Who Said Glass Beads Could Be Exchanged for Houses?

Notting City. The noonday sun spilled across the streets paved with blue stone slabs.

Suddenly, the bustling crowd parted to both sides of the street.

Everyone's eyes went wide, as if they had glimpsed something unspeakable.

"Vroom—"

Accompanied by an extremely faint yet tech-laden electric motor hum, a Little Lamb was tearing through the busy district at a breakneck twenty-five kilometers per hour.

It was a six-year-old boy.

He wore a pair of tactical sunglasses that were clearly a size too big, carried a silver metal square case on his back, and his expression was stern.

His steed was a children's electric scooter with training wheels.

The body was a soft pink, and the front was emblazoned with a giant Peppa Pig.

To adapt to Notting City's cobblestone roads, engineers back on Earth had worked overnight to swap in off-road tires and top-tier off-road shock absorbers, even installing high-lumen tactical floodlights.

"001, please watch your speed. Drive recklessly, and your loved ones will weep!"

A worried voice from the command center observer came through the earpiece.

Su Yun expressionlessly rolled over a puddle and replied in a milky, calm tone:

"Relax, I'm a veteran driver—"

Ten minutes later.

Inside the largest general store in Notting City.

Su Yun parked his scooter at the entrance and strode in with confident steps.

At that very moment, in the command hall back on Earth.

Seated in the first row were over a dozen of the nation's top economic and historical scholars.

They stared fixedly at the big screen, notebooks already open, ready to record the first cross-dimensional primitive accumulation of capital in human history.

"According to Plan A,"

A white-haired old professor pushed up his glasses, his voice trembling.

"Drawing from the common experience of two hundred time-travel novels, glass craftsmanship in ancient dimensions is extremely backward. Glass is white gold! It's hard currency!"

"Exactly!"

Another expert added:

"The bag of glass marbles Su Yun brought from the Yiwu wholesale market is theoretically enough to buy half of Notting City! This will be a textbook case of dimensionality reduction strike!"

On the screen, Su Yun was already standing at the counter.

He pulled a handful of colorful glass marbles from his pocket and slammed them onto the table with a clatter.

"Boss, let's talk big business."

Su Yun's voice was childish but carried a weight of pressure:

"This kind of Western-region top-grade glass bead is an absolute rarity. Is it enough to trade for everything in this shop?"

The shopkeeper was wiping a table with a rag. He looked up at the marbles on the table.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Suddenly, the shopkeeper's face twisted into an expression like he was looking at an idiot. He pushed the marbles back toward Su Yun with the rag, disgusted:

"Shoo, shoo! Where's this brat from? Bringing these burnt scraps to cause trouble?"

"Scraps?"

Su Yun raised an eyebrow.

"Look closely. These are glass."

"Glass my ass!"

The shopkeeper casually pulled a cup from under the counter and slammed it onto the table:

"See this? This is a new-style water cup just released last week by Notting City's Li's Kiln. Two Copper Soul Coins each. Look at the clarity, then look at your beads—all bubbles and murky streaks! And the shape isn't even round! These are defective rejects from some apprentice's practice run, aren't they?"

Su Yun looked down.

The glass cup the shopkeeper had taken out was crystal clear, perfectly cut, refracting a rainbow of light in the sun. Its craftsmanship...

Completely outclassed the cheap, industrial-looking marbles in his hand.

"..."

Earth, command hall.

"Pfft—!"

The old professor who had just declared glass to be white gold sprayed a mouthful of strong tea directly onto the screen.

He didn't bother to wipe it off, staring dead-eyed at the crystal-clear otherworldly water glass on the display, his eyeballs nearly popping out.

"This is impossible... this isn't scientific!!"

The old professor shot to his feet, hands trembling as he pointed at the data screen, his voice cracking from extreme shock:

"This is the refractive index of lead glass! On Earth, to fire glass with this level of transparency and cut, you need an industrial furnace at a constant 1400 degrees and precision annealing processes! How can a society still in a feudal farming era achieve this? Are their laws of thermodynamics just for show?!"

"No! The model is wrong! The baseline parameters are all wrong!"

Another expert, specializing in ancient economic history, frantically flipped through the data Su Yun had sent back, drenched in sweat as he roared:

"We made an empiricist mistake! We measured their martial soul tree with Earth's tech tree! Soul power! It's soul power!"

He slammed an analysis report onto the table:

"A fire-attribute soul master can conjure 2000-degree heat with bare hands; a soul master with an eye skill can polish at the micron level! This isn't backward handicraft—it's a super-powered handicraft industry where everyone comes with their own high-precision machine tool!"

The entire expert group wailed in despair, the collapse of their faith.

"It's over... the industrial goods dumping model is completely shattered."

"Glass, soap, mirrors... these high-profit commodities reliant on technological gaps have no scarcity in a world where everyone has a martial soul!"

Lei Zhan stood at the back, watching this think tank that had been strategizing moments ago now trapped in a logical dead loop over a glass cup. He rubbed his temples helplessly.

Lei Zhan sighed and waved at his assistant behind him.

"This is why you can't trust books entirely. A scholar meets a soldier—reason can't win."

"Boss, Plan A is completely dead."

The assistant looked at the room full of financial tycoons and trade experts slumped in their chairs, some even needing oxygen, and said hoarsely:

"Su Yun is still waiting over there. Without money, he can't move an inch in that world."

Lei Zhan fell silent.

He looked at these top-tier minds who usually commanded the world's stage, now utterly defeated by the problem of earning the first bucket of gold in another world, their faces pale, eyes bloodshot.

After a long pause, Lei Zhan let out a deep sigh. The sharpness in his eyes faded, replaced by a more profound realization.

"Take the experts to rest, and arrange the best medical team. They did their best. The fault was in our decision-making direction."

"Wrong?" The assistant was taken aback.

"We were too arrogant."

Lei Zhan slowly walked to the massive electronic map, his fingers gently brushing over the dense clusters of lights:

"We always thought that supporting Su Yun required the sharpest brains, theories from the ivory tower. But we forgot—the expert team excels at macro-control, turning 1 into 100, adding icing to the cake."

Lei Zhan spun around sharply, his gaze burning:

"But Su Yun has nothing right now. What he needs is the hardest part—the breakthrough from '0 to 1'."

"The ones who can do that aren't usually the elites sitting in offices, but the ordinary people who crawl through the streets and alleys, who fight their way out of the mud of the marketplace."

Lei Zhan's voice rose, echoing through the command hall:

"Su Yun's backing should never have been just a few dozen experts, but the entire nation! Every single one of these 1.4 billion people has their own irreplaceable spark!"

"Whether academician or street vendor, behind Su Yun, they are all warriors of the state!"

The assistant felt a surge of blood rush to his head, straightening his back: "Boss, I understand! So now..."

"Activate Plan B!"

Lei Zhan's eyes sharpened, his hand sweeping with momentum:

"Since the macro-level barter of hard currency won't work, we'll go with the most down-to-earth approach! Services! Experience economy!"

"Go! Contact the relevant departments!"

"Bring in that guy who teaches people how to open shops and start from a street stall on short videos every day... that Brother Yong, who looks rustic but is full of practical street smarts!"

Lei Zhan paused, his tone turning solemn:

"Tell him not to be nervous, and not to feel insignificant. Today, the nation needs to borrow his street wisdom to win this fight!"

Three minutes later.

The door to the command center meeting room swung open.

A middle-aged man in a white T-shirt, escorted by two fully armed black-clad special agents, shuffled in trembling.

He was Brother Yong, the internet-famous food industry mentor with millions of followers.

But at this moment, this godfather who commanded the stage in his livestreams, ranting at merchants, was living through the darkest moment of his life.

Brother Yong looked at the room full of stern-faced big shots, then at the complex maps and flashing red lights on the walls. His legs began to shake violently, his knees knocking together, ready to flee.

He clutched his signature thermos cup tightly, trying to hide his trembling hands, but the lid still clattered with a "click-clack" sound.

It was over.

It's all over.

Brother Yong wailed in despair inside his heart.

I just talked a bit of big game during my livestream, didn't I?

I haven't done anything to offend heaven or earth!

Why did even the special operations unit get mobilized?

Are they gonna off me?

"Esteemed... esteemed leaders..."

Brother Yong's voice carried a sob as he immediately bowed at a ninety-degree angle.

"I confess! I'll confess everything! Please, give me some leniency!"

Lei Zhan was about to issue the mission orders when he heard this, paused for a moment, then revealed a "kind" smile.

He walked over, lifted Brother Yong like a chick, and sat him down in a chair, even thoughtfully unscrewing his thermos for him.

"Brother Yong, right? Don't be nervous. We didn't call you here to punish you or throw you in jail."

"Huh?"

Brother Yong held the thermos, tears still clinging to the corners of his eyes:

"You're not... not arresting me? Then... then what?"

Lei Zhan pointed at the massive screen covering the entire wall ahead.

On the screen, Su Yun was riding a pink electric scooter, looking dejected as he drifted through the streets of another world.

"The organization has taken note of your talent in the down-market, food-and-beverage site selection area..."

Lei Zhan braced his hands on the table, staring into Brother Yong's eyes.

"There's a special mission now. We want you to guide our operative in a medieval-like otherworld to get a street stall up and running. We need to earn that world's money."