Waste paper? Painting? Turning waste into treasure!

A customer saw a slip of paper no bigger than his palm being taken from an overcoat pocket and presented to him with both hands.

"What can you possibly draw on such a small piece of paper?" The man, with a hint of disappointment, took the slip and examined it. He spent several minutes doing so.

Only when the small slip of paper was in his hands did he realize its peculiarity. The paper was thin yet tough, completely unlike ordinary parchment or papyrus. The crisp sound it made when shaken, the fine texture he felt as his fingertips brushed its surface—all signs pointed to its extraordinary nature.

The paper, a deep azure hue, depicted an intricately carved, ornate window on both sides. It reminded him of the floor-to-ceiling windows he had seen in temples and grand manors. Scattered across the paper were strange runes of various sizes, unlike any he had ever seen before.

"The artistry isn't bad, just too small a canvas," the man finally spoke after his appraisal. "But this material and the coloring technique used in this painting are truly unprecedented."

"You'd be seeing ghosts if you'd seen a twenty Euro note like this before," Zhang Yuan thought to himself, but out loud he said, "This is an artwork I brought from my hometown. I usually use it as a bookmark in my books, and I only have two left."

The man continued to scrutinize the banknote in his hand without comment. "Name your price. This item is worthy of my collection."

Success! But Zhang Yuan had no idea what price to set. Unaware of the cost of living or prices in Faerûn, he regretted not visiting other shops to get a sense of the market.

"This is a memento from my hometown, and I never really thought about selling it. As a cultured noble like yourself, you surely won't overlook the value of this painting."

Although his identity hadn't been revealed, his impeccably neat and smooth attire, akin to silk, and the cane in his hand, adorned with a green gem the size of a coin, were certainly beyond the reach of ordinary commoners. Even if some adventurers or merchants could afford such things, they would lack the refined taste and temperament that comes with accumulated experience.

Besides, being polite never hurt anyone. Would he really fly into a rage just because I flattered him?

The "noble" Zhang Yuan mentioned neither denied nor corrected him. He turned his head and gestured to the middle-aged man beside him.

The middle-aged man, who appeared to be a butler, took out five gold coins from his waist pouch and handed them over. He said meaningfully, "This is a price that could buy top-quality pearls. You should be grateful for the Claude Wolf family's generosity."

Sensing the veiled warning in the man's words, Zhang Yuan didn't dwell on it. He politely complimented the man's magnanimity, feeling that the surname sounded familiar.

After seeing the young noble and his retinue depart, Zhang Yuan clutched the gold coins tightly in his palm. His fist, now in his pocket, refused to loosen. In this unfamiliar world, these few gold coins were his lifeline.

Though he might spend lavishly in games, tossing around thousands or tens of thousands of gold coins without batting an eye, the butler's tone just now indicated that gold coins were not so cheap in this world.

Just as he was preparing to treat himself to a hamburger after his big earnings, the young painter, whom he had ignored the entire time, suddenly lunged at him.

Thinking he was being robbed, Zhang Yuan was startled and instinctively placed his hand on the hilt of his dog-leg knife, ready to defend his meager savings. How dare a penniless painter get greedy and turn into a bandit?

However, things weren't as he imagined. The lunging painter placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him as he pleaded, "Do you have any more of those paintings? Can I just have a look, just one look!"

Zhang Yuan frowned and pushed his hand away, his tone slow and firm. "These are the only mementos I brought from my hometown. Selling even one has made me feel bad enough. I'm sorry, but I can't let you examine them." Considering the impoverished appearance of the penniless painter, Zhang Yuan didn't believe he could offer a good price.

To his surprise, the poor painter spoke astonishingly, "I am Archmage Ramasith's nephew!" Zhang Yuan, who had stopped in his tracks, looked the painter up and down meticulously, from head to toe, with confusion. But no matter how he looked, the painter just seemed like a down-on-his-luck art vendor with no distinguishing features.

"I've heard of Ramasith's great name. If you're his nephew, why are you in such a state?" Zhang Yuan asked directly, without mincing words.

The painter rubbed his hands together, a smile of embarrassment mixed with a hint of fawning appearing on his face. "Although I am his nephew, our family has a vast lineage, and I'm not particularly significant."

"Moreover, if you've heard anything about his reputation, you should know that my uncle is not a generous person." Even though the painter was trying to restrain himself, a trace of resentment was unavoidable in his tone.

Oh? This is interesting. Zhang Yuan began to scheme, realizing there was more to this than met the eye.

Ramasith, that old geezer, was a minor boss in the game. He wasn't a good person, but his mage tower contained quite a few treasures. Although Zhang Yuan was just a novice, what if? What if he could grow strong enough to have designs on him one day?

Besides, it was a move with no immediate purpose, and paving a path wouldn't hurt.

Of course, the current Zhang Yuan would never dare to cross Ramasith. Regardless of whether this guy was a true archmage, he wouldn't dare to underestimate a spellcaster who owned a mage tower within the city.

With his mind racing, Zhang Yuan maintained a calm expression and asked the painter, "You say you are Archmage Ramasith's nephew? What is your name? What proof do you have?"

"My name is Wiles. I don't have any proof, but Ramasith has several apprentices who handle the sale of magic items, and they know me."

Without rushing to verify his words, Zhang Yuan took out a pink ten Euro note and handed it over, pondering whether this casually formed connection could be of any use.

It wasn't that he valued these notes immensely; it was more of a spur-of-the-moment, waste-not want-not situation. If he could establish a connection for purchasing magic items, that would be great. "Are you familiar with those apprentices? Could you get me a discount when I purchase magic items?" Zhang Yuan asked with anticipation.

Wiles, engrossed in studying the banknote, replied without looking up, "No chance. If I had that kind of influence, I wouldn't be out here selling paintings."

Stumped for words, Zhang Yuan could only wait for him to finish admiring the banknote, then asked him in a seemingly admiring tone, "Living by your passion, you must live a free and unrestrained life, right?"

"Do I look unrestrained to you? I can barely earn enough for meals every day!" Wiles retorted irritably.

"That's where you're wrong. How can the value of art be measured by money?" Zhang Yuan's nonchalant remark almost choked Wiles.

Unable to speak for a long time, he could only widen his eyes and glare intently at Zhang Yuan.

The thick-skinned Zhang Yuan chuckled dismissively and invited, "It's already evening. I made a bit of money here today thanks to you. How about I treat you to dinner?"