Chapter Thirty-Five: The Zhou Family Patriarch

“Mr. Zhou, Mr. Yang is here,” the store manager announced respectfully to the calm and composed elder sitting in the lounge, a display of deference that caught Yang Wenhao by surprise.

Yang Wenhao glanced at the manager, silently asking for an explanation. The manager, no fool, immediately understood his meaning and clarified, “Mr. Yang, this is one of our company’s appraisers. It was Mr. Zhou here who authenticated your jade bracelet previously.”

“I see,” Yang Wenhao replied with a slight nod.

Old Zhou smiled and spoke, “Mr. Yang, you are truly a remarkable young man. I heard from Xiao Sun that you have several other pieces of jewelry of similar quality to that jade bracelet. Would you allow me to take a look at them?”

Yang Wenhao glanced at Old Zhou, then reached into his pocket and produced several pieces of jewelry.

The store manager, Sun, showed little reaction, but Old Zhou’s eyes glittered with interest when he saw Yang Wenhao pull so many items from such a small pocket.

His attention was soon captured by the jewelry Yang Wenhao laid out.

“Excellent, excellent,” Old Zhou praised repeatedly. As he expected, these were all top-quality jewels.

Yang Wenhao said indifferently, “Name your price for these.”

Old Zhou looked at him curiously. “Mr. Yang, do you really intend to sell all of these?”

“Why do you people love to ask pointless questions?” Yang Wenhao frowned. “I’ve already said before that I want to sell them. Why else would I come to you?”

Growing slightly impatient with their chatter, Yang Wenhao’s words left Manager Sun somewhat embarrassed, but Old Zhou remained steady. He nodded slightly. “If you truly wish to sell all of these, our shop will gladly purchase them. As for the price—do you have a figure in mind?”

“Price?” Yang Wenhao stroked his chin thoughtfully. He genuinely had no idea how much these jades were worth. After all, he had obtained them through the Axe Gang’s forceful methods and knew little of their true value.

Still, he reasoned, this was a jewelry shop and surely not short on funds—how about one million?

With that thought, he raised a single finger.

Seeing this, Old Zhou and Manager Sun exchanged glances. Old Zhou hesitated briefly, then nodded. “Very well, we’ll go with your price. Xiao Sun, report it and have the company transfer one hundred million to Mr. Yang.”

“Ahem…”

Yang Wenhao, who had been sitting comfortably, nearly lost his balance at the mention of one hundred million.

“Is something the matter, Mr. Yang?” Old Zhou asked with some confusion, wondering if Yang Wenhao was dissatisfied with the price.

Yang Wenhao was stunned. Who would have thought that a few seemingly ordinary pieces of jewelry could fetch such a high price?

He had thought one million was more than enough and was ready to haggle, but they offered a hundred million without blinking—he was dumbfounded.

Could the jewelry really be worth that much?

Regaining his composure, Yang Wenhao asked, “Do you buy anything else here?”

Old Zhou was puzzled. “What do you mean by something else, Mr. Yang?”

“Gold, silver, jewelry, or antiques,” Yang Wenhao replied.

He still had a large box of gold and silver jewelry, and although he didn’t yet possess antiques, who knew what he might find on his future travels?

This was a great way to make a fortune—he’d never be short of money again. Although cultivation was more important to him, having a lucrative side business certainly wouldn’t hurt.

“If the quality is good,” Old Zhou replied, “we’ll take them all.”

“Understood,” Yang Wenhao nodded.

While they spoke, Manager Sun had already transferred the one hundred million. Yang Wenhao’s phone chimed with the notification.

Staring at the endless string of zeros, Yang Wenhao felt as if he’d gone from pauper to tycoon in an instant.

He left the shop, satisfied. One hundred million would last him a long time—he could sell another batch when it ran out. Life couldn’t be better.

Back in the lounge, Manager Sun looked at Old Zhou in confusion. “Old Zhou, we probably won’t make much profit on those pieces at one hundred million, will we?”

Old Zhou shook his head. “You don’t understand. This young man is not simple. Didn’t you notice that when he learned the price was a hundred million, the first thing that flashed in his eyes was surprise? That means his own estimate was far lower.”

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Manager Sun argued.

“When most people come into sudden wealth, they reveal a lot in their reactions. But he was different,” Old Zhou said. “After that initial shock, I saw him regain his composure. It was as if a hundred million hardly moved him.”

“Old Zhou, your judgment of people is beyond me,” Manager Sun said, not fully understanding but nonetheless extolling Yang Wenhao’s abilities.

Old Zhou gazed out the window and murmured, “I have a feeling our Zhou family will rise because of him…”

…

Riding in a taxi, Yang Wenhao had no idea how high an opinion Old Zhou now held of him.

He returned home just in time for dinner. Seeing him, Yang Ying, wearing an apron, pursed her lips and said, “Good thing you’re back. I almost thought you’d gone for remedial lessons again.”

For some reason, Yang Wenhao sensed a note of jealousy in her words.

He shrugged. “Wasn’t that because my grades were bad and the teacher made me go for extra lessons?”

“So why didn’t you go today?” Yang Ying asked.

“My grades are up to standard now, so I don’t need to go anymore,” Yang Wenhao replied, glancing at her. “What, do you want me to keep going? If so, I’ll let Teacher Leng know.”

“No…” Yang Ying started to protest, but catching the playful glint in Yang Wenhao’s eyes, she realized she’d been teased. With a light snort, she turned and went into the kitchen.

When she returned with the dishes, she found Yang Wenhao sitting cross-legged on the sofa, eyes closed, engaged in who-knows-what.

She’d meant to call him to dinner, but as she approached, she found she didn’t want to wake him. Instead, she crouched down quietly in front of him, watching him in silence.

No one knew how long she’d been there when Yang Wenhao slowly opened his eyes, meeting Yang Ying’s gaze—her eyes as vibrant and beautiful as gemstones.

For a moment, their eyes met, and a faint blush slowly colored Yang Ying’s cheeks.

“I, um… I was just calling you to dinner,” she stammered, finding an excuse before hurriedly turning away.

Yang Wenhao shook his head at the sight, smiling in silence.

After dinner, Yang Ying went to watch TV, while Yang Wenhao returned early to his room.

Cultivation by day and night was different; daytime was for absorbing the essence of the sun, nighttime for the essence of the moon. Only by blending the two could one achieve the best results.