What Kind of Thing Costs Eight Thousand and Sells for Fifty Thousand?

The school bell was practically an imperial pardon.

Chen De had been waiting for this moment all afternoon.

Starting from second period, he had been treated like some rare animal on display.

People came to chat with him during breaks.

People secretly took pictures during class.

Even when he went to the bathroom, people stared at him a little longer.

It was as if his face said, "Limited-time free exhibition. Come see it while you can."

The moment the bell rang, Chen De grabbed his backpack and bolted outside.

He moved as fast as a husky breaking free of its leash.

Jiang Ping's reaction was not slow either.

"Dezi, wait—"

He reached out to stop him.

But at that moment, the one advantage of Chen De's shrunken build finally showed itself.

Chen De bent at the waist and slipped beneath Jiang Ping's arm like a loach.

The movement was smooth and effortless.

Completed in one fluid motion.

Without slowing down, he took two steps at a time and rushed out of the classroom.

Then, at a speed utterly unbecoming of a high school student, he vanished into the crowd in the hallway.

Jiang Ping's hand remained frozen in the blocking position.

His whole body stiffened in place.

A classmate beside him glanced at him.

"How did he just... get through there?"

Jiang Ping lowered his hand.

"I'd like to know too."

He looked down at his arm.

Then he looked toward the door.

"He crawled under my arm."

"...Could he do that before?"

"He was five foot nine before. Crawl through what?"

"Oh."

The two fell silent for a second.

At the same time, they came to a conclusion that was not easy to say aloud.

Being short apparently had its benefits.

Though that benefit somehow sounded awfully sad.

Meanwhile.

Chen De was sprinting down the road.

One hundred and sixty yuan really was better than toughing it out.

At least now, he could run without feeling any discomfort anywhere on his body.

Other than the faint protests constantly coming from his backpack.

"Chen De."

Qubi poked its head out of the backpack, its voice faint and resentful.

"You squashed me just now."

"I didn't squash you."

"The corner of your math textbook was pressing on my tail. I endured it for two whole classes."

"Then move somewhere else. You're a cat—can't you change spots?"

"Your backpack is this big. Where am I supposed to go?"

"You don't have to stay in my backpack."

Chen De could not be bothered to argue with it and raced onward.

He ran all the way back to his front door.

He pulled out his key and inserted it into the lock. With a click, the door opened.

He flung his backpack onto the floor.

Then he collapsed spread-eagled on the sofa, perfectly recreating a salted fish that had lost all dreams.

He was exhausted.

The mental exhaustion far outweighed the physical kind.

Dealing with the curiosity of a bunch of high school students was harder than fighting two Fierce Calamities.

Bzz, bzz.

The phone in his backpack vibrated twice.

Chen De did not even want to move a finger.

"Qubi, go get my phone for me."

Qubi climbed out of the backpack and gave itself a shake.

"I'm a cat. I don't have hands."

"Carry it with your mouth."

"You don't mind me anymore?"

"Just go."

Qubi slowly carried the phone over in its mouth.

Plop.

The phone dropped beside Chen De's face.

Chen De wiped off the saliva with distaste, then unlocked it.

The latest text message appeared on the screen.

JD Express: Your package has arrived at the pickup station. Your pickup code is 511024. If you have any questions, please contact...

"The package is here."

Chen De muttered to himself.

Qubi rubbed its head against him and glanced at the screen.

"Are you going to get it?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?"

Chen De struggled through a salted-fish roll and climbed off the sofa.

He walked to the entryway and slipped on his shoes.

Just to be safe, he even dug out a baseball cap from the cabinet and pulled it onto his head.

He pulled the brim low.

Only a lock of grayish-white hair and his fair, delicate chin remained visible.

"This should work, right?"

Chen De checked himself in the mirror.

Qubi jumped onto the shoe cabinet.

"Dressed like that, you look even more like a girl group member trying to avoid paparazzi."

"Shut up."

Chen De opened the door and walked out.

The neighborhood pickup station was just around the corner downstairs.

At this hour in the evening, there were not many people inside.

The owner was a man in his fifties, wearing reading glasses as he played Landlord on his computer.

Chen De walked in and knocked on the counter.

"Boss, I'm here for a package."

The owner did not look up.

"Pickup code."

"511024."

The owner went into the back to search.

After a while, he carried over a package tightly wrapped in black plastic.

It even jolted when he set it on the table.

"Miss, this thing looks pretty heavy. Do you need—"

"No need."

Chen De cut him off.

"I can carry it back myself."

Chen De tucked the package under one arm.

It was indeed pretty heavy.

But he was still a magical girl who could chop apart Lesser Calamities barehanded.

Though he was not transformed right now, his basic physical abilities were far beyond those of an ordinary person.

What was carrying a package compared to that?

He turned and left.

The owner called out behind him.

"Take it slow, miss! Don't fall!"

Chen De halted.

He took a deep breath without looking back.

"Thanks, boss."

After leaving the pickup station, Qubi poked half its head out from behind his cap brim.

"You're getting called 'miss' more and more often."

"I know."

"At this rate, you could publish a book called A Hundred Situations Where I Was Called Miss."

"Qubi."

"Yeah?"

"One more word, and the thing inside this package will be replaced with your urn."

Qubi retreated behind the brim.

It knew when to stop.

Chen De carried the package home.

He took out his key and opened the door.

Then he set the package down on the living room floor.

Thud.

A dull sound.

He took out a utility knife and cut through the outer layer of black plastic.

Inside was a brown cardboard box.

He cut open the cardboard box too.

Foam packing peanuts scattered everywhere with a rustle.

Then the object inside was revealed.

Ten silver bars were neatly arranged in the box.

Each was about the length of a palm, with the words "Investment Silver Bar" engraved on it.

There was another line of small text underneath—"Purity 99.99%."

The packaging was exquisite, and the craftsmanship was refined.

They looked exactly like the kind displayed at bank counters.

Chen De crouched beside the box, feeling ten thousand question marks battling in his head.

"Qubi."

"Yeah?"

"I bought Mithril."

"Right."

"Mithril—the precious metal from the magical world, the kind with excellent magical conductivity."

"Right."

"Then tell me why it looks exactly like the silver bars my grandpa kept hidden under his bed?"

Qubi jumped to the side of the box and looked down at it.

"Because it is a silver bar."

"What do you mean, it is a silver bar?"

"The material base of Mithril is silver. It has simply been infused with magic."

"Look at the surface. Isn't there a faint silvery glow?"

Chen De leaned closer to look.

There really was.

If you didn't look closely, they were completely ordinary silver bars.

"So the Mithril you sold me... was essentially just silver bars?"

"Silver bars treated with magic."

"So I spent five thousand Magic Coins on ten silver bars?"

"Ten silver bars treated with magic."

"Can you stop adding qualifiers in front of it?!"

Chen De grabbed one of the silver bars.

It felt icy cold and reassuringly heavy.

He turned it over and examined the back.

There was even a manufacturer's stamp on it.

Some Precious Metals Co., Ltd.

The address was listed as Shenzhen.

"Qubi."

"Yeah."

"Magical-world precious metals, produced in Shenzhen?"

"Shenzhen is a great place. Its manufacturing industry is highly developed."

"I bought a magical item, and you shipped me goods from Shenzhen?"

"More accurately, it shipped from a warehouse in Shenzhen. The magical infusion was completed during transit."

"During transit? What infused it, the delivery guy's love?"

Qubi flicked his tail.

"Starwish Marketplace has its own logistics system. Packages pass through a magical field during delivery."

"Ordinary silver bars go in, Mithril comes out."

"Like a sterilizer cabinet."

"You can understand it that way."

Chen De put the silver bar back into the box.

He took a deep breath.

Then another deep breath.

"So I spent fifty thousand yuan on ten silver bars made in Shenzhen."

"Silver bars processed by a magical sterilizer cabinet."

"Qubi."

"Yeah."

"Do you know how much silver costs per gram these days?"

"I don't pay much attention to the precious metals market."

"I'll help you pay attention, then."

Chen De took out his phone and opened a browser.

He searched frantically for a while.

"Silver is currently around eight yuan per gram."

"One investment-grade silver bar is one hundred grams, worth around eight hundred yuan on the market."

"Ten of them, just over eight thousand."

"I spent five thousand Magic Coins, equivalent to fifty thousand yuan."

"To buy silver bars worth eight thousand yuan on the market."

Chen De put down his phone.

His expression was calm.

"Qubi, what's the profit margin for your marketplace?"

"That involves trade secrets—"

"Five hundred percent?"

"The cost of magical infusion is very high—"

"Five hundred percent..."

Qubi tucked his tail between his legs.

"You can't simply measure the value of magical items by the price of their raw materials..."

"Five hundred percent."

"...More or less."

Chen De closed his eyes.

"Can I return them?"

"Clause—of the contract—"

"No refunds, right?"

"You have a great memory."

"My memory is good because you've ripped me off enough times."

Chen De took out the silver bars one by one.

He lined them up on the coffee table.

All ten silver bars sat in a neat row, gleaming silver beneath the lights.

Honestly, they looked pretty nice.

They just looked like they were about to be taken to a pawnshop.

"So how exactly do I use these things?"

Qubi jumped onto the coffee table and tapped one of the bars with his paw.

"While transformed, hold the Mithril in your hand and use magic to guide it into your armaments."

"Your gun and knife will absorb the Mithril's properties, becoming sturdier and allowing magic to flow through them more smoothly."

"Simply put, it gives your weapons a coating."

"A coating?"

"Right. You can think of it as weapon enhancement."

"And once it's enhanced, the silver bar is gone?"

"Gone. They're one-time consumables."

Chen De stared at the ten silver bars.

Fifty thousand yuan.

One-time use.

Gone.

He felt like his heart was bleeding.

No, it was spraying blood.

"Qubi."

"Yeah."

"What happens if I don't use Mithril to enhance them?"

"Nothing happens."

"Then why did I buy it?"

"Because enhanced weapons become a little more powerful, and their magic consumption decreases proportionally."

"In the long run, it saves quite a bit of magic."

"Saving magic means saving stamina, and saving stamina means saving your life."

Chen De fell silent.

That argument about saving his life was genuinely persuasive.

He only had one life.

Trading fifty thousand yuan for his life was a bargain no matter how he calculated it.

Though the day-to-day upkeep costs for that life were already pretty outrageous.

"Fine."

Chen De accepted his fate.

"So should I use them now?"

"You can. Just do it directly after transforming."

Chen De stood up.

He glanced at the curtains.

He pulled them shut tightly.

Then he checked the door.

It was locked.

"Transform."

A flash of white light.

The one-meter-sixty-five boy in the living room vanished.

In his place stood a girl barely over one meter fifty, with long white hair and a pure white dress.

Chen De looked down at himself.

A dress.

Thigh-high stockings.

A bow.

He could no longer be bothered to complain.

Habit was a terrifying thing.

He casually summoned his gun and short blade.

The pure white weapons glowed faintly in his hands.

Then he picked up a silver bar.

"What do I do next?"

"Hold the bar, pour magic into it, and guide it into the weapon."

"Like manual welding."

"I've never welded anything."

"Then it's like... kneading modeling clay?"

"Can you give me a more normal analogy?"

"Imagine your magic is hot water, the silver bar is a sugar cube, and the weapon is a cup."

"Pour the hot water onto the sugar cube. It melts and flows into the cup."

Chen De froze for a moment.

"That analogy is actually pretty fitting."

"Sometimes I can do that."

Chen De took a deep breath.

He focused his attention on the silver bar in his hand.

Magic seeped from his palm.

The luster on the bar's surface began to change.

The once-cold metal gradually grew warm.

Then, like melted mercury, it flowed along his fingers toward the gun in his right hand.

The silver liquid spread along the patterns on the gun's body.

The patterns lit up.

The entire gun's sheen changed from pure white to silvery white.

A subtle change.

But it felt completely different in his hand.

Lighter.

More natural to handle.

As though the weapon itself had come alive.

"Can you feel it?"

"Yeah."

Chen De raised the gun and looked it over.

A faint silver halo had appeared over its body.

Pretty.

Expensive, but pretty.

Five thousand yuan for one layer of glow.

The magical world's gilding service was even more predatory than the real world's.

He picked up another silver bar and did the same to the blade in his left hand.

The silver liquid melted into the blade.

The edge became even sharper.

A liquid sheen flowed along the blade's edge.

The two silver bars were used up.

Both the gun and the knife had completed their first enhancement.

Eight bars remained.

"What about the rest? Use them all at once?"

"Not recommended. Pouring in too much at once would be more than the weapons could withstand."

"I recommend splitting it into four or five sessions, using two bars each time."

"So these ten bars can enhance them five times."

"Yes."

"What happens after five times?"

"Buy more."

"Another fifty thousand."

"Yes."

Chen De put the remaining silver bars back into the box.

He put away the weapons.

Then he canceled his transformation.

As the white light faded, he turned back into a young man in oversized loungewear.

He dropped onto the sofa.

He stared at the empty cardboard box and scattered foam on the coffee table.

"Qubi."

"Mm."

"I suddenly understand those people who live paycheck to paycheck."

"You're not living paycheck to paycheck yet."

"Mentally, I already am."