Chapter 9: The First Big Shot
2276 Words
Laughter erupted around her. The people in the underground market turned to watch, their gazes openly scrutinizing the girl, filled with amusement and malice.
But she didn’t so much as glance at them. Her expression remained indifferent.
She slipped the ancient coin into her pocket and was about to leave.
Yet the jeering voices persisted.
“Look at that! Told you, you scared her off. Now she’ll run home crying to mommy.”
“I was just trying to help! Toughen her up a little. Looks like she—”
Before the man could finish his sentence, a sharp voice cut through the noise.
"Miss, my master would like to offer six million dollars to acquire that Qin-era silver half-tael coin in your possession. Would you consider parting with it?"
The crowd went silent.
The young vendor’s sneer froze, his entire face stiffening in shock.
What?
Six million—six million for a random, worthless coin?
Was this a joke?
The bystanders who had been watching just for fun suddenly perked up, their murmurs rising in disbelief.
"What the hell kind of coin is worth six million?"
"Wait, did he say Qin-era silver half-tael coin?"
"That can’t be right..."
"If it really is a Qin silver half-tael, then it’s definitely worth that much."
A few years back, at an international auction, a similar Qin silver half-tael coin had sold for over seven hundred and sixty thousand dollars.
The young vendor’s expression twisted in fury. "What Qin silver half-tael? I found this thing by a river! Do you think those are just lying around like cabbages?"
If the coin was truly valuable, then he’d just made himself a complete fool.
A man in a traditional Chinese suit stood behind the assistant who had made the offer. His silver hair gleamed under the dim underground lights, and despite his age, his posture remained strong and commanding.
The young man beside him stepped forward, polite yet firm. "If the price isn’t enough, we’re willing to increase it."
The moment those words were spoken, the entire crowd gasped.
"How rare is that coin if six million isn’t enough?"
"No way. Could it really be a real Qin silver half-tael?"
The vendor, however, exploded with rage. "This is ridiculous! There’s no way that’s real!"
The elder clasped his hands behind his back, his voice steady but authoritative. "Mu Cheng."
The young man called Mu Cheng immediately produced a document—an official certification. The paper bore a striking red stamp and clearly stated the credentials:
National Certified Appraiser, Level 8.
The highest rank possible.
The document alone crushed any lingering doubts, slamming down like a heavy slap across the vendor’s face.
Ying Zijin took a moment to study the certificate, her expression thoughtful. So, there really are a lot of new professions in this era.
She nodded. "No need to raise the price. This amount is just right."
"Excellent, many thanks, Miss." Mu Cheng retrieved a sleek black card and handed it to her. "Six million dollars, globally accepted."
A golden iris flower was imprinted in the corner of the card.
Ying Zijin’s fingers paused slightly as she took the card. Her gaze flickered.
Good. The bank where I stored my gold all those years ago hasn’t collapsed yet.
Before she could leave, the vendor suddenly lunged forward, his expression twisted in greed.
"No! I’m not selling it anymore!" He reached out, attempting to snatch the coin back from her. His movements were rough, eyes flashing with desperation.
It was his find. That money belonged to him.
Ying Zijin’s face remained unreadable.
Without hesitation, she lifted her leg and kicked.
Effortless.
Casual.
But the force sent the vendor flying several meters backward before he crashed onto the ground with a loud thud.
The underground market fell into stunned silence.
"..."
People gawked.
The girl handed over the coin and pocketed the black card. "Thank you."
Mu Cheng, still in shock, nodded mechanically. "...You’re welcome."
Even the elderly man seemed momentarily taken aback. His sharp eyes studied her with renewed interest.
And then, something even rarer happened.
The underground market’s managers arrived.
The usually absent and indifferent authorities stepped forward, their faces grim.
"This market has its own rules," one of them declared. "Once an item is sold, it is sold. Trying to take it back? That’s unacceptable. His license is revoked. He is permanently banned from entering this market."
With that, they turned to Ying Zijin and bowed slightly. "Apologies for the disturbance, Miss."
She casually tucked the black card into her pocket. "No problem."
Six million dollars—enough to last her for a while.
The managers, relieved, turned away to oversee the vendor being dragged out of the market.
A few steps away, watching from the bar, the bartender let out a long breath. "That little one you’re interested in is... pretty fierce."
A tiny, delicate girl had just launched a grown man several meters with a single kick.
"Mm? What are you talking about?" Fu Yunshen smiled lazily, his peach-blossom eyes curving. "She’s obedient and adorable."
The bartender: "..."
The level of bias was insane.
Still, something puzzled him. "Why didn’t you step in yourself? A classic hero rescue would’ve been perfect."
Instead, Fu Yunshen had let the market managers deal with it.
Fu Yunshen’s long eyelashes lowered slightly as he chuckled. "I couldn’t interfere."
The bartender raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Laughter erupted around her. The people in the underground market turned to watch, their gazes openly scrutinizing the girl, filled with amusement and malice.
But she didn’t so much as glance at them. Her expression remained indifferent.
She slipped the ancient coin into her pocket and was about to leave.
Yet the jeering voices persisted.
“Look at that! Told you, you scared her off. Now she’ll run home crying to mommy.”
“I was just trying to help! Toughen her up a little. Looks like she—”
Before the man could finish his sentence, a sharp voice cut through the noise.
"Miss, my master would like to offer six million dollars to acquire that Qin-era silver half-tael coin in your possession. Would you consider parting with it?"
The crowd went silent.
The young vendor’s sneer froze, his entire face stiffening in shock.
What?
Six million—six million for a random, worthless coin?
Was this a joke?
The bystanders who had been watching just for fun suddenly perked up, their murmurs rising in disbelief.
"What the hell kind of coin is worth six million?"
"Wait, did he say Qin-era silver half-tael coin?"
"That can’t be right..."
"If it really is a Qin silver half-tael, then it’s definitely worth that much."
A few years back, at an international auction, a similar Qin silver half-tael coin had sold for over seven hundred and sixty thousand dollars.
The young vendor’s expression twisted in fury. "What Qin silver half-tael? I found this thing by a river! Do you think those are just lying around like cabbages?"
If the coin was truly valuable, then he’d just made himself a complete fool.
A man in a traditional Chinese suit stood behind the assistant who had made the offer. His silver hair gleamed under the dim underground lights, and despite his age, his posture remained strong and commanding.
The young man beside him stepped forward, polite yet firm. "If the price isn’t enough, we’re willing to increase it."
The moment those words were spoken, the entire crowd gasped.
"How rare is that coin if six million isn’t enough?"
"No way. Could it really be a real Qin silver half-tael?"
The vendor, however, exploded with rage. "This is ridiculous! There’s no way that’s real!"
The elder clasped his hands behind his back, his voice steady but authoritative. "Mu Cheng."
The young man called Mu Cheng immediately produced a document—an official certification. The paper bore a striking red stamp and clearly stated the credentials:
National Certified Appraiser, Level 8.
The highest rank possible.
The document alone crushed any lingering doubts, slamming down like a heavy slap across the vendor’s face.
Ying Zijin took a moment to study the certificate, her expression thoughtful. So, there really are a lot of new professions in this era.
She nodded. "No need to raise the price. This amount is just right."
"Excellent, many thanks, Miss." Mu Cheng retrieved a sleek black card and handed it to her. "Six million dollars, globally accepted."
A golden iris flower was imprinted in the corner of the card.
Ying Zijin’s fingers paused slightly as she took the card. Her gaze flickered.
Good. The bank where I stored my gold all those years ago hasn’t collapsed yet.
Before she could leave, the vendor suddenly lunged forward, his expression twisted in greed.
"No! I’m not selling it anymore!" He reached out, attempting to snatch the coin back from her. His movements were rough, eyes flashing with desperation.
It was his find. That money belonged to him.
Ying Zijin’s face remained unreadable.
Without hesitation, she lifted her leg and kicked.
Effortless.
Casual.
But the force sent the vendor flying several meters backward before he crashed onto the ground with a loud thud.
The underground market fell into stunned silence.
"..."
People gawked.
The girl handed over the coin and pocketed the black card. "Thank you."
Mu Cheng, still in shock, nodded mechanically. "...You’re welcome."
Even the elderly man seemed momentarily taken aback. His sharp eyes studied her with renewed interest.
And then, something even rarer happened.
The underground market’s managers arrived.
The usually absent and indifferent authorities stepped forward, their faces grim.
"This market has its own rules," one of them declared. "Once an item is sold, it is sold. Trying to take it back? That’s unacceptable. His license is revoked. He is permanently banned from entering this market."
With that, they turned to Ying Zijin and bowed slightly. "Apologies for the disturbance, Miss."
She casually tucked the black card into her pocket. "No problem."
Six million dollars—enough to last her for a while.
The managers, relieved, turned away to oversee the vendor being dragged out of the market.
A few steps away, watching from the bar, the bartender let out a long breath. "That little one you’re interested in is... pretty fierce."
A tiny, delicate girl had just launched a grown man several meters with a single kick.
"Mm? What are you talking about?" Fu Yunshen smiled lazily, his peach-blossom eyes curving. "She’s obedient and adorable."
The bartender: "..."
The level of bias was insane.
Still, something puzzled him. "Why didn’t you step in yourself? A classic hero rescue would’ve been perfect."
Instead, Fu Yunshen had let the market managers deal with it.
Fu Yunshen’s long eyelashes lowered slightly as he chuckled. "I couldn’t interfere."
The bartender raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"Hmm—" Fu Yunshen paused, then smirked. "I have to respect her pride. After all, we just said goodnight two hours ago."
And now, meeting again in the underground market?
It would have been awkward.
Besides, he had known she’d show up here the moment she heard Nie Chao mention the place. He had just been waiting.
The bartender stared at him.
"..."
"This entire time since you got back," the bartender muttered, "you’ve just been focused on winning her over."
Fu Yunshen let out a low laugh, tilting his head slightly. "You say that like I need to try."
The bartender glanced at Fu Yunshen’s face—the kind of face that could make people willingly throw their fortunes at him.
"..."
Fair point.
Meanwhile, In a Nearby Alleyway
"Master, if we had gotten here earlier, we wouldn’t have had to spend six million." Mu Cheng sighed.
While six million dollars wasn’t a lot to them, saving where they could was always good practice.
"It wasn’t a waste." The elder shook his head, amusement flashing across his face. "At the very least, I got to meet an interesting young lady."
Mu Cheng frowned slightly, confused. "Are you referring to her kick earlier?"
"That, and the fact that she knew what she was holding. That coin? She didn’t just get lucky."
Mu Cheng hesitated. "That’s impossible… isn’t it?"
It had taken him ten full days of research before confirming that the coin was real.
The elder, Mu Heqing, didn’t explain further. Instead, he suddenly coughed harshly, his body seizing.
Mu Cheng’s expression changed drastically. "Master!"
Panic surged through him. They hadn’t brought a doctor.
Mu Heqing had always been strong, but ever since he was shot near the heart years ago, he’d been suffering from recurring episodes. Even after recent surgery, this was too soon for another attack.
What could they do?
Far away in the capital, Miss Meng couldn’t possibly arrive in time.
As Mu Cheng fumbled to administer medication, a calm voice spoke behind him.
"Don’t prop him up. That’ll only make it harder for him to breathe. Lay him flat."
Mu Cheng’s head snapped up.
Standing in the alley entrance was a girl, tall and slender.
She stepped forward, crouched down, and placed her fingers against Mu Heqing’s wrist.
Mu Cheng’s breath caught in his throat.
Before he could stop her, he swung his hand to slap hers away. "Don’t touch him!"
But his hand never made contact.
Instead, it hit the pavement—hard.
Mu Cheng’s voice was sharp. "What do you think you’re doing?"
The girl didn’t even flinch.
"Saving him," she said.
Mu Cheng almost laughed. "You? You’re just a girl!"
Only a select few in the ancient medical world had the qualifications to treat Mu Heqing.
Who did she think she was?
- Writer
