Volume One: Qin Yang of the Northern Sea Chapter 21: The Outcome

All eyes converged, breaths audible in the tense air, excitement flushing their faces. The wager between the two had reached ten million—a sum unheard of in previous contests. Qin Yang glanced toward Feng Bo and realized that Sun Tianmu of the Northern Sage was nowhere to be seen. Only after chatting with Zhang Yiming did he learn that Sun Tianmu had departed on urgent business, leaving Ma Sanshou to preside over the proceedings.

The prospect of missing a match against the Northern Sage left Qin Yang feeling a distinct lack of interest.

Feng Bo, growing impatient, barked, “Are we going to do this or not? If you want to forfeit, just admit defeat now and prepare the ten million.”

Ye Meier and her companions were also becoming anxious—the wait had already stretched on, and judging by Qin Yang’s breathless appearance, he must have run all the way here.

“Since you’re so eager to lose, I’ll put you out of your misery sooner,” Qin Yang replied, activating his Qi Gaze. He saw that Feng Bo had already positioned his raw jade stone, everything set and waiting.

Comparing their stones, Qin Yang knew that in a battle such as this, it was crucial to start with a resounding win.

With the help of a few others, they lifted the raw stone onto the stone-cutting machine. As the preparations concluded, the machine’s sharp, screeching whir signaled the official start of the contest.

Had Sun Tianmu been present, Qin Yang might have felt some apprehension. But with only Ma Sanshou left, formidable though he was, he could not match Qin Yang’s Qi Gaze.

As the cutting began, both contestants chose to edge-cut, shaving off thin layers, methodically and cautiously, to avoid damaging any jadeite within and maximize preservation.

Although Qin Yang was certain there was jadeite inside, he had no idea about its specific quality or appearance.

The first cut: Feng Bo’s stone revealed a hint of green, but he didn’t exclaim in delight—he had already suffered a loss that morning and was being extra cautious. Besides, each piece of his material had been personally appraised and marked by Sun Tianmu with the internal jadeite’s value.

He refused to believe he could lose.

The second cut exposed even more jadeite, its presence increasingly obvious. Feng Bo could not suppress his excitement and let out a triumphant shout.

In contrast, nothing was happening with Qin Yang’s stone, and the crowd began to murmur anxiously.

“Hahaha!”

“Qin Yang, you’re bound to lose this time. And don’t forget, if I win all three rounds, you owe me twenty million,” Feng Bo crowed, visibly pleased. He pulled out a premium pack of cigarettes, sharing them around, and lit one personally for Ma Sanshou.

If not for Ma Sanshou, how could he have secured the expertise of someone like the Northern Sage?

Zhang Yiming and Wang Hao watched Qin Yang closely. Both had faith in him, though seeing his calm demeanor, they couldn’t help but ask, “Qin Yang, are you sure there’s no problem?”

Their concern was understandable: all of Feng Bo’s raw stones had been selected by Sun Tianmu himself, a renowned figure whose name alone inspired caution.

“Just keep watching,” Qin Yang replied.

Those nearby, overhearing, rolled their eyes at what they took to be the gambler’s stubbornness.

“Jadeite!” someone shouted as the third cut was made. The crowd gasped in amazement, looking at Qin Yang with newfound admiration—so that was why he’d remained so composed; he must have known there was jade inside all along.

Feng Bo’s eyes narrowed sharply, his face turning grim and dark as he stared at the jadeite. He hadn’t expected Qin Yang’s stone to contain ice-glass jadeite.

“Damn it, how can his luck be so good?” Feng Bo cursed inwardly.

The cutting continued. With each pass, the jadeite became clearer, stunning everyone present. Based on the capital each had invested, Qin Yang’s profits were enormous—especially since he’d spent the least and still won the first round.

Feng Bo, his face clouded, muttered, “Winning one round means nothing. I’ll make sure you lose miserably in the next two.”

Observing the piece Feng Bo was eyeing, Qin Yang couldn’t help but smile slightly. That rough stone was likely the most valuable of all. If he hadn’t arrived late and bought a high-priced stone at the last moment, he would have been doomed this round.

His lips curled with delight; his heart soared.

Chatting with Zhang Yiming and Wang Hao, he was interrupted by Ye Meier, who approached with graceful poise in her black dress, her subtle fragrance making his thoughts wander.

“Qin Yang, are you willing to sell your jadeite?” she asked.

Zhang Yiming and Wang Hao couldn’t advise him on this; besides, Meili Group was wealthy and buying from them could forge a beneficial relationship.

“I’ll decide after all the stones are cut,” Qin Yang replied.

The people around were stunned by his response. Ye Meier was a renowned beauty in Bincheng—most would bend over backward to please her, but Qin Yang was playing hard to get.

Ye Meier said nothing, just nodded with a faint smile, though inwardly she was puzzled. Did he really think he was better than the Northern Sage?

Surely not. The Northern Sage had spent decades studying rough jade stones, a feat this young man couldn’t possibly match.

Just as she fell into contemplation, another wave of exclamations rippled through the crowd.

Glass jadeite—yet another piece of glass jadeite!

Feng Bo, seeing the vivid green within, was overjoyed. He shot Qin Yang a look that seemed to say, “Let’s see you win this time.”

Qin Yang ignored the provocation and focused on the stone he’d spent so much on.

“Is this real?”

“My god, is it really Imperial Green?”

Imperial Green—the finest jadeite. Even a fist-sized piece was rare, let alone a chunk this large.

Feng Bo’s face turned green at the mention. Damn it, if he lost this second round, he’d owe Qin Yang another ten million.

After the stones were fully revealed, Feng Bo’s ashen face was a source of immense satisfaction for Qin Yang.

With a laugh, he brandished the check. “Well, that money was easy. Thanks for your generosity, Young Master Feng.”

Feng Bo’s face darkened, his eyes burning with fury. He clenched his jaw so hard it creaked. This was ten million, not a paltry thousand—and it was his father’s money, never intended to be lost. Now he’d not only lost it, but might also lose another ten million in the third round. The thought sent a chill of panic through him.

Though his heart bled, there was some consolation—especially after meeting the Northern Sage, he was certain he’d profit handsomely this time. Yet, knowing all his efforts were benefiting someone else left him aggrieved.

There was no point in dwelling on it; the third round had begun.

Watching Feng Bo choose his next stone, Qin Yang could hardly contain his glee.

Damn, if I don’t take him for every penny, I’d be letting down the Feng family’s reputation.

“Feng Bo, how about we raise the stakes?”