Look, a Plane
Pallas's Cat "Mahua" craned his neck and leaned over to sniff the pigeon-egg-sized tanzanite with curiosity. Damn, it reeked of his owner's signature greasy smell. He glanced at Lu Sanhu, his face openly full of disdain.
It wasn't dried fish. Why was he gripping it so tightly? Was his brain fried?
"You... why did you get so much? Are you opening a jewelry store?"
Lu Sanhu naturally couldn't make sense of it.
The medical industry and the jewelry industry were worlds apart, with no chance of intersecting.
He'd brought back some local specialties for himself, spending just over 200,000 yuan on several large bags of rough gemstones. At most, they weighed a pound or two, but that was already more than anyone else had.
Little Tusi Zabu had no fewer relatives and friends than Lu Sanhu, but few of them liked jewelry. The villagers preferred silverware in all sorts of styles. It was just as shiny, but more affordable. He'd picked up thirty or forty small gemstones, the largest no bigger than a peanut and the smallest about the size of a mung bean. They wouldn't need much polishing before they could be used as decorations. There wasn't a single diamond among them; they were mostly worthless spinel, tourmaline, and garnet, and even fluorite, cheaper than cabbage.
Red, blue, green, and purple—they were certainly pretty, but nowhere near expensive. Their sentimental value mattered more. After all, they'd gone abroad for the first time, traveling so far to this remote part of Africa's hinterland. The experiences they'd had over half a month could easily fill a thrilling novel.
All the gemstones everyone else had entrusted Ye Tong to bring back home through the country's special channels—including those belonging to Lu Sanhu and Zabu—probably didn't amount to a fraction