Zhang Kewei said he was going to unload his troubles on Chen Feng, but he actually didn't say much, just complained about his current miserable and exhausting job.
Although he made seven to eight thousand a month, it was too tiring and he often had to work overtime.
"I'm just hoping to save up enough for a down payment of six hundred thousand on a house before I turn thirty, and buy a roughly one hundred square meter second-hand house here in Xiu Zhou," Zhang Kewei said with a mix of longing and confidence.
Chen Feng chuckled, "Looks like you've got faith in yourself. I remember you're a year younger than me—you still have more than a year till thirty. How much have you saved up? Fifty thousand?"
"Heh heh, let's not talk about that. Heh heh, let's drink tea," Zhang Kewei said, raising his cup to Chen Feng.
This guy was acting all cocky, a manner Chen Feng was very familiar with from their college days: a little achievement and he was strutting like a peacock.
