The worse cinema was worse in every measurable way.
Yang Ruoqian arrived at the site with Director Chen, Lu Shuyuan, and a finance assistant who looked too young to understand that cheap things could be dangerous.
The broker stood under the broken sign and smiled with professional shame.
"This one is not suitable for business," he said.
Yang immediately liked him.
The entrance faced the back of an appliance market where delivery carts had scratched the ground into gray lines. The old ticket window had been covered by plywood. Someone had written a phone number on the plywood in marker, then crossed it out and written a different number under it. The ceiling near the door had a damp patch. The lobby smelled like closed rooms and old cardboard.
Perfect.
A building like this could not become famous.
It could barely become dry.
"As you can see," the broker said, "customer flow is poor."
"Excellent," Yang said.
The broker hesitated.
