Because the slums were populated by people with little need for broadband, private internet companies hadn't laid fiber-optic cables in the area. Ren couldn't use a computer to go online; the cost of installing a private dedicated line was far beyond what he could afford. Besides, the "old" Ren had never been able to justify buying a high-end PC.
In this neighborhood, his smartphone was his only window to the world. Fortunately, Lingshou was a top-tier city in the south of the Empire, so even the slums had decent signal coverage from nearby cell towers.
Perhaps because the item was too rare, Ren spent hours searching without finding any specific details on his gold coin. However, he wasn't entirely empty-handed. He managed to pin down its era: the "Shunhua" period belonged to the previous dynasty.
Before the current Empire of Great Zhao, there was the Great Qian Dynasty. It was a regime founded by nomadic tribes from the northern steppes and was the first time in history the entire Eastern Continent was unified by an outside force. At its peak, the Great Qian Empire stretched all the way to the Western Continent. However, its rise was as sudden as its fall; it lasted only ninety years before collapsing into chaos, eventually being driven back to the northern wastes by the founder of the current Zhao Empire.
This coin was likely minted during the reign of the third emperor of the Great Qian, Emperor Shunhua. Ren found plenty of information on common copper versions of the Shunhua coin, which were currently worth about 550 credits on the collector's market. There was, however, no mention of a gold version.
This didn't discourage Ren. In the world of antiques, the rarer and less documented an item was, the more it was usually worth.
After more searching, he found a website called "The Imperial Numismatic Network," the largest platform for coin appraisal and trading in the Empire. He took four high-quality photos of the gold coin under his desk lamp and registered an account with a random handle: "sfdfgh." He then posted a thread in the appraisal section: Gold Shunhua Coin—Need expert help with identification.
In the post, he wrote: "Passed down from my ancestors. It's solid gold. I don't know much about coins—can anyone tell me what it's worth?"
Knowing he wouldn't get an answer immediately, Ren tucked the coin into a drawer. Feeling uneasy, he moved it to several other hiding spots before finally sighing and sliding it into his wallet. He decided he would keep the wallet on him at all times for the next few days.
He summoned the Wish Book again. Nothing had changed. The latest entry still showed the wish he made that morning:
Wish: I want to obtain one million credits—legally.
It seems the wish won't show as "Completed" until the actual cash is in my hand, Ren thought.
Seeing that it was still early, Ren changed into some athletic autumn clothes, tucked his wallet into an inner pocket, and headed out with his damaged office tunic and trousers.
In his past life, he would have thrown these ruined clothes away. Here, however, that was unthinkable. In this world, the working class repaired their clothes until they were nothing but patches; even then, the fabric was kept as scrap.
Ren's sewing skills weren't up to the task of fixing such a large tear, so he headed to a local tailor. The shop was a small two-story wooden house. The seamstress, Mrs. Yu, lived there with her family of five. The ground floor was for business, and the cramped attic was for sleeping.
"Ah, Ren! Do you have something for me to fix?" Mrs. Yu asked, forcing a smile onto her aged, weary face.
"Yes, Mrs. Yu. I had a bit of bad luck today and took a spill. I tore my suit," Ren said politely.
"I'll get it sorted for you," she said, looking over the fabric. She tried to say more but was interrupted by a fit of suppressed coughing.
"Are you alright? You look pale," Ren said, concerned.
"It's nothing... just an old case of asthma. It flares up when the seasons change."
"Leave them with me," she continued. "You can pick them up this evening."
"Thank you. Please, Mrs. Yu, try to see a doctor if you can. Your health is more important than the work," Ren said before leaving.
On his way back, Ren took a detour to the "Lucky Square" bus stop. The area was swarming with people and cordoned off by police. Looking through the fence, Ren saw people in specialized gear carefully excavating the pit. They didn't look like road workers; they looked like researchers.
He approached a middle-aged woman nearby. "What's going on?"
"The bus stop collapsed this morning," she whispered. "When the road crews came to check the pipes, they found an ancient tomb. Those are archaeologists from Southeast University."
In the Great Zhao Empire, disturbing graves was a massive social taboo. Professional archaeologists generally never touched intact tombs unless they were accidentally exposed or damaged by construction. This was a "rescue excavation." If the descendants of the tomb owner were still alive, they could even legally claim the burial goods.
Ren nodded and slipped away. He understood now. The sinkhole wasn't just a random accident; it was the "legal" way for the gold coin to find its way into his hands. He was once again staggered by the Wish Book's reality-bending power.
That evening, Ren retrieved his clothes. Mrs. Yu had done a masterful job; the tears were invisible unless you looked very closely. She had even washed and pressed them. The repair cost him 30 credits.
After a simple dinner, Ren logged back into the coin forum. To his surprise, his thread was trending, with six pages of replies.
Most were "watching for updates" or "admiring the gold," but on the second page, a high-level user replied: Looks authentic. A gold Shunhua is incredibly rare.
On the third page, another expert wrote: The Shunhua Emperor only reigned for eight years. Regular copper coins from that era are already pricey. If I recall correctly, gold and silver versions were minted specifically as rewards for high-ranking officials upon the Emperor's coronation. History says the molds were destroyed immediately after. This looks like the real deal!
The breakthrough came on page five. A moderator with the handle "Master of the Spring" commented:
This is a "Reward" gold coin with Temple icons on the back. A true treasure. There are fewer than ten known to exist in the country, most in museums. Two years ago, one sold at auction for 850,000 credits. From the photos, yours is in even better condition. This is a million-credit coin.
Ren checked his private messages. He had four. Three were from random buyers, but the last one was from the "Master of the Spring." The man was polite and asked if Ren was willing to sell. He offered 1,000,000 credits and left his phone number.
Ren did some research on the man. His name was Yang Hao, a respected director of the Provincial Numismatic Association. He was known for being fair and had a history of successful high-value trades on the forum.
If this were his past life, Ren might have worried more about the safety of such a deal. In this world, he still felt he needed to be cautious, but the man's reputation was solid. He took a breath and dialed the number.
The man who answered sounded cultured and soft-spoken. Ren introduced himself, and Mr. Yang's tone immediately became warm. They skipped the games. Mr. Yang didn't try to lowball him; he offered 1 million credits flat—a generous price that accounted for the market's rise since the last auction.
They agreed to meet. Since they were in different cities, Mr. Yang booked a flight to Lingshou for the following afternoon.
That night, Ren saw a news update on his phone:
The cause of the Lucky Square sinkhole has been identified. An ancient tomb belonging to Wang Dingbang, a high official of the Great Qian Dynasty, was discovered beneath the road. Professor Li of Southeast University is leading a team to excavate the site. Historically, Wang Dingbang was a legendary figure who died defending a besieged city...
"Sister Ling, I need a half-day off this afternoon for some personal business," Ren said the next morning, standing by his supervisor's desk.
"Today? We just launched the new game. The workload is heavy," Ling replied, frowning. "You were out yesterday, too. Can't this wait until next week?"
"It's very urgent. Please," Ren said firmly.
She looked at him for a few seconds before sighing. "Fine. Submit the paperwork. But don't let your work slip; it will affect whether you're hired permanently after your internship."
Ren thanked her and walked away. He knew the "permanent hire" talk was a scam. The company hired dozens of interns at low wages for six-month stints, only to let most of them go and bring in a new batch of cheap labor. He didn't care about the promotion anymore.
Lingshou Airport was a massive, modern hub in the northern suburbs. Ren took the subway, which was the backbone of the city's transport. The airport's architecture was futuristic—a giant black lotus of steel and glass. To the west, a massive construction site was hidden behind barriers. That was the new Spaceport. Soon, people would be able to take spaceplanes from here to Hope City on the Moon—the first international free city under the Human Alliance.
Ever since the "Free Moon Act" was signed decades ago, the Moon had become the center of human heavy industry and the headquarters of the Global Defense Command.
Ren checked his phone: 2:30 PM. He headed toward the "Riverbank Star Hotel" near the terminal.
He booked a private room for a few hours and sent the room number to Mr. Yang. Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door.
Mr. Yang was a slightly stout, elegant older man in a modern-style professional robe and a traditional scholar's cap. It was a look favored by the social elite—sophisticated yet practical.
They greeted each other with traditional bows. Ren showed him to the tea table and pulled the coin from his pocket. He laid it on a piece of tissue paper.
Mr. Yang didn't touch it immediately. He waited for Ren to pull his hand back, then put on a pair of thin cotton gloves and took out a magnifying glass. After a long silence, he exhaled.
"Magnificent. Perfectly preserved."
Mr. Yang could tell the coin looked freshly excavated. He didn't believe Ren's "ancestor" story for a second, but in the antique world, you didn't ask questions that would ruin a deal.
"How would you like to settle this, young man? Is a bank transfer alright?" Mr. Yang asked.
"Yes. Directly to this card," Ren said, handing over his Southern Bank card.
Mr. Yang confirmed the amount: 1,000,000 credits. Within minutes, he had authorized the transfer through his mobile banking app.
While they waited for the system to process, they chatted about history. Mr. Yang was incredibly knowledgeable, and Ren found himself genuinely enjoying the conversation.
A notification pinged on Ren's phone. He opened his banking app: Balance: 1,001,530 Credits.
The weight on his chest finally vanished.
"The money is in. We're all set," Ren said with a smile.
"Excellent. Then the deal is closed," Mr. Yang replied. In this circle, once the money changed hands, the deal was final. No regrets, no matter how much the value might change later.
Ren thanked the man and left. He even paid for five hours of the room stay so Mr. Yang could rest comfortably before his evening flight home.
Ren headed back to the slums, his heart racing. He stopped to buy some high-quality groceries for dinner. As he walked through the narrow alleys, he saw the usual sights: men sitting in the sun, children playing in the dirt, and women washing hair in doorways.
Near his home, he saw a group of young people handing out flyers. One was a girl with a round, friendly "apple" face and short hair. She wasn't a classic beauty, but she radiated energy and kindness.
"Sister Yuzhu is here! Sister Yuzhu has candy!" a group of children shouted, rushing toward her.
"Line up, everyone! Ironhead, no cutting in or no candy for you!" she laughed.
She pulled a bag of sweets from her pocket. Her hands were clean, yet she didn't flinch when the dirty, soot-covered hands of the slum children reached for her. She gave each child three pieces of candy.
A small boy, barely four years old, tripped and fell as he tried to reach her. He looked ready to burst into tears. The girl, Yuzhu, knelt in the dirt, wiped the mud from his face with her sleeve, and smiled.
"Oh, Little Mochi, don't cry! I saved five pieces just for you!" she whispered, dropping the candy into his hand. The boy's tears vanished instantly as he stuffed a piece into his mouth.
Ren knew who they were. They were a non-profit group that helped the poor with legal rights and labor disputes. The girl, Miao Yuzhu, was a junior lawyer who had started the organization. They were well-loved in the neighborhood for helping people recover unpaid wages and fight for better conditions.
Ren watched them for a moment, then turned the key in his lock. He was a millionaire now, but in this maze of shadows, his journey was only beginning.
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