NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 9: Buying Cars
James comfortable life was about to begin, but he overlooked one detail: he hadn't thought about his own food and drink. The kitchen was empty, and the utensils were incomplete.
Therefore, he ended up having dinner with his employees. To put it bluntly, the boss was joining them for a meal.
He did not act distant with them at all. Using a mix of Chinese, English, and gestures, he chatted with them throughout the evening and learned a lot about them and the localities.
First, he realized he needed to relearn native English. Although he had a Level 4 English proficiency certificate, real-life communication was a different challenge entirely—he often could not understand what others were saying.
Except for Old John, because conversations with him were formal, like something out of a college textbook or a news report.
However, when talking with the younger employees, he encountered all kinds of abbreviations, slang, and internet jargon—just as if he were speaking Mandarin with trendy Chinese expressions. A single "Ní mā" in Mandarin could easily confuse a foreigner learning Chinese.
With Old John's help, James posted a recruitment ad through an online agency, offering a generous salary of $2,000 per week. Naturally, he had lofty expectations—he didn't want to hire a mediocre teacher.
He also added a few conditions: the candidate had to speak Chinese, live nearby for easier cultural exchange, and be a woman—he simply was not interested in collaborating closely with a man.
After breakfast the next morning, James initially planned to clean the house, but as he stood lazily by the empty swimming pool with a broom, gazing at the cloudless blue sky, his mind kept drifting to the idea of getting a convertible.
After all, they say you must drive a convertible in California.
Jessie, a female worker who had just returned from the city, acted as his driver. The reason he did not drive himself was simple—he didn't plan on returning empty-handed.
Naturally, Jessie, who agreed to drive, earned overtime pay and fuel reimbursement—a nice benefit for a simple task.
"Thank you, Jessie. It is quite inconvenient without taxis around here," James said as he fastened his seatbelt in the passenger seat.
"No problem. Public transportation and taxis are not well-developed in small cities, so most people drive themselves. Where do you want to go?" Jessie asked.
In slow but simple English, he replied, "I want to buy a car. San Francisco or Los Angeles—which one is closer?"
"They're about the same distance. It is roughly 250 kilometres along Interstate 5. But if you want to buy a car, LA is your best bet. It's a bigger city."
"Then let's go to LA."
The journey was long, but chatting made it enjoyable. Jessie, who was younger than James, shared that she had been working since graduating high school. Her boyfriend worked at a bar in the city.
She also mentioned that she was quite satisfied with her current job. Given her educational background, the salary was decent—about one-third higher than that of some immigrant workers—and James also provided insurance coverage.
Jessie gave Jamesa glimpse into local life. For example, the U.S. wasn't as ideal as many imagined. Wages for immigrants were generally low, especially in California, where there was a large Asian population.
Many immigrant workers earned less than $2,000 per month. For undocumented workers, things were even worse—some were paid as little as $5 an hour, despite the state's minimum wage being $10.
James listened intently but didn't dwell on it. With nearly ten million dollars in his account and diamonds worth over a hundred million in a bank safe, he hadn't come to the U.S. to struggle.
He was here to live a life of comfort and luxury—the hardships and discrimination faced by many immigrants didn't apply to him.
Jessie dropped him off in Beverly Hills, Los Angeles, a place known for being one of the most prestigious residential areas in the world.
It also boasted high-end commercial streets filled with wealthy individuals, celebrities, and luxury brands—perfect for someone like James, who had money to spend. After waving goodbye to Jessie, he began strolling along the upscale streets.
Before setting out, he had noted down the addresses and contact details of several dealerships from Edmunds, an online car marketplace.
His first stop was the Ferrari and Maserati sales centre in Beverly Hills. He had already informed Express Bank in advance, which arranged a paid secretary and scheduled an appointment for him.
High-end cars like these were often sold by reservation. However, there were always some wealthy individuals who would walk in and buy a car on a whim. James entered, gave his name, and was immediately welcomed by a saleswoman.
"Mr. James, we have a variety of Ferrari and Maserati models available," said the blonde saleswoman as she guided him around the showroom.
"I want a convertible," James said. Without waiting for a detailed introduction, he walked over to examine the 458 convertible and California models on display. He had initially planned to buy a 458, but after spotting a couple of them on the road earlier, he felt they were too common and lost interest.
In the end, he focused on the California model. James circled the car, sat in it to get a feel for it, and then said decisively, "I want to test drive it."
It's often said that a million dollars can transform a person's demeanour. In the past, when he only had a few thousand yuan, he wouldn't have been able to act so composed.
But now, he spoke with confidence and ease, and the saleswoman didn't hesitate at all.
After a couple of laps around the city with the top down, the saleswoman enthusiastically described the car's performance. The 4.3-liter V8 engine produced 490 horsepower, allowing it to accelerate from 0 to 100 km/h in just 3.8 seconds, with a top speed of over 310 km/h. James didn't fully understand her detailed explanations, but he grasped the essentials.
Once they returned, James said, "Okay, I'll take the red one."
The saleswoman smiled, clearly pleased.
James once again experienced the perks of capitalism. In China, a bare-bones version of this car would have cost 3.5 million yuan, with the full price nearing 4 million yuan. Here, he paid about 1.5 million yuan, saving more than 2 million yuan compared to what it would have cost back home.
With the keys in hand, he started the sleek red Ferrari, revved the engine, and sped off down the street. Luxury stores lined the streets of Beverly Hills, and James parked in front of a GUCCI store.
He went in, bought a pair of sunglasses, and put them on. As he walked back to his car, a passing blonde girl complimented him, saying, "Nice car."
"Thank you" James smiled gracefully, got in, and drove away.
After strolling around Beverly Hills, he bought a suit, a pair of leather shoes, and a Vacheron Constantin platinum mechanical watch. Stepping out of the mall, he felt transformed, though the only downside was the heat.
On the way back, James suddenly stopped, pulled out his phone, and called his bank secretary. "Hey, lei, can you help me get an invitation for a McLaren P1?"
Lei was assigned to him by Rogers, lei full name was Lei huang, given they were of the same country they tired to make him as comfortable as possible.
"Please wait a few minutes, Mr. James," the secretary replied politely.
James hung up and glanced at a rare McLaren dealership nearby. Today, the three flagship supercars that car enthusiasts talked about were the Porsche 918, Ferrari LaFerrari, and McLaren P1—collectively known as the "Three Beasts." All three were highly exclusive.
Five minutes later, Lei called back. "Mr. James, we can secure a black P1 from a client who decided not to proceed with their purchase, but you'll need to pay in full."
"No problem," James replied calmly, though he was brimming with excitement inside.
This time, James didn't need to introduce himself—he parked his Ferrari outside, and his confident demeanour already drew attention.
The McLaren showroom didn't have a P1 on display since it was a highly customizable, limited-edition car. Purchasing it required paying $1.2 million upfront and waiting at least six months, or even a year, for delivery.
Without hesitation, James signed the check. Given that the P1 cost over twelve million yuan in China, buying it in the U.S. for half the price was a no-brainer.
As James was respectfully escorted out, he finally understood what Anthony had meant at the auction house: "For the wealthy, America is heaven."