The Beauty Salon

Autumn had arrived in August, yet the heat remained unbearable.

Song Yanxi had been busy for over half a month, so when Du Juan invited her for a beauty treatment today, she finally found a rare moment to relax.

Du Juan had almost stopped hanging out with her lately, but fortunately, Song Yanxi wasn't the type to look down on people just because she had money now.

The two of them met downstairs. When they were together, Du Juan never liked driving—why bother when they could ride around in a convertible Bentley?

Song Yanxi only drove her Panamera when there were lots of people around. Most of the time, she used the Bentley.

"Yanxi, your husband just rented out an entire office floor again. Is your family planning to dominate the fruit market in Shijingshan?"

In late July, Chen Pingsheng, realizing that the headquarters was getting too cramped, leased the entire ninth floor to use as Tengsheng Fruits' finance department and training center.

Du Juan was genuinely happy for her.

Just look at how fast they had grown in just one year.

After eliminating all competition in Beixin'an, they had now expanded directly into Shijingshan. Everyone was talking about them.

Even Du Juan's colleagues found it hard to believe.

Who would have thought that the same Chen Pingsheng who used to pick up his wife on a little scooter would rise so quickly?

"It's not about dominance, just rapid expansion. Pingsheng is now planning to open some community stores over there. Our family is going to be really busy in the next two months."

"Busy is good! Otherwise, who's going to maintain that Bentley of yours?"

Du Juan smirked. "Speaking of which, wasn't this car bought by your husband? How come I've never seen him drive it?"

"He thinks it's too flashy. He prefers his old big car. But with such an expensive car, I can't just let it collect dust at home, can I?"

That made sense—this gift was practically for herself.

Du Juan was speechless. Considering her family's financial situation, having multiple Bentleys wasn't even a big deal anymore.

They had planned for a beauty treatment session.

Song Yanxi still remembered what her husband had told her—if she ever got the chance, she should open a high-end beauty salon herself.

She mentioned this to Du Juan and asked her to keep an eye out for opportunities.

The salon they visited wasn't particularly high-end, but it was a large chain specializing in women's beauty treatments.

Wanting to get a better understanding of the beauty industry, Song Yanxi had signed up for multiple treatments, including hip care, facial care, breast care, and uterine care.

When it came to beauty services for women, there were endless options—every body part could have its own specialized package.

Take hip care, for example.

There was once a news story about someone who spent millions annually just to maintain a perky backside.

She wasn't that extreme, but she still spent 9,800 yuan on a ten-session hip care package.

The main purpose? Butt lifting.

As for breast care, the options were even more extensive.

Some treatments were specifically for preventing sagging, while others focused on enhancement.

Breast enhancement was the salon's major moneymaker—something women were more than willing to splurge on.

Nowadays, there were many beautiful women, but most were flat-chested.

Men… well, they understood.

Before getting together, a man might only care about a woman's face. But after they got together, her chest mattered too.

After all, large breasts were every man's dream.

So, breast care had naturally become one of the salon's most popular services.

Facial care, on the other hand, was a bottomless pit.

Many Hong Kong actresses were called "ageless goddesses" and even shared their skincare routines.

But honestly, it was all nonsense.

The real secret was simple: spending money.

At this salon, the most premium facial treatment cost 68,000 yuan for ten sessions.

It was supposedly from a French brand.

And that was only enough to maintain results for two months.

If a woman wanted to look like she was in her twenties at age forty, she had to use such high-end skincare treatments continuously.

Or invest in anti-aging procedures.

After truly understanding how beauty salons operated, Song Yanxi suddenly realized why her husband had his eyes on this industry.

The profit margins were outrageous.

There were countless services to offer.

Take the beauticians, for example—they could start working after just three months of training.

For a 980-yuan facial, they only got a commission of a few dozen yuan.

The rest was pure profit.

If this business was run properly, it could literally make money hand over fist.

And the in-house services weren't even the biggest source of income—the real goldmine was their partnership with cosmetic surgery clinics.

For every client they referred, they got a 50% commission without doing anything else.

For instance, one of the salon's beauticians recently referred an "A-class client" to a high-end plastic surgery hospital in Beijing.

The client had both her eyes and nose done, spending over 500,000 yuan in total.

The salon, just for making the referral, received half of that as commission—over 250,000 yuan.

The sheer profitability of this industry was staggering.

Song Yanxi had her own dedicated beautician, a young woman around her age.

She was also an out-of-towner, with a dream of buying a house in Beijing.

At first, based on her financial situation, she had only recommended mid-range treatments.

But after realizing that Song Yanxi drove a Bentley sports car, the prices of her recommendations shot up—nothing below several thousand yuan per session.

Later on, she started suggesting membership packages costing tens of thousands.

Song Yanxi had money—her personal savings alone amounted to 70 to 80 million yuan.

But she wasn't stupid.

If it were her own beauty salon, she wouldn't mind spending freely. But since it wasn't, she only opted for the most practical treatments.

The most expensive ones she got were the 9,800-yuan hip care package and the 6,800-yuan breast care package.

No matter how persuasive the beautician was, she refused to buy into those overhyped services.

Still, for a relatively small beauty salon, she was quite impressed by how well it operated.

After finishing her facial and hip care treatments for the day, she had one more goal in mind—surprising her husband when she got home.

As she and Du Juan were leaving, the salon's client manager stepped out—a woman with a sharp, calculating look.

"This one's got money," she muttered. "Why haven't you sold her a French skincare package yet?"

"I tried, but she didn't go for it," the beautician replied.

"She drives a Bentley! What's stopping you from selling her a few thousand-yuan treatments? If you can't do it, we'll send Xiaolin next time. Once she gets her to try the French facial, we'll have the chance to sell her a 68,000-yuan package."

Beauty salons were all about strategy.

The manager had been observing Song Yanxi for a while.

Anyone who drove a Bentley was at least a "B-class client" for the salon.

Upgrading her to "A-class" was just a matter of time.

The only issue was that she wasn't taking the bait.

The manager blamed the beautician and decided that next time, the salon's top salesperson would handle her.

Once a client upgraded their spending habits, they would keep coming back at that level.

A woman who drove a Bentley—how could she not spend at least hundreds of thousands on her looks each year?

How else was she supposed to keep her man?

Without realizing it, Song Yanxi had already been marked as the salon's next big target.

After leaving, she drove straight to the amusement park to pick up Chen Qi and little An'an.

If it weren't for her sister-in-law helping out these past two months, she would have been even busier.

An'an, meanwhile, was fully enjoying her carefree childhood—every day was a new adventure, whether it was visiting a new play area or seeing animals.

Song Yanxi had thought about signing her up for extracurricular classes, but Chen Pingsheng dismissed the idea.

"We didn't do all that when we were kids, and we turned out just fine," he said.

To him, "winning at the starting line" was just a fancy way of saying "make more money and buy your daughter a building to collect rent from in the future."

That was a far better investment than ballet or piano lessons.