Page (1/3)

"Lao Mu, the box of Lao Ganma you bought on credit last week, including the two loads of toilet paper this time, is equivalent to 3.87 million rials."

Zhang Jian slapped the calculator on the counter, tilted his head and gestured to the bearded old Iranian man at the door.

"Zhang, your price is too expensive. The Afghan shop next door..."

"Does the Afghan next door have a Lao Gan Ma?"

Lao Mu choked.

Zhang Jian turned the calculator over to show him and tapped his fingers on the counter.

"It's authentically produced in Guizhou. Shipping by sea is more expensive than goods. Go to the bazaar and ask if there is a second store."

Lao Mu sighed and honestly took out a few more bills.

"Zhang, I'm just complaining, forget it, let's get another box."

Zhang Jian bent down to reach the carton at the bottom of the shelf. His lower back hit the shelf and he bared his teeth and cursed.

The 20-square-meter store has shelves filled with all kinds of daily necessities shipped from China.

Instant noodles, hot pot base, power bank, LED light bulbs, nail clippers, and even a few pairs of pull-back shoes.

Zhang Jian has opened a store here for three years.

Coming to Tehran was purely accidental.

When I graduated from college, I followed my fellow villagers to engage in foreign trade. I traveled through Dubai, Istanbul, and finally moved to Tehran.

As a result, the fellow worked for half a year and ran away, but he stayed and did not leave.

The reason is simple.

There is a market for Chinese goods here, and the competition is not too fierce.

A 26-year-old Chinese guy opens a grocery store in the Middle East. It sounds magical, but his life is not bad.

After excluding rent and loan payments, I can still save more than two to three thousand US dollars every month.

"Zhang, have you heard?"

Lao Mu took the change, didn't leave in a hurry, and lowered his voice.

"America's aircraft carrier has arrived again. It is said that the Fifth Fleet has expanded."

"I heard about it."

"Aren't you afraid?"

Zhang Jian sorted the banknotes and stuffed them into the drawer.

"What are you afraid of? We have been fighting for several years. The thunder is loud and the rain is small."

"Didn't you have a fight with Xiao Yi some time ago? The Twelve-Day War didn't do anything to us."

"There are international regulations that prohibit demolition of civilian buildings."

"We, it's actually not that dangerous."

Lao Mu shook his head and turned back before going out with his things.

"Zhang, I advise you to think of a way out."

"This time is different, over there..."

Before he could finish his words, the remaining part was covered by the sound of the door slamming back.

Zhang Jian didn't pay much attention.

In this place in the Persian Gulf, there are rumors that "a war is about to begin" every day. If you hear it too often, it will sound like a cry of wolf.

Besides, the embassy has not issued an evacuation notice. If something happens, it will definitely notify you in advance.

He leaned back in his chair, picked up his phone and browsed the news for a while.

Domestic military bloggers have long been quarreling.

Some analysts say that the United States and Israel will take action, while others say that they will not. They all insist on their own opinions, just like a wet market.

Zhang Jian exited the APP.

After thinking about it, I sent a WeChat message to the domestic supplier.

"The next batch of goods will be shipped one week later, as shipping has been unstable recently."

Put down the phone.

He stood up and stretched, preparing to go to the back warehouse to take inventory.

The moment he turned around.

A sharp roar tore through the sky instantly!

What followed immediately was a continuous and intensive whistling sound, one after another.

Zhang Jian was stunned.

Page (1/3)