I'm a Master in India

Ron and Kavia weren't exactly close; they had only had a few drinks together at Leopold Cafe.

But she had a cheerful personality and could generously tell you all kinds of jokes. This was very different from other Indian women, perhaps because she had studied abroad.

Her honey-colored eyes were dotted with golden flecks. Upon hearing Ron's invitation, she sized him up.

After a forensic-like examination, she still seemed a little uneasy.

“Little brother, is this your excuse? You also like my deep V-neck, don't you? It's also your weakness, yaar.”

“I can't honestly deny it, but it has nothing to do with your… assets. I'm really interested in that land.”

“If you have any such thoughts, I'll beat you up! Little brother.”

“Alright, my bus is right there. Let's pick a quiet spot. On the way back, you can tell me about that Lal guy. You can say it loudly, so I can help you vent that anger.”

“You're certainly persuasive.” Kavia tightened her collar.

“Let's go.”

Forty minutes later, the two were sitting in Kavia's fourth-floor walk-up apartment. The apartment was located on the edge of the Fort area, near the Flora Fountain. It was surprisingly close to where Ron lived, so he simply went up for a visit.

The space inside the apartment was small, with a folding bed, a rudimentary kitchen, and hundreds of noisy neighbors.

But the room had a great bathroom, large enough to fit a washing machine and dryer without feeling cramped. And there was a balcony, enclosed by an antique cast-iron railing, overlooking the wide, bustling square near the Flora Fountain.

“Want something to drink, tea or coffee?”

“Tea is fine.”

Ron looked around her room. Under the windowsill was a messy large table, covered with pens, notepads, and a tape recorder.

Soon Kavia came over with a cup of tea, having changed her clothes. She was now wearing a tank top and loose-fitting drawstring pants. She walked gracefully and quickly, her gaze firm, not trying to please anyone.

Ron admitted that Kavia in this state was beautiful, more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

“Why would you have that idea?” she asked.

“What?”

“That land, you want to do real estate development? Build apartments or shopping malls?”

“Do you have some misunderstanding about me? Do I look like a very rich person?”

“Then it makes even less sense.” Kavia sat cross-legged on the armchair. “Now, land deals in Mumbai revolve around real estate development. Many people think it will make big money, you know, the economy is likely to improve in the future.”

“That's right, since the licensing system was abolished last year, a large number of people have poured into all walks of life. But I'm not buying land for real estate, I want to try manufacturing.”

“Oh, that's a surprise. What do you want to do, I mean, which industry are you planning to enter?” Kavia was surprised. From the businessmen she had met, few were interested in manufacturing, which wasn't a quick way to make money.

“Probably cheap appliances, things like fans, radios, telephones… it all depends on which is easier to make money. In short, it's always good to plan ahead. Land in Mumbai will only become more expensive.”

“I thought you were going to get into high-tech, like televisions or air conditioners. Every Indian family now yearns for a television.”

“Don't be silly,” Ron said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I don't have the ability to make that stuff right now. Of course, I'll go for the simplest things first. Even if it doesn't work out, the loss won't be too great.”

“That's true. Even if you change your mind later and want to exit manufacturing, you might be able to make a fortune by selling the land a few years later.” She stretched her bare feet and changed to a comfortable position.

“So… what do you think?” Ron's gaze was unconsciously drawn to her saffron-colored nail polish, which dotted the soft toes, sometimes visible, sometimes hidden, playful and lively.

“I don't think much of it, little brother. You like women's feet?” She stared at Ron's eyes, as if she had discovered some secret.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to. But they are indeed very beautiful. People are always easily attracted to beautiful things…”

“Men are really perverts! Little brother, the way you just looked at my toes is the same way Lal looks at my deep V-neck! Women's toes are your weakness, na (right)?”

Ron directly raised his hands in surrender. There was no point in explaining this kind of thing, the more you explain, the more confusing it becomes.

“For the sake of my sincere inquiry, please, let's move on from this topic.”

“You have much less guts than Lal, but I hate his rudeness!” Kavia laughed, as if the scene just now was just a prank.

“But seriously, I think those people who are now engaged in real estate are either being foolish or have smoked too much marijuana, causing them to have hallucinations,” she criticized bluntly.

“You're not optimistic about Mumbai's development?” Ron asked.

“Of course I am, but not now. India is too poor, no one can afford a house. Do you know how much my monthly salary is? Less than four thousand rupees.

The apartment we're in right now costs at least 300,000 rupees! It's impossible to save that much money living in Mumbai, it's a vicious cycle, there's no way!”

Ron knew that Kavia was right, and this was even the most optimistic scenario. As a journalist, she was already considered a high-income earner in Mumbai, a true social elite.

There were plenty of ordinary people on the street with incomes of less than a thousand rupees. For them, not to mention buying a house, even renting a house was a problem.

“Looks like I don't have to worry about losses, because I'm not planning to do real estate,” Ron shrugged optimistically.

“Speaking of that land…” She got up and walked to the messy large table, starting to rummage through it.

Soon, several newspapers and notepads filled with writing were picked out.

“The textile factory owner is called Sharma. His factory officially declared bankruptcy in June. It's just that due to debt and worker issues, the procedures have been stalled.

There are rumors that he owes the bank tens of millions of rupees, and the workers are not planning to let him go because he is in arrears with several months of wages. Now the gangsters have also set their sights on that land, so he disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Ron sighed inwardly. He didn't like things outside of his control.

“To be precise, he's hiding. You know, these troubles are not easy to deal with. Indians can be very crazy when they go crazy, those angry workers will drag him out into the streets to parade him.”

That was true. Since experiencing a taxi accident firsthand, Ron was deeply convinced of this.

“But there is also news that he is privately looking for buyers. The root of the problem is money. Only by selling the land can he have room to maneuver. The equipment in the textile factory has long been sold out, now only the land remains.”

“Can you contact him?” Ron looked at her hopefully.

“You really have a lot of expectations of me,” Kavia muttered.

“I know, but apart from you, I don't know anyone else who can give me accurate information.”

“I'm helping you inquire, but I'm just an intern reporter, an intern reporter who needs a deep V-neck to get interview opportunities, it won't be that fast.”

“I didn't mean to rush you, just let me know when you have news.”

“No problem, but buying land requires a lot of money. Little brother, just looking at the numbers makes me breathless.”

“I'll think of a way. You know, I recently hosted a tour group and may have made a small fortune.”

Speaking of this, Ron couldn't wait to go back and do the math. Smith's students were flying to Goa tomorrow morning, and his hosting work was complete.

Now it was time to take stock of the little treasury.

PS: It will be released at dawn on Wednesday, the manuscript has been prepared (speaking loudly!).