Chapter Sixty: Casting a Long Line

Yesterday’s events with Tang Peng brought Qin Jing much inspiration. Therefore, when faced with Wan Anxian, Qin Jing made no attempt to conceal anything, instead directly revealing his connection to the Shadow Association.

Seeing Wan Anxian’s shocked expression, Qin Jing spoke calmly, “Last night’s transaction at my door—I’m well aware it was you. To be honest, there’s more to this shop than meets the eye. It’s impossible to transfer the lease, and I intend to keep it for the long term. So you’d best abandon any plans for this place.”

Wan Anxian quickly lowered his head, clasped his hands, and said respectfully, “I hadn’t expected the owner to be someone extraordinary. Thank you for letting me know. I wouldn’t dare covet this shop again. I apologize for my presumption. May I ask what you’re selling? Perhaps I could buy something?”

His words were an overture—a desire to buy something and make a friend.

Business magnates and the Shadow Association are cut from very different cloth; a single sentence was enough to set them apart.

Qin Jing cast a look of approval at him, gesturing to the shelves behind. “This is a resale shop. If you have any secondhand luxury items, you can bring them here to exchange for cash. Of course, if you’re looking for quality secondhand goods, you can come to me as well.”

Secondhand luxury goods? What use is that to me?

Wan Anxian gave a wry smile, but his deep reserves of composure ensured nothing showed on his face. Instead, he stepped to the shelves and examined them closely.

Thanks to the large-scale acquisitions of the past few days, Qin Jing had sold quite a few items, yet his shelves still displayed several choice pieces. He was thorough in his work: every item had a label detailing its information, in a format quite similar to the appraisal notes given by GDP.

Wan Anxian had intended only to glance around and pick a high-priced item for appearance’s sake, but as he looked, he noticed something odd.

“Brother, the prices on these goods aren’t quite right. Some are nearly at their original retail price.”

Qin Jing glanced at him and replied casually, “Those are purchase prices. I’m buying a lot of branded jewelry, bags, and clothing.”

“Purchase prices?”

Wan Anxian was stunned, about to say: If these are purchase prices, isn’t that even stranger? At these rates, how do you make any profit?

Naturally, Qin Jing would not reveal his business secrets. After a moment’s thought, he pointed to the counter. “Boss Wan, you strike me as a decent man. Let me direct you to a particular item; look at the price, and if you want it, buy it.”

Following Qin Jing’s gesture, Wan Anxian peered into the counter and found several items displayed inside.

Strange, he thought, why hadn’t I noticed these before?

Wan Anxian was puzzled. When he looked more closely at the items, he couldn’t help but gasp.

Simple objects—a small pouch, about the size of a wallet, labeled: “100g rice, 10,000 yuan.” There was also a “bottle of mineral water,” labeled: “300g water, 20,000 yuan.”

Beside them was a finely crafted small bag, its label reading: “Small bag, 100,000,000…”

Wan Anxian rubbed his eyes, staring at the bag. How many zeros were there? Counting carefully, he drew in a sharp breath. That’s… one hundred million?

“What’s the currency here?” he asked.

“RMB,” Qin Jing replied offhandedly.

He offered no explanation as to what these items truly were. Although prices had risen somewhat compared to before, Qin Jing knew that if word got out, crowds would still flock to buy. Pointing out these items to Wan Anxian was merely a favor; if Wan Anxian balked at the price, so be it. Qin Jing had no intention of begging for sales when it came to extraordinary items.

What did this mean? Ten thousand yuan for a couple ounces of rice? Twenty thousand for a bottle of water? And that small bag, finely made but hardly a luxury brand—why charge a hundred million? Who did he think he was?

Anyone would feel played at this point; Wan Anxian was no exception. But just as the thought crossed his mind, a sudden inspiration struck him. Qin Jing’s identity: an extraordinary person, connected to the Shadow Association. Last night, the five million he delivered most likely ended up in this shop.

Wait—have I stumbled upon something astonishing?

First, from Qin Jing’s tone, he’s not a member of the Shadow Association; he’s rather dismissive of them. Second, last night, members of the Association urgently needed cash, specifically old bills. Luckily, he’d had some on hand. Third, that money was likely left in this shop.

Combining these clues, Wan Anxian arrived at an unbelievable conclusion: this was an extraordinary store. Its wares were unlike anything else. Otherwise, no one—not even a madman—would dare ask such prices.

Looking at the items in the counter, Wan Anxian gritted his teeth and declared, “Mr. Qin, I’ll buy a hundred grams of rice.”

He was, after all, a businessman, and his calculations were sharp. A hundred grams of rice cost just ten thousand yuan—a trifling sum for him. If it really was extraordinary material, he’d make a killing.

But Qin Jing firmly refused. “Sorry. For ordinary customers, the shop limits purchases to one item per day, one portion each time.”

Ordinary customer? Purchase limits?

Wan Anxian felt a strange sense of déjà vu. He had a friend in the mobile phone business who used similar promotional tactics: launch a super cost-effective phone, build up the hype, then limit purchases. Customers would scramble to snatch them up, and if they missed out, they’d scratch their heads and fret, just like monkeys.

At this moment, Wan Anxian felt like one of those monkeys himself.

“Then I’ll buy a hundred grams of rice, Mr. Qin. Can I come back tomorrow for more?”

Wan Anxian beamed, looking at Qin Jing with anticipation. What’s so bad about being a monkey, if the goods are as extraordinary as he suspects?

Qin Jing nodded. “You’re welcome anytime.”

At checkout, there was a twist: Wan Anxian discovered for the first time that Qin Jing only accepted old banknotes and gold. Recalling Tang Peng’s request the previous night, Wan Anxian’s suspicions were further confirmed.

After purchasing the rice, Wan Anxian did not leave immediately. He stayed, chatting with Qin Jing, trying to build rapport. Qin Jing could see that this man was just an ordinary person, but his desire for extraordinary power was palpable—even his conversational finesse could not hide it. Between the lines, he made it clear: if he could obtain a “godlike technique,” he’d spare no expense, even if it meant bankrupting himself.

Qin Jing felt a flicker of interest. His F650, after all, had previously belonged to Wan Anxian, so he had some knowledge of the man. He knew Wan Anxian was a tycoon in the Cold Sea appliance market, founder of many large-scale electronics stores in the area, with a fortune in the billions—perhaps more. Converted to g-points, that would amount to hundreds of thousands.

But in the end, Qin Jing revealed nothing, letting Wan Anxian leave. This was a colossal business opportunity, one that required patience—a long line to catch the big fish.

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