Volume One: Qin Yang of the Northern Sea Chapter 17: Fulfillment

"Five million, I'll buy it." The voice echoed, domineering and brooking no refusal. Everyone frowned, their gaze settling on the mature woman before them. The displeasure on their faces faded without a trace; after all, it would be beneath them to quarrel with a lady, and even if they wished to compete, victory was far from assured.

Qin Yang looked at the woman, a smile tugging at his lips. After all, the jade stone had sold at a high price, which delighted him. That the buyer was Ye Meier was somewhat unexpected.

After the transfer was complete, he stared at his card, now boasting over seven million—a fortune won overnight. Moreover, the raw stones in Feng Bo's hands were his as well, and with the additional one million wager, his net worth soared to ten million.

Previously, such wealth was unimaginable. Now, it seemed almost inevitable.

"Young Master Feng, is the jade mine ready for me?" Qin Yang's words subdued the previously noisy crowd, whose faces now bore expressions of amusement, as if watching a play.

Ye Meier, new to the scene and unfamiliar with what had transpired, curled her red lips sensually, a satisfied curiosity in her gaze. She had no intention of leaving.

Feng Bo had hoped to slip away unnoticed; his loss in the stone gambling was humiliating, especially with a renowned figure from the gambling world at his side—

Ma San, known as "Three-Hand Ma."

Yet, to his dismay, even with a master by his side, he still lost. Not only had he failed to recoup his previous million, he'd lost even more. A classic case of losing both the chicken and the rice.

His face darkened. "Hmph, the jade is yours."

He flung his hand dismissively and made to leave, but Qin Yang would not let him go so easily. The jade had been surrendered, but the wagered million remained unpaid.

"Young Master Feng, as the heir to Feng Real Estate, surely you haven't forgotten your word?" Qin Yang eyed him keenly, mocking, "Or is Feng Real Estate unable to spare a mere million?"

The surrounding crowd watched Feng Bo, amusement in their eyes. They were eager to see what sort of man Feng Bo truly was; many were either white-collar workers or corporate leaders, all with ties to Feng Real Estate.

If the son lacked integrity, perhaps the father was no better. They would need to reconsider future dealings.

"Haha, Feng Real Estate is vast and powerful—we don't care about such trivial sums!" Feng Bo, though young, had learned much from his father. "Qin Yang, since you've won so much, why not play another round?"

Everyone knew what Feng Bo meant—he wanted a chance to win it all back.

"Oh? What do you mean?" Qin Yang feigned ignorance, pocketed the million-dollar check, and cradled the jade, ready to auction it.

His luck was extraordinary; the jade fetched a high price of 2.6 million, and the raw stones he'd purchased for a mere thousand all yielded profit, his assets soaring to ten million instantly.

Feng Bo, meanwhile, calculated his losses, unwilling to accept defeat. Qin Yang was like a pesky fly, always in his way, utterly intolerable.

"Let's go big—how about ten million?" Feng Bo said, as if it were nothing.

"Wow, Feng Bo really wants to drain Qin Yang dry. One wonders where he gets the nerve."

"Yes, he lost the first round; does he think he can win it back in the second?"

Qin Yang paid no mind to the onlookers. Truth be told, the proposal surprised him. With his fortune-telling skills, he was no less capable than any master. His lips curled into a subtle smile.

"All right."

His life motto: never start trouble, but never shy away from it. Now the challenge had come to his door—how could he refuse?

Everyone was stunned. In their eyes, this was pure gambling—having won a million, Qin Yang now aimed for two.

Ye Meier, who had initially esteemed Qin Yang, shook her head and left gracefully, disappointed by what had unfolded.

Qin Yang cared nothing for others' opinions. In these times, if someone is eager to hand you money, declining would be against all reason.

The two discussed the details. Such wagers couldn't be formalized by contract; Feng Bo suggested gathering respected elders to oversee, and the event was scheduled for the afternoon. He acted as if it were of little consequence.

The "high-end restaurant," in reality, was a luxurious hotel established by the hosts to entertain guests, with free meals as the main attraction.

Zhang Yiming said he'd be there soon. Under the scornful gaze of others, he arrived at a window-side table, carrying a roast chicken and a plate of braised pork trotters, and sat down.

Just as he prepared to eat, a voice called out.

"Qin Yang?" The tone was uncertain.

"Gao Chao." Qin Yang looked at the burly figure before him, memories flooding back. This was a high school classmate, their relationship average, yet he had not expected to meet him here.

Was this fate, as legend would have it?

Gao Chao had spent years scrambling in the business world, well-versed in the art of adaptation.

His cheap attire, totaling less than two hundred yuan, was no surprise—he knew Qin Yang's family had always been poor. For Qin Yang to dress so simply at a private raw stone procurement event, however, seemed completely inappropriate.

He was hosting important guests this time, wielding considerable authority, and relished the feeling.

He strode over. "Qin Yang, how did you get in?"

"And can you really eat all that?"

"Put it back, quick. I'll introduce you to some big shots later—guaranteed to elevate you in one leap, straight to the top." He spoke with pride; back in high school, Qin Yang had been the undisputed king, everyone under his shadow. Now, he finally had a chance to feel superior, and he was thrilled.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm just a nobody, not interested in meeting so-called big shots." Qin Yang shook his head, tore off a chicken leg, and bit into it.

Gao Chao's face turned ugly at this reply. His boss would soon arrive, and if he discovered someone sneaking in, Gao Chao feared for his own job.

He rubbed his head, plotting how to get his old classmate out.

He sat nearby, watching Qin Yang devour his meal, meat crumbs all over his face. Countless black crows seemed to fly across Gao Chao's forehead.

Was this a starving ghost reincarnated?

Or had he not eaten for years?

He was speechless.

Finally, as Qin Yang finished, Gao Chao hurriedly dragged him toward the exit—only to run into the company manager at the restaurant door.

"Gao, where are you off to?"

Gao Chao broke into a cold sweat, regretting deeply. Caught by his boss, he knew this incident would leave a bad impression.

He cursed Qin Yang inwardly; all this was Qin Yang's fault, and now he could only think of how to make up for his blunder.