Chapter 122: Buying Spree

Translator: Tim Editor: Chrissy

The middle-aged man, clearly fond of his daughters, immediately said, “Okay, one of each. Boss, do you have another one of these?”

“Yes,” Ye Mo replied, placing a third necklace on the table.

An Yan’s contempt deepened upon seeing the third necklace. If the necklaces’ functions were as Ye Mo claimed, they should be incredibly valuable; yet, his apparent abundance suggested mass production from a small factory. She reasoned that if genuine magical artifacts were so easily produced, they wouldn’t be valuable. Although unfamiliar with the business, she understood magical artifacts’ rarity. Even on Lao Da Street, few were authentic, yet many were bought—hoping to find a genuine one.

The middle-aged man, aware of the necklaces’ likely inauthenticity, felt a brief pang of disappointment, quickly overcome by his daughters’ enthusiasm.

“Boss, I’ll take three. Please package them,” he said directly.

“Three is $600,000, but I’ll give you a discount—$500,000,” Ye Mo offered, casually deducting $100,000.

The middle-aged man was taken aback by the discount. He viewed Ye Mo as a scammer, expecting him to inflate prices, not lower them. While $100,000 wasn't significant to him, considering Ye Mo’s attire, it seemed substantial. However, he soon realized Ye Mo had genuinely reduced the price.

Ye Mo, however, felt nothing. He liked the middle-aged man. Although $100,000 was significant, money wasn't his priority. He could easily earn more, especially with his online clinic launching soon.

The middle-aged man’s evident belief in the necklaces’ fakery, yet purchase of three without haggling, impressed Ye Mo. It showed his love for his daughters. Moreover, Ye Mo hadn’t expected to sell the necklaces for $600,000; $200,000 would have satisfied him. The $500,000 sale pleased him greatly.

“Package them and give me your card number. We’ll go to the tax district together. I’ll pay now,” the satisfied middle-aged man stated.

Ye Mo, lacking packaging and a card number, confessed, “I don’t have packaging, and…”

“Packaging’s not needed; she can wear it now,” one daughter interrupted, already putting on a necklace and tucking it into her clothing.

“This necklace feels amazing,” she exclaimed, sensing a cleansing effect.

The middle-aged man smiled, interpreting this as his daughter reassuring him about the purchase.

“You don’t have a card number either?” the middle-aged man quipped, seeing Ye Mo’s troubled expression.

Ye Mo admitted, “I really don’t have a card number.”

This revelation surprised An Yan, who had felt envious of the girl’s positive experience. She wondered about the necklaces' origin, given Ye Mo’s apparent lack of business infrastructure. Ye Mo suddenly realized that each stall had a designated payment handler and tax obligations—oversights in his rushed preparation.

“That necklace is lovely. How much?” A new customer approached.

“$200,000,” Ye Mo replied, sticking to his new price.

The customer, a young man accompanied by a woman in her fifties who looked unwell, spoke to his mother, “Mum, this necklace is pretty. I’ll buy it for you.”

The older woman found it attractive but hesitated over the price. While the youth didn’t consider $200,000 expensive, he feared his mother’s disapproval and the awkwardness of haggling after a recent sale. Noticing the porcelain bottles of pills, he proposed, “How about a bottle of pills as well?” He intended to verify authenticity, not consume the pills.

Ye Mo explained, “These aren’t bottles of pills; each contains one pill, and they’re more expensive than the necklaces.” The pills’ production cost exceeded the necklaces’.

The young man was stunned. A pill costing more than $200,000 seemed like buying a fake medicine.

An Yan’s contempt intensified. She considered Ye Mo unscrupulous—$200,000 for a necklace and an unknown pill costing even more. She questioned how such a person could participate in the exhibition. She longed to leave but couldn’t resist the necklace, yet was too proud to buy it.

“You’re saying this pill costs more than $200,000?” the shocked young man asked. An elderly man, overhearing, approached Ye Mo’s stall, joining the growing crowd around him.

“This necklace is beautiful. How much?” Another woman, under thirty, expressed interest. Ye Mo noted the necklaces’ appeal to women. While her figure was impressive, her face was marred by numerous, non-teenage acne spots, visible despite her sunglasses. Without them, she would be quite pretty.

Ye Mo suggested, “Madam, I think you should consider my pills.” He produced a bottle, describing the “Beauty Pill” and its high price.

“Really?” the woman eagerly asked, her desperation evident.

Ye Mo continued, “Sister, if you can afford a $200,000 necklace, this pill shouldn’t be a problem. Consider it an investment in yourself. You can earn money, but this opportunity might not come again. I won’t force you, but it’s a unique chance. I won’t be selling these pills again.”

He recognized his own persuasiveness.

“Okay, I’ll take a necklace. Card?” The young man decided, picking a necklace.

The woman immediately added, “And the pill. Even if you’re a scammer, I’ll take the chance. And the necklace…”

“Wait,” an elderly man interrupted, bowing to Ye Mo. “Patron, may I examine your necklace?”

Ye Mo turned to the woman, “Sister, do you want it? If not, I’ll give it to this monk.”

“Yes, I want it! The pill and necklace,” she quickly replied.

The old man requested, “Madam, may I inspect it first?”

The woman reluctantly handed it over. The old monk examined it, eyes widening. He declared, “Madam, may I purchase this? I’ll pay $300,000.”

The woman and onlookers were shocked. Had the old monk been drawn to the necklace's aesthetics as well? …

[1] 穷光蛋 (Povo): colloquial way of saying someone is very poor in a derogatory manner.