Chapter 35: A False Treasure, A Stirring Heart

The Old Street of Stone Tower Town is, without a doubt, the town's CBD, hosting the majority of its commercial shops.

There is the fragrant bakery, the grimy hardware store, the foul-smelling butcher shop, the dust-choked charcoal shop, and the grocery store so cramped there is barely room to set foot.

Then there is the whale oil supply station, once brightly decorated. Now, decades later, it has become like the rest of the buildings on Old Street, shrouded in the dust and languor of the small town.

The attendant guarding the whale oil station lay lazily on a tattered sofa. When customers arrived, they would trade cash for oil cards of fixed denominations—half a liter, one liter, five liters, and so on—which could then be inserted into the card reader of the pump to dispense oil.

Whale oil is categorized into various types based on its refining process. The crude variety, containing high levels of impurities, is the cheapest, while the refined is the most expensive. There are also "five-degree extracts" and "seven-degree extracts," which are blended oils.

The residents of Stone Tower Town generally only buy cheap crude whale oil for lamps. City dwellers purchase blended whale oil to boil water, cook, and fuel their cars. As for the refined whale oil, it is used almost exclusively for industrial power generation.

Lin Bo passed by the whale oil station. He planned to develop spirit potions in the near future, at which time he would inevitably need to come here to stock up on supplies.

Of course, as a lighthouse keeper, he was required to replenish fuel regularly, an expense reimbursed by the Town Hall.

The monthly lighthouse fuel allowance was distributed alongside his wages. Depending on fluctuations in oil prices, the amount varied.

According to Old Tim, it was rare for them to receive extra fuel money; usually, it was short, requiring the Watchman to take the invoices from the whale oil station to the Town Hall to claim the difference.

"Watchman, good afternoon." The fat attendant at the whale oil station noticed Lin Bo pausing at the doorway. He struggled twice on the sofa but failed to rise, so he waved his hand in greeting, his tone quite enthusiastic.

Lin Bo took the opportunity to step inside and chat with the attendant. From this lazy, rotund man, he learned a bit of common knowledge about the industry, such as the fact that the whale oil station was invested in by a fuel company and cooperated directly with the whale oil refinery in the nearby city of Jinbei.

The refinery’s raw materials came from whale slaughterhouses, as well as fish meat processing plants, fish skin tanneries, and fish bone processing factories, all clustered near the port. Whenever the whaling ships returned, it was a feast of roaring machinery.

Many of the workers in Stone Tower Town were employed at these very factories.

Lin Bo still remembered his earlier plan: to cultivate fungal strains using low-cost materials like whale viscera, bones, fins, and tails, and then extract and utilize the magical energy from them.

The mushroom garden had only just begun. It would not be too late to purchase factory scraps once he had cultivated a strain capable of decomposing flesh and absorbing magic.

The fat attendant spoke freely to Lin Bo. Initially, Lin Bo thought the man wanted him to help diagnose some ailment, but it turned out the man was simply a chatterbox. Soon, Lin Bo took his leave. The fat man, still lounging on the sofa, struggled but failed to rise, so he simply waved his hand in farewell.

The mage ducked into a grocery store. The woman tending the shop was an acquaintance—he had treated her injuries the day before. Hearing Lin Bo’s request, she looked troubled.

"Iron wind chimes? I’m afraid I don't have any. I have copper bells—how about those? If you really need them, I can bring some back when I go to Jinbei to restock next week."

"No need," Lin Bo shook his head. It was just a small trinket anyway; if he couldn't buy one in town, he could just spend some time crafting one by hand.

He bid her farewell and stepped outside. The proprietors along the street made it a point to greet the Watchman whenever they met.

Old Street Pawnshop.

Passing by again, Lin Bo discovered that the door, which had been locked tight, had reopened.

The pawnbroker had taken a trip to Hongdu, and upon returning, he was the same as ever. Seeing Lin Bo enter the shop, the man, whose face was usually sullen, immediately broke into an enthusiastic smile.

"Distinguished guest, have you come to grace me with your business again? Welcome, welcome!"

Some people, upon striking it rich, prefer not to make a grand display, yet they cannot help but leave traces so others know they have money.

Like the pawnbroker: his attire remained the same, but on the small table beside him sat a bottle of fragrant wine, and the rag he used to wipe the table was a piece of soft, snow-white, high-quality silk.

Lin Bo teased, "It seems those gold coins sold for a good price."

"A small profit, a small profit," the pawnbroker said, unable to suppress a grin.

With only Lin Bo as a customer, the owner was eager to pull the Watchman into a conversation, recounting the sights and experiences of his week-long journey. Lin Bo found it interesting and listened along.

The day he received the shipwreck coins from the Watchman, the owner had impatiently headed to Jinbei to board a ship across the sea. A day and a night later, he arrived at the Imperial Capital.

He lost no time in contacting local acquaintances, using his connections to have the coins appraised by a history professor at the Capital University.

The expert examined the coins and the casket’s design. He couldn't identify which ancient dynasty they belonged to, but he was certain they were no forgery. Admitting his own limited knowledge, he hurriedly invited a professor from the archaeology department to consult.

The box of coins caused quite a stir at the university.

The owner then contacted a newspaper, framing the origin of the coins as a lost ancient treasure. He publicized it with great exaggeration, sounding much like a teller of unsolved world mysteries. Even the public could not help but marvel, and many were convinced it was true.

At this point, the owner handed the *Hongdu Daily* to Lin Bo. Although the report on the shipwreck treasure was not on the front page, it occupied a respectable space on the third page.

Lin Bo thought to himself that the man was quite the marketer. Seeing the owner’s smug expression, he praised his shrewdness, which made the usually gloomy, middle-aged bald man glow with delight.

Ultimately, the box of coins had captured the interest of many busybodies. Capitalizing on the hype before it died down, the owner quickly put them up for auction.

Although the shipwreck coins were only a minor item, everyone had heard the rumors of the lost treasure from the recent news. The atmosphere at the venue was heated, and the final price was driven to an exorbitant high.

In the mage’s ears, the pawnbroker’s exaggerated, chatty laughter continued, while in his mind’s eye, the golden scene of the Hongdu auction house appeared.

The long pillars in the hall were gilded, and the velvet drapes were as crimson and soft as blood. On the smooth, polished marble floor, the male and female servers in black formal wear were tall and slender, their movements as agile as swallows flitting across a lake.

Nobles, wealthy merchants, and scholars had attended the auction that day, raising their paddles for the shipwreck coins. The air was thick with the scent of perfume, the sound of spraying saliva, the smell of evaporating alcohol, and the burning heat of money.

Although the owner was a consignor, his assets and status kept him from the main hall.

At the time, he had stayed in a guest room, chewing on soft, sweet pastries, drinking fragrant wine, and enjoying the free hospitality while listening to the auctioneer’s passionate cries from just behind the wall.

Each bid meant an increase in his personal wealth.

The thrill of that moment still lingered on his lips even now as he spoke of it.

Before leaving, the owner had even swiped a silk handkerchief from the auction house, acting like a petty thief who, having broken into a mountain of gold and silver, refused to leave empty-handed.

Lin Bo smiled.

"How about it, Watchman? Every word I said is true. That box of gold coins sold in Hongdu for over a dozen times their gold value. If you have any more, we can continue to collaborate. You provide the goods, I handle the sales, and we can discuss the split."

The pawnbroker had beaten around the bush for so long just to persuade this lighthouse keeper he couldn't quite fathom.

He wanted to move the other party with the purest of worldly interests. There was nothing more wonderful than money; it was the ultimate cure for hunger and depression, something loved by adults, children, and the elderly alike.

"Thank you for the story; it was very interesting," the mage said, smiling and shaking his head. "By the way, I’m here to buy something. How much for this?"

The owner pursed his lips. Seeing that Lin Bo was holding a string of old iron tube wind chimes, he casually asked for sixty *yuan*. Lin Bo haggled, and it was finally sold for twenty-five copper *yuan*.

"Watchman, think about it again! Even the professors and nobles believed the story I spun about that ancient dynasty! Think of the size of that market! We could be the talk of Hongdu! Give it some thought!"

The man did not stop or turn back. He simply waved his hand, the string of iron wind chimes in his grip swaying gently, emitting a crisp, tinkling sound that gradually faded into the distance.