"One thousand jin... of gold!?"
The dense Divine Smoke swirled around the blood-red temple of Yongning, dazzling the senses as much as the flickering Golden Light. Chief Ali of the Harman Tribe widened his eyes, holding the Gold Talisman in his hand, looking at Zuwaro in disbelief. At that moment, he thought he must have hurt his ears or was experiencing an illusion.
"Ancestor... Ancestor Shaman, surely you must be joking? One thousand jin of gold? That's sixteen thousand taels of gold, at least one hundred thousand taels of silver! Such an astonishing amount of wealth, even the Liaodong Chief Soldier would find it difficult to produce! Downstream in this bitter cold along the Great River, the tribes of the Wild Men live primitively, with barely enough ironware, so how could they possibly amass such a fortune in gold?!..."
"Oh? You don't believe it?... Xiong Da, go to the flagship and bring the bag of Gold Talismans from the hold!"
"Alright!"
