4: Chapter 4: The gold is too pure; the gold shop owner wants to call the police.

The fat manager's hands were shaking, trembling like a sieve.

He held a high-temperature torch in his hand, the blue flame burning a corner of the gold belt bright red, but the gold not only didn't change color, but instead seemed to have a life of its own, flowing with a brilliant luster that made people's hearts palpitate.

The spectrometer next to him had gone crazy; the data bar was maxed out, finally stopping at an absurd value: Au 99.999%.

"This is absurd..."

The fat manager took off his glasses and wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his sleeve; oily beads of sweat streamed down his fat cheeks. He had been in this business for thirty years; what kind of pure gold hadn't he seen? But he had never seen gold with such high purity that the machine almost gave an error.

This was simply not something that current refining technology could produce.

What was even more fatal was the craftsmanship.

He looked through the magnifying glass for a long time. The hollow patterns on the belt, every single strand of gold wire was thinner than a human hair, interlocking and winding, without a single weld point. This kind of supernatural craftsmanship—he would believe it if you said it was made by aliens, but he wouldn't believe it came from any jewelry factory.

Looking again at the dark red bloodstain on the inside of the belt, and then at the young man in front of him with his hat pulled low and a look of poverty.

The greed and fear in the fat manager's heart were fighting wildly.

This thing was either a national treasure-level artifact, or just "grave goods" freshly unearthed, or perhaps... stolen loot from a murder.

"Little brother," the fat manager put his glasses back on, his voice tight, that professional fake smile uglier than crying, "This thing... the quality is a bit eerie."

Jiang Chen leaned against the counter, seemingly playing with his fingers carelessly, but his peripheral vision was locked on the fat manager's right hand under the counter.

That hand was slowly, bit by bit, moving towards a red button on the inside of the counter.

The alarm.

"Eerie?"

Jiang Chen sneered, his voice low but carrying a reckless, ruthless edge, "It's a family heirloom. If my family weren't in urgent need of money to save a life, who would be willing to sell it?"

"Family heirloom?"

The fat manager hummed with a fake smile, his fingers only a few centimeters from the button, "Let's not talk in riddles. The blood on this isn't even dry, is it? Which ancestor leaves behind a treasure stained with blood? Little brother, this thing is hot, I'm afraid my little shop can't handle it, how about we..."

Before he could finish, Jiang Chen suddenly moved.

Without any nonsense, he lunged forward, grabbed the gold belt from the table, his movements as fast as a startled leopard.

"Can't handle it?"

Jiang Chen stuffed the gold belt into his tattered backpack, zipped it up, and turned to leave, "Fine, since Gold Dafu doesn't have the capacity, I'll go ask at the Zhou Dasheng across the street. I heard their manager is bold; as long as it's real gold and silver, they dare to take anything."

This "playing hard to get" tactic hit the fat manager's Achilles' heel directly.

The Zhou Dasheng across the street was their arch-rival; the two shops had been fighting for customers for years. If this fat piece of meat really fell into the hands of the other side, and they resold it or melted it down to make jewelry, the profit would be at least several hundred thousand!

Several hundred thousand!

In this day and age, that was a normal person's ten years of wages!

Greed instantly overcame fear.

"Hey! Little brother! Wait! Wait!"

The fat manager almost jumped out from behind the counter, his fat shaking, grabbing Jiang Chen's sleeve tightly, "Why is a young man so impatient! I didn't say I wouldn't take it!"

Jiang Chen stopped and looked back at him, his eyes cold: "That hand of yours just now, you were wanting to call the police, right?"

The fat manager's face stiffened, then he awkwardly laughed, raising that hand: "A misunderstanding! A huge misunderstanding! I was just trying to reach for the calculator! In business, we value harmony and wealth, how could I do something that ruins someone else's livelihood?"

As he spoke, he led Jiang Chen to the back room, and shouted at the stunned shop assistant: "What are you standing there for! Pour tea! Get the best Dahongpao!"

Sitting back at the counter, the atmosphere changed subtly.

It was no longer a tense standoff, but a naked game of interest.

"Since you're a straightforward person, little brother, I'll give you a straightforward answer."

The fat manager touched the gold belt, the light in his eyes greedily terrifying, "If this thing goes through regular channels, you know, no invoice, no certificate, and it needs to be registered, it's very troublesome. If you're in a hurry for money, I can take it as 'old gold recycling', but the price..."

He held up three carrot-like fingers: "350,000. A final price, cash transfer, no nonsense."

"450,000."

Jiang Chen didn't even lift his eyelids, "This belt is 1,200 grams. You know the current gold price. Even melting it down to sell as raw gold is worth more than that. I haven't even counted the premium for the craftsmanship."

"Oh my little ancestor, do you think I dare to sell this as a craft piece? I have to melt it down too!"

The fat manager slapped his thigh in pain, "The blood on this, and its unknown origin... the risks I'm taking! If the police come looking, my shop will be sealed! 380,000, not a cent more, this is my bottom line!"

Jiang Chen calculated in his heart.

At market price, it could indeed sell for over 700,000, but that was through regular channels. In this kind of black market transaction, a discount was certain.

And what he lacked most now was time.

The deadline Zhao Tianba gave was tomorrow. If he haggled with other buyers for a few thousand dollars and something went wrong, Qianqian would be finished.

"400,000."

Jiang Chen held up four fingers, staring into the fat manager's eyes, his tone unquestionable, "Not a cent less. If you agree, transfer the money now, I take the money and leave, and this thing has nothing to do with me from now on. If you don't agree, I'm turning left and walking out the door right now."

The fat manager gritted his teeth, the fat on his face twitching several times, as if undergoing an intense internal struggle.

Buying it for 400,000, melting it down to sell as gold material, he could earn at least 300,000. If he found a black market buyer who knew the business and sold this craft piece, he would earn even more...

Wealth is sought in danger!

"Deal!"

The fat manager slapped the table, as if he had made a great decision, "400,000 it is! But let me say this first, once you walk out that door, I don't know you, and you don't know me!"

"Deal."

Five minutes later.

"Ding—"

A crisp, pleasant notification sound broke the silence in the store.

Jiang Chen took out his phone, and a bank SMS popped up on the screen: [Your savings account ending in 8888 received a deposit of RMB 400,000.00 on October 24 at 09:15, current balance 400,005.20 yuan.]

Looking at that long string of zeros, the nerves Jiang Chen had been tensing all morning finally relaxed a little.

400,000.

In this era where the average salary was only a few thousand, this was a huge sum of money. But in Jiang Chen's eyes, this was just the beginning, the first bullet he fired in his war against this shitty world.

"Thanks."

Jiang Chen put away his phone, pulled his hat brim down, didn't look again at the fat manager who was drooling over the gold belt, and turned to walk out of the jewelry store with big strides.

Outside, the sunshine was just right.

The bustling crowd was still rushing for a living, the honking of cars and the shouting of vendors intertwined. Jiang Chen stood on the steps, took a deep breath of the air mixed with exhaust fumes, and felt it was exceptionally sweet.

Just two hours ago, he had wanted to jump off a building because of a 500,000 high-interest loan.

And now, he held the chips to turn things around.

"Zhao Tianba..."

Jiang Chen narrowed his eyes, his gaze passing through the bustling street, looking at the dark corner of the urban village, a cold, sharp arc curling at the corner of his mouth.

"It's time we settle our accounts."

He took out his phone, without any hesitation, and dialed the number that once made him beg as lowly as a dog.

The phone rang twice before it was answered, and the noisy sound of mahjong and a man's rude cursing came from the other end.

"Hello? Which blind idiot is calling me at this time?"