"You're saying you just took photos of me buying a large amount of takeout and plan to post them online?" Jiang Yan asked casually while flipping through his press credentials. Simultaneously, she quickly logged into the national journalist database on her phone.
She swiftly entered his name and press ID number.
Perfect.
No records found.
The anti-counterfeit markings on the credentials also looked rather crude.
"Yes, but if Miss Jiang could..." The man trailed off, the greed in his eyes so blatant he didn't even bother hiding it.
Jiang Yan sneered inwardly but maintained a neutral expression as she asked bluntly, "How much?"
The curly-haired man's eyes lit up. With a sly grin, he raised his index finger.
Jiang Yan: "A thousand?"
The man chuckled maliciously. "Miss Jiang, no. With your status and position, a thousand would be rather... unimpressive."
"Ten thousand?!" Jiang Yan feigned shock for a second.
Seeing this, the curly-haired man's heart leaped with joy.
Just as he thought—like all those black material internet celebrities he'd stalked and blackmailed before, she couldn't handle the pressure.
Rumors said Jiang Yan was worth billions. Asking for a mere million would probably be pocket change to her.
But for now, he'd settle for getting a hundred thousand first.
After all, he'd kept copies of the photos. Once he latched onto this money tree, the cash would keep flowing.
With this in mind, the man steeled himself and made his outrageous demand: "A hundred thousand!"
Jiang Yan thought to herself: This guy dares to demand a hundred thousand for some fabricated photos? Does he think I'm stupid or what?
Sure, she had money, but it didn't grow on trees!
The worst part was dealing with a low-level scammer who knew nothing about the law and had zero moral boundaries.
"What?! A hundred thousand?! Are you sure that's the price for your sneaky photos?" Jiang Yan raised her voice deliberately.
Suppressing his excitement, the man nodded solemnly, his expression unbearably smug. "Yes!"
He was about to add that he only accepted cash when hurried footsteps approached from nearby.
Turning his head, he saw the neighborhood security captain leading two police officers and several guards running toward them.
"Freeze!!"
"Freeze!!"
The curly-haired man froze for a split second before spinning around to flee—only for Jiang Yan to sweep her leg under his feet.
"Thud!"
Unable to dodge in time, the man face-planted hard and was swiftly subdued by the arriving officers and guards.
The on-site statement was completed quickly, and the fake journalist attempting extortion was promptly taken away by the police.
Jiang Yan's home surveillance cameras had audio recording capabilities, so all evidence was preserved.
With a fake press pass and an extortion attempt exceeding ten thousand, he was looking at a solid decade of prison labor!
Though she'd dealt with another scumbag, Jiang Yan felt no satisfaction.
This guy had gone as far as renting the neighboring apartment just to stalk and approach her.
What about others with ill intentions?
Clearly, selling her current place and finding a new one couldn't wait any longer.
Jiang Yan locked the door and went inside.
After sitting on the sofa and pondering for a while, she dug out the contact for the real estate agency that had helped her mother handle properties before and called the owner directly.
The agency owner's name was Du Ziteng. Though the name sounded comical, he was extremely reliable in his work.
Before he started the real estate agency, Song Deming had worked at Jiang Yan's mother's company for a long time and served as the head of the distribution department. His work performance and character were both excellent.
After her mother sold the company, he didn't stay with the new owners but instead took his team of delivery staff and switched careers to become a real estate agent.
In a way, he was someone Jiang Yan could relatively trust.
"Boss Jiang!" Du Ziteng was naturally overjoyed to receive Jiang Yan's call.
Jiang Yan chuckled helplessly. "Don't call me 'boss'—my head's already swollen enough."
Du Ziteng immediately caught on. "Ah, right—Sis Yan, my condolences. By the way, how can I help you? Hold on, let me step back into my office for better privacy."
Jiang Yan got straight to the point, briefly explaining her need to sell and buy properties, as well as find a warehouse.
For the new home, her requirements were simple: the neighborhood shouldn't be too large, ideally with only two or three buildings.
After all, when the heavy rains and other disasters hit, larger communities would mean more neighborly conflicts.
Additionally, the neighborhood should be far from the city center but preferably near shopping malls, supermarkets, hospitals, and other amenities. She also ruled out properties from small developers.
Generally speaking, properties built by larger developers were of better quality.
To put it bluntly, the foundations would be more stable.
The ideal floor would be above the 30th, and she only wanted the top floor.
Though top-floor units usually had issues with insulation and waterproofing, she planned to renovate anyway, so it wasn't a major concern.
As for the warehouse, her requirements were ample space, no surveillance, strong security, and a location far from the city center.
But it would be best if it were near a highway or major transportation hub.
For both the high-rise and the warehouse, she preferred properties that were move-in or rent-ready, even if it meant paying extra.
This was also one reason she hadn't considered the hillside villa area where Song Deming lived.
That area was actually one of the few elevated zones in Anming City that withstood the torrential rains during the apocalypse.
But aside from the psychological scars it held for her, the remaining residents there were long-established families.
Buying in would be practically impossible.
Moreover, after the rains came floods, and living on a hillside posed risks like landslides and mudflows.
Once Jiang Yan laid out her requirements, the options for both the high-rise and the warehouse narrowed significantly, becoming much more precise.
Though Du Ziteng was the boss, he still handled business personally.
After listening, he already had a rough idea. "Sis Yan, I can list the property you're selling as soon as we complete the paperwork. As for the high-rise and warehouse, I've got a few options on hand. Whenever you're free, I'll personally take you to see them."
Without hesitation, Jiang Yan replied, "Great. Send me the addresses—I'll go now."
Du Ziteng was taken aback. "Huh? Right now? Sis Yan, don't you need to rest and adjust to the time difference?"
Jiang Yan's rushed return after her mother's sudden death had been covered by media outlets big and small in Anming City.
In this age of social media, she was already somewhat of a local celebrity and influencer.
Privacy was practically nonexistent for her.
The police department had sealed off the information about her being locked in the basement that morning and the deaths of Song Deming and Zhang Kai.
Otherwise, forget about going out to view apartments or buy supplies—the pointing fingers and gossip behind her back would have been enough to drown her.
Jiang Yan took a bottle of black coffee from the fridge and said, "I'm fine. Just send me the address."
"Got it, Sis Yan. Right away." Hearing this, Du Ziteng didn't press further.
Having spent so many years navigating the business world, he knew where to draw the line and didn't pry into Jiang Yan's affairs.