Summary
Our final thesis defenses had barely ended when the college group chat filled with graduation-trip plans.
Bai Ruoning, our class welfare representative, messaged me privately.
“Tinglan, I heard your family’s resort was renovated and expanded this year. Everyone wants a beach trip. Give us a friends’ rate: 9.9 yuan each, three days and two nights.”
“We’re all friends. You can’t possibly fill all those new rooms. We’d be doing you a favor by showing up.”
Our most basic garden-view room cost 1,600 yuan a night even in the off-season. Ocean-view suites started at 2,800. Yachts were billed hourly. The seafood banquet cost 1,000 per person.
She wanted all of that for 9.9 yuan a head?
Even Pinduoduo didn’t bargain that hard.
I politely refused.
“All hotel charges are settled at the posted rates. There is no 9.9-yuan package.”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she dropped an ocean-view photo into the group chat.
“Graduation trip to Nanyu Bay! Three days, two nights, all-inclusive, 9.9 yuan per person. Just negotiated it. Limited spots. First come, first served!”
The chat exploded with praise for her bargaining genius. What a friend, thinking of the whole class when she’d found a deal beyond their wildest dreams.
A stream of 9.9-yuan transfers followed. One was labeled: One spot for my girlfriend.
I was so speechless I laughed to myself.
If they insisted on turning a bargain into a gaping financial hole, we’d see who ended up filling it.