Chapter 75: Touring the West Lake

Johnson nodded. He’d take a look around tomorrow; if it suited him, he’d find himself a courtyard by West Lake—even a hundred million would suffice.

The next morning, he arrived at the sales office, where the manager greeted him warmly and led the group to view two villas entrusted by their owners for sale.

Whitewashed walls, built to follow the land’s contours, winding corridors, paths that led to hidden corners—none of the gaudy ostentation of wealth. Delicate bridges over flowing streams, refined and elegant.

“In those days, I remember a young homeowner once said after seeing our villas, ‘Mom, I’m worried I’ll get lost when I come home.’” The manager introduced as they walked. “This is exactly the effect Greentown seeks: to let you lose yourself in the courtyards of Jiangnan. The gardens seem unordered yet are ordered; you hit a wall, not knowing which way to go, then suddenly turn a corner and find your way back.”

“Look at this desk carved from stone—a sheet of rice paper lies quietly, as if waiting for its master to indulge in wine and brushwork. In the courtyard shaded by bamboo blinds, tea is set for friends to share…”

“On the low couch by the upstairs window, you can either sit knee to knee for a chat or play a game of chess. At the dressing table by the window, the lady of the house arranges her makeup and sticks flower petals to her face, and when she looks up, the four seasons of the garden are before her eyes.”

“Jiangnan—the landscape has settled for a thousand years. Amid misty rain and blue stone streets, scholars and poets on their thin horses carry heavy books, composing verses, singing songs, lingering by old stations and ancient scenery.”

“Simple, elegant walls and black-tiled roofs, empty-braced walls, Guanyin ridge or horse-head gables, the rhythm of different heights, enclosing the deep courtyards within…”

Looking at Johnson, the manager beamed. “Imagine, if you had a two-story house in Hangzhou—reading downstairs, brewing tea upstairs—the atmosphere of friends arriving in wind and rain…”

Johnson laughed heartily, patting the manager’s shoulder. “You’re quite eloquent.” He surveyed the details around him. The entrance had a large glass screen with sandwiched silk, gray-white architectural window grilles, and a glass box for the inner courtyard, all brimming with Jiangnan charm.

The first floor featured many floor-to-ceiling windows. When the doors and windows were closed, the natural environment became a painting in the main hall. When opened, the space merged completely with nature, the courtyard extending the interior’s scale.

Ink wash paintings and fine brushwork appeared frequently throughout the spaces, blending seamlessly with designer lighting, tables, and accessories.

Especially the decoration beside the staircase: rain in West Lake was commonplace. Vertical spaces woven by rain threads, dotted with ascending droplets. As if, in a moment, time stood still, giving spiritual life to the otherwise rigid transition.

Upstairs, the master bedroom was done in sophisticated shades of gray. From wallpaper, fabric, flooring to bathroom stone, the same tones in different materials created a layered effect and taste—low-key yet exuding refinement and luxury.

The design of the ink-patterned carpet and the color and form of decorative objects offered glimpses of Jiangnan’s scenery and Eastern temperament.

He liked the kitchen and dining room most—they were spacious, utilizing high ceilings for mezzanine levels, which enriched the activity room’s perspective.

Beside them was a tea room, its wooden parquet floor set into a proper scale, with a solid wood table for calligraphy, painting, and tea ceremonies, allowing for a quiet meditation on Eastern aesthetics.

The manager explained, “Each material in our space carries a specific meaning. For example, the large area of silver-gray stone is sourced from the canal beside our site, expressing the concept of flowing water. The living room’s carpet evokes the image of river water, paired with landscape paintings. The soft materials and artistic decorations create an approachable ambience.”

“The senior’s room is thoughtfully designed, separating active and quiet zones in the courtyard, providing more private space for rest. In the classical order’s ambience, modern notes sing with lively spirit—that’s the charm of Jiangnan.”

Johnson was quite satisfied after the tour; the details and layout were more profound than those at Jiujian Hall. The main advantage was being only a ten-minute drive from West Lake—perfect for a morning run back and forth.

He called the owner: over seven hundred square meters, final price ninety-six million six hundred and sixty-six thousand. The transfer was done directly; by afternoon, the fourth villa was in hand.

He had the property cleaned, then drove to the Mercedes showroom and picked out a G65. He’d long wanted a rugged jeep to drive around; the Rolls-Royce would stay at Jiujian Hall, here he’d use the G-Class.

The mechanical feel was indeed robust. The black body paired with silver rims looked clean, and the black wheels with red brake calipers gave it a sporty vibe.

With all four doors and the hood open, it resembled an armored vehicle, full of mechanical presence and masculine energy. Summer Tiger was smitten, eyes shining.

“Our car has a 6.0-liter V12 twin-turbo engine. You know, most mainstream off-road vehicles now use V6 engines, but the G65 has a V12, and it’s twin-turbo…”

“Look, the multifunction steering wheel is crafted from real wood and leather—feels great. The center console is lined with carbon fiber, very upscale, and the wide screen is full of technological flair…”

The sales lady was passionate. Johnson sat inside; the back seats were a blend of red and black leather, looking extremely sporty. The rear space was generous—three adults could sit comfortably.

The trunk opened sideways, not up and down like most cars. The space was bigger; with a small stool, two people could sit inside.

Seeing Summer Tiger practically drooling, Johnson drove off for four million, leaving the Rolls-Royce to Summer Dragon and taking the rugged jeep for himself.

Hmm, it really wasn’t that comfortable!

He got out halfway, returned to the Rolls-Royce, and let Summer Tiger have his fun.

That night, back at the hotel, he took out the roster and found a beautiful tour guide for tomorrow’s West Lake excursion. He picked one with a baby face, F-cup, a local Hangzhou girl—time to taste the charm of Jiangnan’s water-town maidens.

He called Song Qiao to arrange a meeting at the hotel at nine the next morning. Five thousand for a day tour; if things went well, twenty thousand for a night.

“Hello, I’m Qianqian. It’s an honor to serve you!”

At nine in the morning, he met the waiting girl in the hotel lobby, and Johnson’s eyes lit up. Big eyes, cute dimples when she smiled, and a pair of little tiger teeth.

She was short and plump, especially her chest—truly a baby face with a huge figure, giving a sense of soft fullness.

They got in the Rolls-Royce together. The girl was lively, rare to meet a handsome and wealthy man, and began to chatter excitedly.

“You’ve come at the perfect time. To tour West Lake, you must avoid the holiday peaks—otherwise, all you’ll see is people. Best to choose non-holidays; on weekends, on Broken Bridge, the crowds are so thick it feels like the bridge might break!”

“I once saw, at nine in the morning, ten travel groups gathered at Lingyin Temple—packed with people, firecrackers going off, the scene was just…”

Johnson laughed heartily. The girl was quite amusing, with a tiny cherry mouth and a nimble tongue—she seemed adept enough for good oral skills.