Chapter 41 – Ripples

Since the items they brought were placed in Liu Qu’s display cabinet, the sales results were much better than expected. By the afternoon, three to five buyers had come to inquire about the prices, and none of them dared to lowball too much due to Master Liu’s reputation. The Jade Maitreya was even sold for a high price of 250,000 yuan to a collector who admired Zigang jade carvings. By the end of the exchange meeting, Wei Yang had pocketed an additional 400,000 yuan, making it a quite fruitful day.

Liu Qu himself, however, didn’t seem to care much about this small sum of money. He was more interested in pestering Zhang Xiuqi with questions about the elusive concept of “fortune.” But the Little Celestial Master’s response rate was comparable to the drop rate of a rare item in a game—out of a hundred questions, he might answer one. Yet, Liu Qu, with the patience of a master jade carver, kept asking tirelessly all afternoon, even enthusiastically inviting Zhang Xiuqi to visit his jade carving studio. If Wei Yang hadn’t intervened, the story of “sharing a bed” might have been reenacted.

As for Zhang Xiuqi himself, whether it was due to the influence of the Iron Buddha or the lack of suitable items at the exchange meeting, he remained somewhat silent throughout the afternoon. Aside from sticking close to Wei Yang, he didn’t point out any noteworthy items. Wei Yang didn’t mind this much, as he believed that good luck had its limits and it was better to save it for when it was needed.

After the event ended and Liu Qu was sent off, Wei Yang specifically called Heipi to inform him about the day’s events. While the incident wasn’t major, it wasn’t minor either, and it was only right to let the adults in the Liu family know about it.

To Wei Yang’s surprise, after hearing the details, Heipi actually laughed first: “Ah Yang, don’t worry. This isn’t the first time Xiao Qu’er has encountered something like this. There are plenty of people with a bit of power or money who like to show off, but our Liu family isn’t an easy target. Whoever comes will have to kneel and lick our boots. The Eight Legions jade carving that Xiao Qu’er has been meticulously working on for two years has attracted the attention of at least a hundred people. It’s not something those small fries from Jin Province can covet. However, you should be careful. If they can’t deal with Xiao Qu’er, they might take their anger out on your Jieshui Studio. If you encounter any problems you can’t handle, just call me.”

With such confidence from the Liu family, Wei Yang naturally felt reassured. He drove home with the Little Celestial Master. When they arrived, the single bed he had ordered a few days ago had just been delivered. It was a finely carved nanmu bed that matched the rest of the furniture, seamlessly blending with the desk and bookshelf in the study. Wei Yang happily had the workers set up the bed and went to the furniture store to buy a high-quality mattress. After tidying up the study, he neatly arranged the bedding on the new bed.

“Brother Qi, this bed is very comfortable. You can rest here after finishing your talismans, so we don’t have to squeeze into the same bed,” Wei Yang said proudly, patting the mattress. Of course, according to the principles of hospitality, he should have taken the smaller bed and let Zhang Xiuqi have the larger one, but the Little Celestial Master’s sleeping posture made giving him a big bed a complete waste.

Zhang Xiuqi looked somewhat confused, as if he didn’t understand why his bedding had been moved to this bed. But since the small bed was placed right behind the desk and Wei Yang was sitting on it with a smile, it seemed as if the small bed was prepared for him. Seeing Wei Yang’s smile, the Little Celestial Master’s expression softened, and he nodded obediently before returning to the desk to continue drawing talismans.

With such an easy “consensus” reached, Wei Yang couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. He nonchalantly walked behind Zhang Xiuqi and peeked at what he was drawing. Noticing that the talismans had changed, he couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Brother Qi, aren’t you going to draw Soul Stabilizing Talismans anymore?”

Wei Yang wasn’t fully aware of the true side effects of the Soul Stabilizing Talisman, but Zhang Xiuqi himself had a vague understanding. At some point, he no longer wanted to use the Soul Stabilizing Talisman to stabilize his soul. Compared to the relentless pursuit of evil spirits or the intense emotions that filled his body, he preferred to stay by this person’s side in a daze—less clear-headed, but able to sense those inexplicable feelings that he found comforting.

Shaking his head gently, Zhang Xiuqi replied, “No need.”

This answer wasn’t something his uncle had taught him; in fact, it was completely contrary to his uncle’s instructions. But he said it without hesitation. Wei Yang couldn’t possibly understand the intricacies behind this. After watching the artistry of the talisman drawing for a while, he pulled out his laptop and started working on new cases. Although they had made quite a bit of money recently, it had all been through high-risk endeavors. To truly make a fortune, they needed to take on more lucrative projects. He wondered if Brother Qi had any magical talismans that could be used for special effects…

The little swindler had it all planned out. After a peaceful dinner and feeding both the human and the turtle, he found a few seemingly wealthy targets and carefully studied the possibilities of setting them up. Just as he was about to open a video to watch some local news to unwind, he saw the Little Celestial Master walk into the bedroom with his pillow and pajamas.

Wei Yang: “…”

Was this a case of being attached to the bed? Amused and exasperated, he hurried into the bedroom to find that Zhang Xiuqi had already neatly arranged his bedding back in its original place. His hair was slightly damp, as if he had just taken a shower, and he was lying down properly, seemingly ready to sleep. When he saw Wei Yang come in, he said seriously, “Sleep.”

Wei Yang: “…”

With a wry smile, Wei Yang conceded. It seemed he would have to make do with the small bed in the study. It had been years since he’d slept on a single bed, and he hoped he wouldn’t fall off. However, this movement caused Zhang Xiuqi, who had already settled down, to sit up again. Facing the Little Celestial Master’s puzzled gaze, Wei Yang scratched his head and explained helplessly, “Brother Qi, I’ve already bought a new bed. We can sleep separately now. It’s not good to keep disturbing your sleep…”

As he spoke, he bent down to pick up his pillow, ready to move to the small bed. But before he could, a hand reached out and firmly grasped his wrist. Zhang Xiuqi held onto him and said, “Don’t go.”

The voice was still calm and measured, but the words carried an inexplicable sense of pleading. The warmth from the damp palm transmitted a slight pressure, making his wrist ache faintly, as if the person wanted to restrain his movements. Facing those pitch-black eyes, Wei Yang’s heart suddenly beat faster. Perhaps it was because the scene was strangely intimate, or perhaps it was because in his tumultuous life, no one had ever so earnestly asked him to stay. His fingers loosened inexplicably, and the pillow he was holding slipped from his grasp, falling onto the bed with a soft thud.

A faint rustling sound came from the balcony, as if Lao Ye had climbed out of the water and was slowly making his way to the fake mountain in the basin to bask in the moonlight. This slight noise brought Wei Yang back to his senses. The eyes opposite him were dark and bright, not showing much emotion, but they no longer held the cold emptiness of their first meeting. Instead, there was something more human in them. Yet, those eyes were still clear, devoid of anything worldly.

Wei Yang took a light breath and smiled at the Little Celestial Master, “Brother Qi, I’ll just go wash my face and come back, okay?”

As if knowing that Wei Yang wouldn’t wander far while he slept, Zhang Xiuqi let go of his hand and sat back on the bed, but he showed no intention of sleeping. Instead, he looked like a guard dog waiting for its owner, staring intently at the figure in front of him. Seeing the Little Celestial Master’s expression, Wei Yang could only go along with it. He quickly finished washing up and returned to bed.

Once he was lying down, Zhang Xiuqi finally felt at ease and obediently lay back on his pillow. But instead of his usual rigid sleeping posture, he turned to his side, as if confirming that the person beside him was still there, and only then did he close his eyes.

However, while he fell asleep, Wei Yang found it hard to drift off. It was as if he had drunk too much alcohol, and something was churning and stirring in his blood, making his heart race and his body heat up. When the faint sound of even breathing finally came from behind him, his tense shoulders relaxed. He let out a deep sigh, pursed his lips, closed his eyes, and suppressed the ripples that had been stirred up.

&&&

As the night deepened, dark clouds quietly covered the faint moonlight. The guest room’s light turned on softly, and Wang Ming placed the briefcase on the desk, carefully opening it and taking out the Iron Buddha. Fortunately, Elder Ye had some business in the city and stayed overnight, giving Wang Ming the opportunity to check on the Iron Buddha’s condition. He had been worried about the iron sword that had fallen out earlier and wanted to restore it to its original position based on the archived photos.

Taking out his phone, Wang Ming carefully examined the way the Manjushri statue held the sword. After adjusting the small iron sword for a while, he finally fixed it back into place. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and bent down to carefully inspect the statue. The Iron Buddha’s color was too dark, and any dents or scratches from the fall might be hard to spot. He had to check thoroughly.

This inspection was much more tedious than before. After finally checking even the lotus pedestal under the Buddha and confirming there were no issues, Wang Ming felt a weight lift from his heart. Just as he was about to straighten up, something pricked his forehead, leaving a long scratch.

“Damn it!” Wang Ming hissed in pain, quickly swallowing the rest of his curse. He glanced around to make sure no one in the next room had heard the noise, then turned to see that the iron sword in the Manjushri’s hand had slipped slightly, and the angle had caused it to scratch his forehead. The wound was quite deep, with a few drops of blood seeping out near his temple. He didn’t bother wiping the blood off his face, instead using a tissue to carefully clean the bloodstains from the iron sword before meticulously repositioning it.

After scrutinizing it for a while and finding no flaws, Wang Ming finally relaxed. He wiped the blood off his face and carefully placed the Iron Buddha back into the safe, closing the lid. After tidying everything up, he felt a wave of relief. Damn it, it was all because of those clueless guys at the exchange meeting today. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been so many issues.

Wang Ming flopped onto the bed, gritting his teeth in frustration. If he could get his hands on that Eight Legions jade carving, then fine. But if he couldn’t, not only would Liu Qu have to answer to him, but the exchange meeting itself would have to give him an explanation. Those shady dealers and counterfeiters, acting all high and mighty—who did they think they were dealing with! As he pondered how to get Director Sun involved and imagined using his influence to deal with those small fries, a smile crept onto Wang Ming’s face. However, he didn’t realize that his smile carried a slight twitch, a hint of eeriness, as if a mask had been placed over his face.

The smile seemed to irritate the wound on his forehead, causing a faint itch. Wang Ming absentmindedly scratched the corner of his forehead, then turned over and closed his eyes. Behind him, inside the safe, a faint streak of blood congealed on the small iron sword, sliding down the blade’s grooves. As if drawn by the blood, the iron sword in the Buddha’s hand trembled slightly, as if moved by an invisible hand, emitting a faint metallic scrape. The sharp tip of the sword, which had been pointing upwards, slowly lowered and rested against the bodhisattva’s bejeweled neck. The slender, upturned phoenix eyes on the Buddha’s face gradually revealed two faint red streaks, as if the Iron Buddha had slightly opened its eyes, revealing crimson pupils beneath.