Boasting of a Precious Saber to Buy on Credit, His Composure Shattered at the Rattle of an Abacus
She pushed the paper over.
"Sir, you have ordered 1,000 catties, totaling 873 strings of cash. Due to the uncertain situation in Dali, the merchant guild needs to collect double the risk deposit, totaling 2,619 strings of cash."
Wang Batian stared at the paper, remaining silent for a long time.
Although he didn't know many words, he recognized the last string of numbers.
More than two thousand strings of cash.
The gold leaves and silver coins he brought with him on this trip were at most enough to exchange for a little over eight hundred strings of cash.
Wang Batian's face flushed a deep purplish-red, like pig liver.
The servants that Gu Moran had arranged nearby had already begun to whisper among themselves.
"Oh, so you're just putting on a show because you don't have the money!"
"Absolutely! A thousand pounds at the top of one's head? That's hilarious!"
"He really does seem like he's never seen much of the world."
These words, like countless tiny needles, pricked his tense back.
Damn it! I've lived for over twenty years and never been so humiliated as I am today.
But his dignity wouldn't allow him to bow his head and admit poverty.
Well, this is the only option left.
He suddenly pulled up the collar of his slightly worn black outer robe, almost burying the lower half of his face in shadow, striking a pose that he considered the most aloof, the most down-and-out, and the most imbued with the vicissitudes of a wandering knight-errant.
He slammed the heavy black iron sword, which was about half a person's height, onto the floor with a loud thud, the heavy thud making the tea drinkers at the next table shudder.
He lowered his voice, deliberately drawing out his words, and spoke slowly to Su Yao in front of him in the tone of recounting a distant legend.
"Money is just an external thing; I, Wang, don't rely on it when I travel the world."
He held the hilt of his sword with one hand, and with the other hand, he flicked it back with great elegance, causing a slight breeze to rise from his robe sleeve.
"My sword is named ' Mountain Severer,' weighing 108 jin. It was forged by a master craftsman from the North, who spent three years forging it from meteorite iron. Its blade has drunk the blood of thirteen swordsmen from the Western Regions, and its back has withstood the weight of ten-thousand-ton rocks from the miasma forests of the Southern Frontier."
Years ago, I fought the " Snow Mountain Flying Eagle " for three days and three nights atop the Qilian Mountains, and in the end, it was with this very blade that I severed his head.
He paused, waiting for the other person to show a look of shock or admiration, so that he could then suggest resolving the issue using the rules of the martial arts world, such as a fight or leaving a token to be returned later.
To everyone's surprise, Su Yao didn't even lift her eyelids, as if what he had just said wasn't some earth-shattering secret of the martial arts world, but rather that Aunt Wang next door had lost a chicken.
Her fingertips moved swiftly across the ebony abacus, producing a series of crisp, clear sounds. The sound was neither hurried nor slow, yet it was like a series of slaps, precisely landing on Wang Batian's burning face.
As the crackling sound subsided, Su Yao pushed the sheet of Xuan paper covered with numbers forward two inches. Her cool gaze fell on Wang Batian through her veil, her tone as calm as if she were asking about the weather.
"Have you finished speaking, sir?"
Wang Batian choked, all the heroic deeds he had prepared stuck in his throat.
Su Yao stretched out her slender finger and tapped it on the paper.
"It seems you don't have enough money and would like to use another payment method. Are you planning to pawn this seemingly powerful ' Mountain Severer ' sword here?"
Su Yao raised her eyes, her gaze lingering on Wang Batian's face for less than two breaths behind her veil before lowering them again. She flicked the abacus beads twice with her fingertips, pushing the accounting paper forward two inches.
"Sir, your knife is very powerful." Her voice was unhurried, as if reciting a diary entry, "But the knife cannot be used to offset the payment, while the horse can be used as a discount."
As for swords, pawnshops also accept them, but the valuations at pawnshops in Yi Prefecture are always low. A martial artist's sword is worth at most 300 strings of cash, which is still far short of 2,619 strings of cash.
Wang Batian's "aloofness and arrogance" held up for about three breaths in the face of this string of numbers.
Then.
He felt the muscles in his face begin to twitch uncontrollably, as if someone had buried two live loaches under his cheekbones.
"You--"
"Sir, would you like to use horses as collateral, or pay a deposit first and settle the balance in installments?" Su Yao moved the abacus to the left, making room in the center of the table, and then took out a new blank sheet of Xuan paper from her sleeve and laid it out. "If you choose installments, the merchant will charge an additional 1.5% monthly interest, and a guarantor's letter will be attached."
When Wang Batian heard the words "guarantee document," his temples throbbed three times.
He's from Dali, where is he going to find a guarantor?
He wanted to speak, but his throat felt like it was stuffed with dry grass; he couldn't swallow it or spit it out.
Meng Jiuning spoke up from the side, her voice very soft.
"Brother Wang, how about we postpone buying it?"
This statement was even more ruthless than Su Yao's calculations.
Wang Batian turned to look at her, the veins at the corners of his eyes bulging, his lips twitching several times before finally squeezing out through gritted teeth, "If I say I'll buy it, I definitely will."
Su Yao's gaze fell on his right hand holding the knife, paused for a moment, then she put the abacus to her side and said in the exact same tone as when she quoted the price earlier, "If it's inconvenient for you to settle the bill right now, the Snow Crystal Powder we tried today will be on us. We can discuss the rest another day."
She stood up, turned around with the abacus in her arms, and her skirt traced an arc at the foot of the chair.
"Waiter, please refill this table's tea and bring two plates of pepper-salt sesame cakes."
Wang Batian stared at her back, his fingers clenching the hilt of his sword until his knuckles cracked. A surge of heat rushed from his dantian to the top of his head, and his Fourth Rank Middle Stage internal energy surged through his meridians. Even he himself was unsure what he would do next.
The only thing he was certain of was that, in the twenty-six years since his birth, he had never been looked down upon by a woman.
All my lofty aspirations have been swept away by the eastward flow of time.
His pitiful self-esteem was completely crushed and trampled into the mud.
He panicked, his face turning purple with urgency, and the powerful internal energy within his dantian could no longer be suppressed, exploding with a bang.
This is outrageous!
The sound of the knife being drawn was very short, like the cry of a crane that had been cut off.
Wang Batian the hilt with both hands, raising the Xuan Tie Heavy Blade high above his head. He channeled his Fourth Rank true energy into the blade, unleashing a visible grayish-white blade aura that sent the Xuan paper and broken tea leaves on the table flying into the air.
He aimed at the rosewood table covered with numbers, raised it high, and prepared to chop it down.
I may not be able to afford anything, but I can certainly chop up a table.
Just then, Pu Yunshan, who had been prepared all along, suddenly appeared.
no!
That table is made of good wood.
During this period, Pu Yunshan spent his time in Yi Prefecture repairing roofs, chopping firewood, sawing roof beams, and planing door panels. In addition, he made more than a dozen benches and two pairs of storage shelves for the Foot Care Hall. Pu Yunshan has developed a morbid instinct to recognize wood.
He can even smell the age and origin of the wood from three steps away.
The rosewood desk in front of him has fine, oily grain and a thick patina. It must have been used for at least twenty or thirty years. If sold outside, it would be worth at least twenty strings of cash, which is equivalent to several months' salary for him.
He pushed off with his feet, leaping forward, and thrust the wide-backed wooden saw he was carrying in his left hand horizontally forward, its densely packed teeth meeting the grayish-white blade energy head-on.