Smoke and Mirrors

The jade pendant now in the brocade box was, of course, the real one.

Lin Mo had merely pulled a few tricks and cast a simple illusion to make the shop owner believe the fake was the genuine article.

When it was originally sold to them, it didn't cost much, and buying it back now had provided the owner with quite a bit of money.

Strictly speaking, the scrap station hadn't lost out at all.

As for punishment, there would be one, just not right now.

Tong Dong held the jade pendant and slipped it into his pocket, planning to find a red string later to thread it through and wear it close to his body.

He turned to look at Lin Mo. Let's go, I'll treat you to a meal.

You only have a hundred bucks left, what are you treating me to. Lin Mo waved his hand dismissively.

No, I actually have more money, I just didn't bring it with me. I usually don't carry too much cash on me.

Tong Dong was, after all, a former top student; there was certainly nothing wrong with his IQ.

Alright, let's go grab something to eat. We still have evening self-study classes to attend.

Saying this, Lin Mo threw his arm over Tong Dong's shoulder, and they walked off into the distance.

Meanwhile, inside the recycling station.

The owner hummed an off-key tune as he flattened a stack of bills, slowly counted them one by one, and finally bound them with a rubber band, stuffing them into the cash box with immense satisfaction.

The slight trace of guilt he had felt earlier when facing Tong Dong had long been washed away completely by the thickness of the cash and the scent of the ink.

He even cursed himself inwardly for his momentary soft-heartedness, which had cost him an extra hundred.

A long sigh came from the back room. The old man strolled out slowly with his hands behind his back, his cloudy eyes filled with disappointment toward his son.

It's a good thing you never learned this trade properly, otherwise how many people would you have ruined?

Dad, you can't say it like that.

The owner grinned nonchalantly, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. What am I running this scrap station for? Isn't it to provide for your old age, and so your eldest grandson can have a bright future? Tell me, isn't that the truth?

The old man didn't even bother to lift his eyelids, retorting in a muffled voice, I paid the money to open this station, and I paid the bride price for your wife. Provide for my old age? Hah, I'm afraid I'll have to live a few more years just to save up for your coffin.

This remark choked the owner, making his face burn. He stammered for a long time but couldn't utter a single word, ultimately turning away resentfully, not daring to talk back.

Next up is waiting for the next big client.

He muttered, pulling that piece of mutton-fat jade out from under the counter.

He rubbed his hands together, picked it up, and examined it closely under the light.

Tsk tsk, look at this oily texture, this luster. Top-quality mutton-fat jade. It's a pity it has a slight flaw, otherwise the price could be doubled again.

Of course, the piece in his hands was a fake, but under Lin Mo's illusion, nothing could be seen.

He had already contacted a buyer who specialized in jade, and they had arranged to meet today.

The plan was perfect: sell the fake as the real thing, and later sell the real one to someone else who knew their stuff.

He would eat from both ends. As for whether the scheme would be exposed later, that had nothing to do with him; as long as the money was in his hands, it was fine.

Not long after, a middle-aged man wearing a traditional Chinese button-down shirt appeared at the door. He didn't rush in; instead, he frowned and looked the rundown little scrap station up and down with critical eyes.

Where is the boss? His voice wasn't loud, but it revealed a hint of impatience.

Hey! Coming, coming!

The owner jogged over to greet him, his face plastered with a smile, and actively reached out his hand. You must be Mr. Zhai. I've heard so much about you.

The middle-aged man called Mr. Zhai merely glanced at him, showing absolutely no intention of shaking hands.

Cut the nonsense. Where is the item? Let me see that piece of mutton-fat jade. If it's the real deal, I'll take it immediately.

No problem! Absolutely no problem.

The owner didn't feel awkward at all. He chuckled and swiftly placed a brand new brocade box on the counter.

These kinds of small boxes cost only a few bucks each, and he had plenty of them.

Mr. Zhai casually picked up the brocade box and opened it. A warm and smooth jade pendant caught his eye.

And at the very moment he picked up the jade pendant, in a corner unnoticed by anyone, the illusion cast by Lin Mo quietly dissipated.

Mr. Zhai rested the jade pendant in his palm, first weighing it, then repeatedly rubbing its surface with his thumb.

Little did he know that, under Lin Mo's control, the illusion was lifted at this exact moment.

As a result, Mr. Zhai's brows furrowed tighter and tighter.

He brought the jade pendant close to his eyes, held it up to the light, and then let out an extremely soft sneer, the sound seemingly squeezed through his teeth.

He looked up at the owner, his eyes turning cold. Trying to amuse I, Zhai, with this kind of trash, aren't you taking things a bit too much for granted?

The owner: ?

Mr. Zhai casually tossed the jade pendant back into the box with a crisp clatter, his face full of sarcasm.

Trying to fool people with a piece of cheap Russian white jade, aren't you taking things a bit too much for granted?!

Russian white jade?!

The owner's head buzzed, and he was completely dumbfounded.

He snatched the jade pendant from the box and examined it over and over again, but no matter how he looked at it, the item was dull and its texture was dry. Where was the oily luster from just a moment ago?

Impossible! This is impossible! he cried out, a layer of cold sweat instantly breaking out on his forehead.

Dad! Dad!

The old man in the back room walked out at a leisurely, measured pace.

Are you calling a ghost? What's wrong?

Dad! This jade... The owner looked as if he had seen a ghost, trembling as he handed the jade pendant over.

The old man took it, rubbed it with the pad of his finger, and his face immediately darkened.

He looked at his son with deep disappointment, knowing without a second thought that this fool must have given the real item to those two kids and kept the fake one for himself.

Truly unable to accomplish anything, but more than capable of ruining things!

He took a deep breath, suppressed the anger in his heart, and looked helplessly at Mr. Zhai, casually placing the Russian white jade on the table.

Sir, I am truly sorry. My son is careless and grabbed the wrong item, making you take a trip for nothing. If you don't mind this piece of material, consider it a gift to make a friend.

Hearing this, Mr. Zhai laughed instead of getting angry, his laughter full of mockery.

Give it to me? Pretending to be generous after being exposed? Even if you gave me this piece of junk, I'd think it would dirty my place!

Humiliated time and time again, coupled with the frustration of messing things up himself, the owner could no longer suppress the wicked fire in his heart and roared directly at Mr. Zhai.

Take it or leave it, damn it! If you don't want it, get lost and stop being an eyesore here!

The smile on Mr. Zhai's face instantly disappeared, replaced by icy coldness.

He stared fixedly at the owner and said, emphasizing every word, Good, good, very good.

After saying that, without casting another glance, he flicked his sleeves forcefully and turned to leave.

The shop instantly fell silent, leaving only the owner's heavy breathing.

The old man raised a slightly trembling hand and pointed at his son.

You idiot, over ten thousand just gone like that. You're a true prodigal son, both wicked and stupid.

With that said, the old man turned and went back inside.