A Knock at Midnight, and a Second Fat Sheep at the Door

Dahe Long swallowed his calculations and smiled even more obsequiously.

The flesh of his cheeks bunched into folds of sincerity so exaggerated they looked fake.

Like a fly that had caught the scent of a golden paradise, he rubbed his hands together and waited eagerly for the young god of wealth before him to answer.

Ye, meanwhile, pretended to glance over the ore.

The ore sand in the crate was gray, mixed with gravel, and still had damp soil stuck to its surface.

Ye barely gave it a look. He swept the wooden crate aside, sending a few grains of inferior ore sand rolling through a crack and onto the floor.

"Who wants this junk you've got on hand? It's taking up space."

Dahe Long's heart sank. Was the deal about to fall through?

Beads of cold sweat instantly seeped from his greasy temples.

He looked at the ore sand on the floor, then at the mountain of two million in banknotes on the table, giving off its enticing scent of ink. It felt as though someone had seized his heart and squeezed.

Fall through?

Absolutely not!

If he let this outrageously wealthy mark walk out the door, his dream of taking the money and running would be over.

Those furious miners outside might tear his bones out and boil them for soup tomorrow!

"S-sir..." Dahe Long's Adam's apple bobbed violently. Panic swarmed through him.

He frantically calculated how much profit he could still squeeze from the deal, then steeled himself and clenched his back teeth.

So be it. Even if he had to take a smaller cut, he had to keep this god of wealth here!

He edged half a step forward and bent even lower. His dry lips parted several times before he finally forced out an offer.