Chapter Seven: I’m Buying, Not Renting
Chen Yichen had never seriously considered buying a home in Taipei.
It wasn't that he had never imagined it.
It was just that every time the thought surfaced, reality quickly forced it back down.
A decent two-bedroom apartment cost twenty or thirty million dollars in total.
The down payment alone would be several million.
Then there was a mortgage lasting twenty or thirty years.
Another fixed expense weighing on him every month.
For someone who used to make a little over NT$40,000 a month, buying a home wasn't a dream. It was something he could see but never reach.
So he had always told himself that renting was fine.
Live wherever the job was.
He could think about marriage when the time came.
There was no need to tie his entire life to a mortgage.
But now, living in a high-rise apartment that cost NT$220,000 a month and looking out over the entire city, he suddenly began to find the word “rent” a little irritating.
Not because NT$220,000 was expensive.
But because the place wasn't his.
He couldn't remodel the walls however he wanted.
He couldn't replace the furniture on a whim.
When the lease expired, if the owner wanted the place back, he would have to move.
He had been able to accept all that before.
Now he couldn't.
He had already begun to get used to one thing.
If he liked something, he simply owned it.
Since he could buy cars.
And watches.
Why did he still have to rent a house?
A little after ten in the morning.
Chen Yichen sat in the living room, browsing luxury-home listings on his tablet.
Back when he searched for homes, his filters were usually:
Rent under NT$20,000.
An elevator.
Cooking allowed.
Not too far from the MRT.
His filters were completely different now.
A total price of at least NT$100 million.
A high floor.
A large floor plan.
At least three parking spaces.
Good management.
A beautiful view.
Not too dated inside.
He went through the listings one by one.
NT$120 million.
NT$180 million.
NT$230 million.
Over NT$300 million.
By the time he reached the later listings, he slowly realized that what truly moved him wasn't the price.
It was the space.
Some homes were over one hundred ping.
The living rooms were as large as hotel lobbies.
The master bedrooms had walk-in closets.
The bathrooms offered views of the entire city.
Some even had private elevator lobbies.
When he had lived in a tiny studio apartment, it had never occurred to him that someone else's bathroom could be larger than his entire home.
Now he thought:
This was what a real rich person's home looked like.
After looking for nearly an hour, he picked three.
The first was NT$168 million.
The second was NT$230 million.
The third was NT$398 million.
He spent the longest looking through the photos of the third one.
Not because it was the most expensive.
But because it had five parking spaces.
He had been buying cars too quickly these past few days, and he had already started treating parking spaces as an important condition when buying a home.
Chen Yichen called the real estate agent directly.
The call connected.
“Hello, this is—”
“I saw that you have one listed at NT$398 million.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Which property are you referring to, sir?”
Chen Yichen gave him the name of the community.
The agent's tone immediately became more formal.
“Yes, that unit is still available.”
“Can I see it today?”
“I need to confirm the time with the owner first.”
“The sooner, the better.”
“May I ask if you're planning to live there or invest?”
“Live there.”
“Understood. May I ask roughly what your budget is? There are other floor plans in the same community—”
Chen Yichen cut him off.
“Don't show me the cheaper ones.”
The agent fell silent for half a second.
“Of course.”
“Just show me that one.”
“I'll arrange it right away.”
He hung up.
Chen Yichen chuckled to himself.
“Don't show me the cheaper ones.”
If his former self had heard someone say that, he probably would have thought the person was being obnoxious.
Now that he had said it himself, it didn't feel wrong at all.
Because he genuinely didn't want to see them.
If he received ten million dollars every day, why waste time comparing options he would never buy?
At eleven-thirty, the agent called back.
“Mr. Chen, you can see it at two this afternoon.”
“Okay.”
“I'll wait for you at the entrance to the community.”
Chen Yichen changed his clothes.
Before leaving, he glanced at his bank balance.
NT$39,719,682.
A little over thirty-nine million.
He was still a long way from NT$398 million.
If he had to pay the full amount in cash, he couldn't afford it right now.
But this time, he didn't close the page because of that.
For the first time, he began thinking about “future money.”
Ten million dollars a day.
One hundred million in ten days.
Three hundred million in a month.
In about forty days, he would be close to four hundred million.
If he spent nothing, he wouldn't even need two months.
In other words, the home in front of him that had once seemed to belong to another world was now only forty days away.
Forty days.
That number erased all sense of distance.
At two in the afternoon, Chen Yichen drove the car worth more than four million to the community.
He didn't take a supercar.
Not because he wanted to keep a low profile.
It was because he had already discovered something over the past few days.
Real estate agents handling truly expensive properties didn't care much about what you drove up in that day.
They looked at the way you spoke, your ability to pay, and whether you would actually close the deal.
The agent was already waiting at the entrance.
He was in his thirties and wore a well-fitted suit.
The moment he saw Chen Yichen, he walked over.
“Hello, Mr. Chen. My last name is Zhou.”
“Hi.”
“This way, please.”
The community's lobby was even more extravagant than the place Chen Yichen was currently renting.
A soaring ceiling.
Stone walls.
Large works of art.
There was even a dedicated reception area.
The security guard didn't loudly demand the visitor's information. He quietly confirmed it and let them through.
The elevator went up.
Agent Zhou began his introduction.
“This unit's registered area is close to 150 ping, with a little over 100 ping of actual interior space. All five flat parking spaces are on the same floor, and there's also a private storage room.”
Chen Yichen nodded.
“What about the management fee?”
“About NT$50,000 a month.”
In the past, hearing that the management fee was NT$50,000 would probably have made him think it was insane.
Now he felt nothing.
The elevator doors opened.
It wasn't a public hallway.
It opened directly into a private elevator lobby.
There was only this unit beyond the door.
Agent Zhou swiped his card.
The front door opened.
“Mr. Chen, please.”
Chen Yichen walked in.
His first impression was that it was big.
Not the kind of “looks big” that photos conveyed.
It was genuinely huge.
The living room had floor-to-ceiling windows spanning an entire wall.
There was no need to turn on the lights during the day.
The distant mountains and the city filled his view together.
The ceiling soared overhead.
There was another sitting area beside the sofa.
A ten-person dining table sat in the middle of the dining room, yet the space didn't feel crowded at all.
“The previous owner spent nearly NT$60 million on the interior design,” Agent Zhou said.
Chen Yichen looked toward the walls.
“Does that include the furniture?”
“Some of the furniture will stay.”
“I don't really like it.”
Agent Zhou froze.
“Which part?”
“Most of it.”
He said it in an even tone.
“If I buy it, I'll probably redo everything.”
Agent Zhou immediately nodded.
“Of course. Most buyers who come to see a property like this will redesign it according to their own needs.”
Chen Yichen continued farther inside.
The master bedroom.
The walk-in closet.
The bathroom.
The study.
The guest room.
Every space was more complete than the place he was renting now.
He stood in the master bathroom, looking at the view outside.
He suddenly thought of that tiny studio apartment from before.
When he showered, he could reach the door just by stretching out his hand.
The water pressure rose and fell unpredictably.
In winter, the water heater would occasionally shut off without warning.
Here, the view beside the bathtub alone was more than ten times wider than his entire old window.
“The owner is asking NT$398 million,” Agent Zhou said beside him.
“But there's still room to negotiate.”
“What would the bottom line be?”
“I'd have to negotiate with him, but if you're serious, Mr. Chen, I think we might have a chance around NT$370 million to NT$380 million.”
Chen Yichen didn't answer immediately.
He walked back to the living room.
He stood by the window.
If this had been before, he wouldn't even have been qualified to negotiate the price.
Now what he was really thinking was:
Was there any difference between NT$370 million and NT$390 million?
A difference of NT$20 million.
Two days of waiting.
That was all.
This method of converting money into time was shattering all his traditional ideas about prices.
Seeing that he wasn't speaking, Agent Zhou asked, “What do you think of the place, Mr. Chen?”
“Not bad.”
“If you like it, we can submit an offer of interest first.”
“Is the owner in a hurry to sell?”
“Not exactly, but it's been on the market for a while.”
“Then offer NT$370 million.”
Agent Zhou paused.
“You want to offer NT$370 million?”
“Yeah.”
“Should we submit the offer deposit today?”
“Sure.”
“And the offer deposit—”
“How much?”
“For a property at this price, we usually recommend at least NT$1 million.”
“Fine.”
Agent Zhou was noticeably more focused than before.
“Mr. Chen, are you considering a mortgage or cash?”
That question finally made Chen Yichen stop.
He had less than forty million right now.
He couldn't possibly buy the place outright in cash.
A mortgage?
With his current “unemployed” status, the bank would probably start by asking him a mountain of questions.
Even if he had a fixed daily deposit, there was no way to explain where it came from.
Thinking of that, he suddenly felt a little inconvenienced.
It wasn't that he didn't have money.
The money simply hadn't accumulated enough yet.
“I prefer cash,” he said.
Agent Zhou's expression changed.
“All cash?”
“Yes.”
“What about the payment schedule?”
Chen Yichen looked at him.
“Within a month and a half at the latest.”
“Full payment within a month and a half?”
“Yeah.”
Agent Zhou fell silent for half a second.
Clearly, he was recalculating the financial strength of the man in front of him.
A man not yet thirty.
Saying he wanted to buy a home worth more than three hundred million.
No mortgage.
Paying the entire amount in cash within forty-five days.
Without a certain level of confidence, no one could say something like that.
“Fine. I'll negotiate with the owner.”
“If he'll accept NT$370 million, I'll buy it.”
“Okay.”
“Don't drag it out.”
“I understand.”
After signing the offer, Chen Yichen transferred NT$1 million.
From walking into the home to submitting the offer, less than an hour had passed.
When he left the community, he suddenly felt strange.
He still couldn't afford the place.
At least not today.
But he wasn't anxious in the slightest.
Because he knew the money was already on its way.
It was a sense of security he had never experienced before.
For a normal person buying a home worth hundreds of millions, they would first need to accumulate assets, invest, take out loans, rely on company income, and make financial plans.
He didn't.
All he needed to do was wait.
A little after four, Chen Yichen drove to see the other two properties.
After ten minutes in the one priced at over NT$160 million, he lost interest.
Too small.
The NT$230 million one was pretty good too.
But it only had three parking spaces.
If his former self had heard that he refused to buy a luxury mansion worth NT$230 million because it “only had three parking spaces,” he probably would have thought the man was insane.
Now it seemed completely reasonable.
He already had two cars.
The third would be delivered in a few days.
The salesperson had also promised to notify him if a special allocation became available.
Five parking spaces were starting to feel like merely enough.
At seven that evening, Chen Yichen didn't call Zhang Jiahao.
He went out to eat alone.
As he sat beside the restaurant window, the agent called.
“Mr. Chen.”
“Yeah?”
“The owner just got back to me.”
“How much?”
“He didn't want to lower it by that much originally, but if the payment terms are really as you said—full cash and completed within forty-five days—he's willing to negotiate down to NT$375 million.”
Chen Yichen held his fork.
“A five-million difference?”
“Yes.”
Five million.
Half a day.
He didn't hesitate at all.
“Fine.”
The agent's voice immediately brightened.
“Are you sure, Mr. Chen?”
“I'm sure.”
“Then I'll prepare the formal offer right away.”
“Okay.”
“When would you be available to sign?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Understood.”
He hung up.
Chen Yichen continued eating.
A few seconds later, he suddenly realized what had happened.
He had just agreed to buy a house worth NT$375 million.
And his tone had been as calm as if he had agreed to pick up some clothes tomorrow.
He wasn't putting on an act.
It genuinely wasn't the overwhelming shock he had once imagined.
Because in his head, NT$375 million was no longer NT$375 million.
It was thirty-seven and a half days.
If he counted the money he already had, it was even less.
Money was no longer measured in amounts.
It was measured in time.
When he returned to his rented apartment that night, he felt for the first time that the place was a little too small.
He had only moved in a few days ago.
Over seventy ping.
NT$220,000 in monthly rent.
In the past, this would have been his dream home.
But after seeing a real luxury mansion of nearly 150 ping that afternoon, he looked around and actually began to feel that the living room wasn't big enough.
Chen Yichen stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He suddenly laughed.
“I'm screwed.”
He knew his standards were changing incredibly fast.
Not over years.
Not over months.
Over days.
His phone showed 11:56 p.m.
He opened the banking app.
Current balance:
NT$38,601,473.
Because of the offer deposit and various small expenses, it was a little lower than last night.
But in four more minutes,
it would gain another ten million dollars.
11:59 p.m.
Chen Yichen didn't sit there waiting.
He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.
Midnight.
His phone buzzed on the table.
He walked back and picked it up.
General Deposit: NT$10,000,000.
Latest balance:
NT$48,601,473.
A little over forty-eight million.
In about thirty-three more days,
he could pay for the house in full.
Chen Yichen stared at the balance for a while.
Then he opened his notes app.
He didn't record how much he had spent that day.
Instead, for the first time, he made a simple list.
House: NT$375,000,000.
Next car: Undecided.
Private jet: Check prices.
Yacht: Check prices.
He stopped there.
What he had once called a life plan was:
Save money.
Change jobs.
Buy a home.
Get married.
Retire.
Now everything had changed.
He no longer needed to plan “how to make money.”
He only needed to plan “what to turn the money into once it arrived.”
Chen Yichen put down his phone.
He looked out the window.
A remarkably clear feeling suddenly came over him.
His real life as a rich man had only just begun.
All those cars, watches, and restaurants before this.
They had only been practice.