Turning Stone to Gold, Paper to Silver

Yesterday, the young master of the Chen family, owners of the Chen Family Sauce Shop in Mingde Ward, held his wedding banquet.

Guests were seated in high spirits, and the feast was in full swing, when in walked Rogue Wang.

Everyone for ten miles around knew exactly what kind of man he was. The servants wanted to chase him off, but this rogue had no shame; he marched right up, grinning and offering congratulations to the groom, determined not to leave.

As the old saying goes, one shouldn't strike a smiling face, and on such a joyous wedding day, it wouldn't have been appropriate to resort to violence. Seeing that the rogue just wanted to crash the banquet for a free meal and some wine, they decided to let him eat his fill and be on his way.

But could Rogue Wang really be so simple?

A man who kicked down widows' doors and dug up the graves of those without heirs—a man filled with nothing but malice—would he really just come for a meal?

That would be a gross underestimation of his "professional" capabilities.

Rogue Wang entered the banquet hall, found a small plate, scraped up two pounds of pig head meat, covered it with a cloth, and sought out Master Chen.

Master Chen was chatting with a table of local gentry when Rogue Wang approached with his plate of meat.

"Congratulations, Master Chen!"

This was his way of opening the path; once he offered auspicious words, it was hard to drive him away without inviting bad luck.

The gentlemen at the table were annoyed to see him. Everyone there knew his reputation—a bully who harassed men and women alike and threw buckets of excrement into people's homes—but they couldn't kick him out. He had, after all, come to offer "congratulations."

If this were a roadside tea stall frequented by rougher folk, things would be different; they would have beaten him half to death the moment he became an eyesore, regardless of what he had to say.

But here, at the wedding of the Chen Family Sauce Shop's young master, the guests were wealthy merchants and local gentry. They were people of status who had to maintain their dignity, leaving them unable to lower themselves to his level.

This is the reality of a gentleman versus a scoundrel: the gentleman adheres to rules, while the scoundrel has no shame.

"I've come to offer my congratulations to you all. I specifically braised this pig head meat, and today I brought it for you gentlemen to have a taste."

Master Chen thought to himself, I have a table full of fine wine and dishes, and there is already pig head meat on the table—why would I eat yours?

But before he could speak, Rogue Wang skillfully sliced the meat with a small knife and placed a piece on each of their plates.

"Taste it! Please, have a taste! It's delicious, hey!"

With the meat already on their plates, it was difficult to refuse. Master Chen figured he might as well just try it.

After one slice, Master Chen was puzzled: why did it taste exactly like the pig head meat already on his table?

Of course it did; the despicable Rogue Wang had simply pilfered it from another table. It had likely all been braised in the same pot, so how could the taste be any different?

"Master, is the meat to your liking?" That shameless Rogue Wang was actually asking for feedback.

"Good. Yes, the flavor is quite fine." What else could Master Chen say? He had to be polite.

"Wonderful! I'm glad you like it, Master! I'm waiting for my reward!"

Rogue Wang bowed, extending both hands high above his head to beg for a tip.

Master Chen and his companions stared at him, thinking, How can you be so shameless? Did we say we wanted to eat it? You forced us to taste it, and now you want a tip?

But they were trapped. They had eaten the meat; if they didn't pay, this rogue would lie down on the ground, rolling and wailing that these wealthy men had eaten his food for free. Would the wedding be able to continue? He had no shame, but they still had reputations to maintain.

"Fine. How much of a reward do you want?"

"Heh, Master Chen, two hundred taels of silver."

A thief's bite cuts to the bone.

Rogue Wang didn't know the meaning of embarrassment. He demanded two hundred taels for a few slices of pig head meat—by the current prices of the Great Jing Dynasty, that was enough to start ten pig farms.

Was he trying to serve up Marshal Tianpeng himself?

"No money. Let's go to the magistrate."

"Master Chen, why say such things? Tell you what—seeing as it's your young master's big day, I'll bring you some good fortune. You give me twenty taels, and I'll count the rest as my wedding gift."

No one with a shred of decency could say such a thing: two hundred taels for a piece of pork, and he would graciously "gift" the remainder.

A man like this, if thrown into a pack of starving dogs, would be torn apart and devoured, bones and all, leaving only his heart behind.

Why?

Because even dogs eat filth, but they wouldn't touch his heart—they'd find it too dirty.

Master Chen didn't want to bicker with such a scoundrel; he was disgusted just looking at him. Twenty taels might be a sum a commoner would save for two or three years, but to these merchants and gentry, it was nothing.

"Fine. I don't have much silver on me, so I'll write you a note. You can go to the sauce shop to collect it."

Master Chen wrote the note, eager to dismiss the rogue. Having successfully extorted his first payment, Rogue Wang happily skipped off to the shop to exchange it for cash.

Little did he know, the shop had just hired a new manager—a distant relative of Master Chen. He was a former caravan guard, a man of martial arts, broad-shouldered and rough-hewn.

This man didn't know Rogue Wang. He watched as this disheveled fellow swaggered in, acting as if he owned the world, and presented the note for payment.

When he asked what it was for and heard that twenty taels were being demanded for a slice of pork, the manager scoffed. This is just extortion. He refused to pay.

When Rogue Wang heard he wouldn't be paid, he wouldn't have it. After some shouting, the manager tried to throw him out, and Rogue Wang started a physical struggle. But how could he win against a man trained in martial arts?

After a few shoves, he was sent sprawling to the ground. The fall ignited his temper, and he whipped out the knife he'd used to cut the meat.

"I'll kill you!"

Rogue Wang hadn't actually intended to hurt anyone. Being a rogue meant alternating between soft and hard tactics to bully people; he had no stomach for murder. He was merely brandishing the knife to intimidate the man into handing over the money.

Yet he hadn't expected the people of the underworld to be far more ruthless than him.

Seeing him brandish a blade, the man parried with a backhand motion and thrust it forward.

Snap. The knife returned exactly the way it had come, burying itself straight into Rogue Wang's heart.

The bystanders were stunned, and Rogue Wang himself was left bewildered; looking at the blade protruding from his chest, his hands trembled as he still managed to speak:

"That'll be five thousand taels!"

With a final gasp, the corpse hit the ground.

Rogue Wang, the notorious scoundrel of Shallow Water Pier, was dead—and even in death, he was still obsessed with extorting others.

The old saying goes: forgive a man once, and there will always be a second time.

This rogue was greedy beyond measure; one cannot afford to be patient or conciliatory with such people. If you take one step back, they will advance ten. Such evil men can only be dealt with by someone even more ruthless.

Later, when the yamen officials arrived and saw that the deceased was Rogue Wang, they couldn't help but clap and cheer.

The bailiffs and constables all knew this scoundrel was a menace, but had no pretext to arrest him; now that he had been killed, it was truly a service to the people.

Since Rogue Wang had been the first to draw a blade and injure someone today, and the shopkeeper had acted in legitimate self-defense with witnesses from the sauce guild present, the law dictated no charges.

The Lantern of Life finished its spin, and the life story of the corpse Lin Shou had sewn was fully recorded in the Record of Selling Corpses.

The Yin-Yang Abacus clattered, determining the price based on the Heaven, Earth, Profound, and Yellow grades.

The Record of Selling Corpses set the price for the body: Yellow-Grade Third-Class.

Lin Shou received a "Corpse-Selling" reward.

A paper-crafted silver ingot, Water-Pattern Honeycomb Kidney Silver, with the character for "Greed" embedded within, feeling heavy in the hand.

Greed-Abstinence Silver.

The Sutra of the Eight Great Awakenings states that the three Buddhist poisons—greed, anger, and ignorance—are the roots of suffering. Life and death are exhausting, all stemming from greed; the heart is never satisfied, always seeking more, thereby increasing one's sins.

This Greed-Abstinence Silver was the manifestation of human greed.

Lin Shou rose to fetch a small sandalwood incense burner, lit the paper Greed-Abstinence Silver with a candle flame, and as the curling smoke entered his nose, complex and eerie Buddhist doctrines flooded his mind.

Greed, anger, and ignorance; the seven emotions and six desires; the precepts of the Buddha; the three thousand worldly vanities; causes and conditions arise and pass; all phenomena are empty...

The next day, the horizon paled as the rooster heralded the dawn.

Lin Shou, who had sat in meditation like an old monk all night, suddenly opened his eyes, the worldly greed in his gaze completely extinguished.

He, had attained enlightenment.

He casually picked up some rice paper to craft, and before long, the floor was covered in gold and silver ingots that shimmered brilliantly, clattering as he stepped on them.

Turning stone into gold, crafting paper into silver.