Volume One, Chapter 31: Only a Fool Would Buy This Worthless Stone!

Chen Zhonghe twisted the patched hem of his tattered coat in helpless agitation, wishing the ground would split open and swallow him whole so he would never have to show his face again. To be ridiculed openly in the street—how utterly humiliating! Never in his life had he suffered such disgrace! More than once, he had been tempted to pack up his stall at once and flee this place of public shame and gossip, casting aside all else in his desperation.

But then he thought of his son, Pingchuan—thought of the boy’s shining black eyes, brimming with trust and encouragement. That image alone forced him to suppress the urge to run. No, today, Chen Zhonghe would sacrifice his dignity if he must.

Amidst the noisy jeers of the crowd, a skinny merchant, dressed in slick, lustrous silks and sporting a pair of thin, rat-like mustaches, squeezed his way through the onlookers to the front of the stall. Ignoring the laughter around him, he crouched down, picked up several of the painted stones, and squinted as he examined them from every angle, a glint of calculation flashing in his eyes.

After a long moment, he set the stones down and looked up. A seemingly genial smile spread across his face as he addressed Chen Zhonghe: “Brother, your stone paintings are certainly novel and unusual, not something one often sees on the street. But at one or two taels of silver apiece, they’re far too expensive. Even someone like myself, who’s traveled far and wide, finds that price absurd—no one will buy them.”

He paused, glancing at the still-gawking, gossiping crowd, then lowered his voice. “Tell you what, you seem like an honest man, and earning a living is no easy feat. I’ll take all your stones off your hands.” He held up two thin fingers before Chen Zhonghe’s eyes. “I’ll give you... two taels of silver. How about it?”

“Two taels! That’s not a small sum! Enough for your whole family to live in comfort for a year!”

Two taels—truly a fortune for Chen Zhonghe! With that money, he could buy nourishing food for his ailing wife, a new pair of embroidered shoes for his young daughter Pingyu, and still have enough left over to buy fine rice and flour so his family could finally eat their fill.

His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum. Should he sell or not? Reason told him this was a windfall from the heavens, a chance that would never come again!

But just as he was about to nod in agreement, his son’s youthful, resolute voice rang clearly in his memory—“Father, trust me, just this once. These stones are worth every bit of that price!”

The resolve he had nearly lost returned with sudden force. He drew a deep breath, lifted his head, and met the merchant’s gaze. His cracked lips parted, and he uttered a few halting words: “No... I won’t sell!”

“Not for a single coin less!” he declared.

The merchant’s smile froze, then twisted into a scowl. With a snort, he tossed the stones back onto the cloth, even spitting thickly onto the ground. “Bah! Foolish pauper who doesn’t know what’s good for him!”

Straightening, he raised his voice purposely for the crowd to hear. “You all saw it, didn’t you? It’s not for lack of trying to help his business! This old man is dead set on selling his worthless stones for a tael apiece! I’d like to see what kind of simpleton would pay such a ridiculous price for them!”

The crowd burst into even louder laughter, their gazes at Chen Zhonghe now filled with both mockery and the anticipation of a spectacle.

Just then, a well-dressed, anxious-looking middle-aged man pushed his way through the throng. His eyes lit up when they fell on the painted stones. Striding quickly to the stall, he pointed at the colorful stones on the ground and asked excitedly, “Name your price! My master will take them all!”

Chen Zhonghe’s mind went blank, utterly stunned. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. The surrounding onlookers were equally dumbstruck—someone was actually buying?

The skinny merchant quickly tried to intervene. “Brother, don’t let yourself be fooled by this swindler!” he drawled, fixing Chen Zhonghe with a scornful look. “These stones are so precious, you know—one tael apiece! Not a coin less!” He even spread his hands to the crowd as if to say, “Just watch this fool.”

But the anxious man paid him no mind whatsoever, not even glancing his way. His gaze remained locked on the pile of stone paintings, as if he were a starving wolf eyeing a feast.

He reached into his purse and pulled out a silver ingot nearly half the size of his palm, along with several smaller pieces. The dazzling white silver gleamed so brightly in the sun it was hard to look at.

He counted it quickly, separated thirty-six taels, and, without a second thought, pressed them into Chen Zhonghe’s hands.

“Thirty-six taels! Count them!” His voice was bold and resounding.

In an instant, the crowd fell into deathly silence. Every bystander and vendor who had just moments before mocked Chen Zhonghe now seemed gripped by an invisible hand around their throats. Their mouths hung open, eyes wide in disbelief, as if their eyeballs might pop out of their sockets. The merchant was especially dumbfounded.

“Good heavens! Someone actually bought them!” a woman shrieked, her voice cracking in astonishment.

“Thirty-six taels! Who is this man? That’s extravagant beyond belief!”

From the crowd, a small-time peddler with a sharp eye recognized the insignia on the visitor’s belt and exclaimed in a trembling voice, “That’s... that’s the badge from the Qian family estate in the south of the city!”

“The Qian estate?!”

“So it’s Moneybags Qian’s household—the richest family around!”

Realization dawned on all present. In Luzhou Prefecture, who hadn’t heard of the fabulously wealthy Qian family?

But soon, an even greater wave of curiosity swept through the crowd: What hidden marvel could possibly lie within these ordinary-looking stones to make a magnate like Qian spend so lavishly?

The Qian family’s servant, however, said not a word. Seeing Chen Zhonghe still frozen in place, he simply shoved the heavy silver into the old man’s arms, swiftly swept all the stone paintings into a cloth sack, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and hurried away through the crowd without so much as a backward glance—almost as though he feared Chen Zhonghe might regret the sale at any moment.

No sooner had the servant departed than the street erupted into a frenzy of speculation about the “priceless stones.” Everyone wondered what extraordinary craftsmanship or mystery they might possess to inspire such passion from a tycoon like Qian.

And so, the legend of the sky-high stones began to spread.