Gold, silver, jewels...
Cart after cart of minecarts returned fully loaded. For the first time, Jiang Han truly "owned" this much liquid currency.
"There are benefits to staying in the Dead Magic Plane for a while, especially in a place pieced together from so many abandoned city fragments."
Jiang Han had to admit it was true. Just look at this haul.
It was likely more than an ordinary Archwitch might earn in over a decade, yet Xu Fangying had accumulated it all just like that.
For fairness' sake, part of this gold and silver wealth still had to be shared with Du Lingxuan and Histeria.
This was a witch's fairness.
"Sis-sis-sister, where did you get all this?"
Du Lingxuan was so shocked she could barely speak.
Beside her plump thighs sat a three-layer stack of wooden crates. Inside were silver and some kind of gold-plated shell casings—her own haul, which she had brought back to share with her sisters.
It was no small harvest, but compared with cartload after cartload of goods Jiang Han had transported back, the difference was like that between a great carriage and a little cart.
Naturally, Du Lingxuan was utterly stunned. Her nine cat tails flailed wildly, even sending two Cat Lamps flying.
She waved her hands. "Sister, sister! We need to revise our harvest contract."
When witches spoke of revisions, it was not something as sordid as "You got more, so I want a bigger share." More often, it meant voluntarily lowering one's own share.
What long-lived species gained was not the familiar utopian indulgence and decay, but a deeper understanding of worldly relations—an understanding that "it is easier to live when long-lived species are more sincere and friendly toward one another."
Jiang Han had naturally already struck the right attitude. She ran