatial planning.

"If the collaboration goes well, we'll also assign your firm the furnishing phase.

"Money isn't the issue. We care about practicality and safety.

"Five hundred thousand upfront."

My phone buzzed.

[Annie, the studio is your dream. If you don't want to give it up, don't. I'll support you. I'll arrange a design team. Just go for it.]

I steadied myself and looked at him.

"Alright. I'll take it."

Just as we were about to sign, the studio door slammed open.

Crystal rushed in, out of breath, snatched the contract, and shouted:

"Five hundred thousand?! Annie Lane, your appetite just keeps growing!"

Then she turned to Ethan with a flattering smile.

"Mr. Ethan, right? She's a fraud. Charging you five hundred thousand?

"Come to me. I'll do it for two hundred."