"Yes, our clay sculptures can't be sold directly."
A player said confidently, "They need atmosphere. We should cast the clay sculptures into a Chaos Sea and let people fish them up."
"Isn't that needlessly complicated? It's too much trouble."
"It has to be that troublesome. We'll only charge admission—the entry fee for the Golden Fishing Ground—low enough that even the poorest beings can grit their teeth and afford a cast." The player said.
The old man grew anxious. "That won't do. A single one of these imitations is worth a fortune. The ones on my stall are all damaged goods, without Dao essence, worn away by time, so they aren't worth much. But those that happened to be sealed in subspace and preserved intact after soaking in certain substances are lifelike and priceless! One sold at auction for an astonishing price before. We'd lose terribly. Besides, weren't we supposed to avoid letting them circulate in large quantities?"
"No, that's exactly what we need to do. Clearly priced imitation clay sculptures can't earn real money. We need to find a way to drive up their prices, but we're too weak to raise market prices ourselves. If we want them to become valuable, we need others to help us raise the prices. And to do that, we have to give them benefits."
The old man was completely bewildered.
The player chuckled. "We'll build the Golden Fishing Ground and make them gamble, just like pulling cards. They'll fish there, and with an extremely low chance, they can catch a top-grade sculpture and become rich overnight. Then the fishing ground will be packed. The more people fish, the more smart merchants will wait outside to buy up the items they catch. They'll naturally form their own trading and purchasing network, creating a secondary market.