The Point of Conflict

Tea mist curled upward, its fragrance rich and refreshing.

Liang Qu clasped the tea bowl in his large hand. The water mist coiled back and spread across the tabletop, blurring the light.

Three hundred and seventy thousand silver taels exactly! Thirty-seven Silver Notes in all, each a massive ten-thousand-tael note made of cotton paper! They fit into his palm.

Thick beyond measure, soft beyond measure.

Adding his one hundred and ten thousand in savings, the cash Liang Qu had on hand had soared straight to four hundred and eighty thousand! Nearly half a million!

Fist had burrowed away for three years, then stunned the world with a single cry! Solid.

Incomparably solid.

His heart beat lightly.

If he came across some treasure again, he would not have to do anything but stare helplessly.

The account books formed a thick stack.

Liang Qu did not open them.

He could not understand them.

Every trade had its masters. If the Zhang Clan and Li Family had deliberately falsified their books, how could an outsider like him, someone who did not even know how many mines the two families operated, spot anything suspicious?

Perhaps the last few major mines being worked in Fragrant Township County would run dry now. Even then, Fist could still profit from their "lingering echoes," but that would be a matter for more than a decade later.

This "one-shot deal" had brought such enormous profits that Liang Qu was thoroughly satisfied.

In life, one should seize what ought to be seized and let go of what ought to be let go. There was no need to wear oneself out.

Zhang Wenbao secretly studied Liang Qu's expression. Seeing the brightness in his eyes, he relaxed slightly.

Back when Liang Qu had first entered the Zhang residence, he had only recently