Chapter 172 Inventory
"Impossible, where did the big yellow croaker go? And the number of silver dollars is wrong too."
On the ruins of the Hou family estate, the leader's expression suddenly changed.
He squatted beside the camphor wood chest, holding the list handed to him by the Hou family steward, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead in the firelight.
The list clearly stated that there should be twelve chests of silver dollars, twenty large yellow croakers, and three sandalwood boxes in the cellar.
But now there are only six boxes of silver dollars on the ground.
"These are all the ones my men brought up from the cellar." The leader's voice tightened as he turned and shouted behind him, "Where's the one who went down earlier? Where is he?"
The laborers looked at each other, and one of them glanced around the crowd and shook his head.
"He was just here a moment ago..." a young laborer whispered. "After he finished carrying the boxes up, you praised him a couple of times, but I haven't paid attention to him since."
The leader jumped to his feet, his gaze sweeping over the crowd amidst the ruins.
The firefighters were scattered in twos and threes, and after scanning the area, they couldn't find the person from before.
He had thick eyebrows, a flat nose, and dark, rough skin, giving him an honest and simple appearance.
But now there are more than a dozen people in the ruins, and not a single face matches up.
"Find him!" The leader grabbed a laborer by the collar. "Find him! Alive or dead!"
The laborers scattered in a panic, but after searching for a long time, they couldn't even find a trace of Chen Mo.
Someone went to ask the patrol officer next to the boundary marker, and the officer said that he did see a man who looked like a coolie walking towards the Chinese-controlled area about 15 minutes ago.
The leader's face turned pale.
The steward of the Hou family was a tall, thin man in his early thirties. He was squatting by the box, his face growing increasingly grim.
"Twelve boxes of silver dollars became six boxes, twenty large yellow croakers disappeared, and the three sandalwood boxes were nowhere to be found."
He stood up, brushed the dust off his knees, and said, "You're telling me that's all?"
The leader wiped his sweat and replied with a forced smile, "These are the ones brought up below..."
"Then let's go down and take another look."
The manager's voice turned cold, and his gaze swept past the crowd, landing on the dark entrance.
The foreman followed his gaze to the cave entrance, then realized what was happening and grabbed another young laborer beside him: "You, go down and take a look."
The young laborer shrank his neck, reluctantly scooted to the edge of the hole, squatted down, and peered down.
The cave was pitch black, and a musty smell rose up.
He glanced back at the leader's face, dared not say anything, gritted his teeth, and crawled inside.
The cellar was very dark.
It took the young laborer's eyes a while to adjust before he could barely make out the outlines of his surroundings.
The east wall was empty, and on the metal cabinet on the west wall, two drawers were wide open, and they were also empty.
The lower cabinet door was also open, but there was nothing there, not even a scrap of paper.
"How's it going?" someone shouted from above.
The young laborer looked up. "Empty...nothing at all."
There was a moment of silence above.
The leader plopped down on a broken brick, pulled out a crumpled cigarette, lit it, and struck the match three times before he could make a name for himself.
He took a deep drag of his cigarette, and as he exhaled, the smoke mixed with his sigh dissipated in the night wind.
"This is outrageous... Where can I even get justice?"
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At this moment, Chen Mo had changed back into his original clothes and was driving towards Willow Leaf Alley.
The streetlights slid past one by one, their dim yellow light flickering on his face.
Inside the storage space, gold bars and a sandalwood box lay quietly, with some silver notes and materials scattered in the corner—those were his previous savings.
He gripped the steering wheel, but his mind was still racing with thoughts of the Hou family's assets.
The other party has been acting as a comprador for the Japanese for so long, and their business has expanded extensively.
How could all the wealth we've accumulated over the years amount to just this little bit?
The gold and silver in the cellar are probably not even a fraction of what's left.
The real family fortune was probably already deposited in the foreign firms in the concession, but unfortunately, he couldn't get his hands on it.
But even a little soup would be fine. Those big yellow croakers, plus the silver dollars, would cost over ten thousand.
At least I made back the money I spent on the car.
Sure enough, good people get good rewards!
.....
When I got home, the clock on the living room wall struck twelve.
Chen Mo didn't rush to look at the boxes, but went straight to the bathroom on the second floor.
After returning from that place, I felt uneasy if I didn't take a shower.
Water gushed out, and steam quickly filled the entire bathroom.
Chen Mo took off his clothes and soaked himself in the bathtub. The hot water covered his shoulders, dispelling the burnt smell of the ruins and the faint smell of burnt meat.
He stayed in the water with his eyes closed for a long time until it got a little cold before climbing out and changing into dry pajamas.
Back in the bedroom, he drew the curtains before turning on the light and sitting down on the bed.
A thought crossed my mind.
Three sandalwood boxes appeared on the bed, lined up in a row.
Chen Mo first picked up the three boxes and weighed them in his hands, then used his divine sense to examine them again. Only after confirming that there was no problem did he open all the boxes.
A small bottle of millennia-old stalactite, a piece of millennia-old cold iron mother, and a fragment of dragon vein stone.
The most expensive item should be the small bottle of millennium-old stone milk.
The formation of a single drop of stalactite takes thousands of years. Groundwater seeps through the spiritual veins, dissolving trace amounts of spiritual energy in the rocks, seeping in drop by drop.
The formation of a single drop of stalactite takes thousands of years. Groundwater seeps through the spiritual veins, dissolving trace amounts of spiritual energy in the rocks, seeping in drop by drop.
It takes a hundred years for this tiny drop to condense at the tip of a stalagmite.
This thing wasn't anything rare in ancient times.
But by this time, the spiritual energy was depleted, the spiritual veins were severed, and the stalactite caves that could still produce stalactites had long since disappeared.
The so-called stalactites that you occasionally see on the market are mostly just ordinary dripping water collected from limestone caves, which is just to fool laymen.
The real ancient stalactites are formed by living water.
Chen Mo uncorked the white jade bottle, brought it close to his nose, and gently sniffed it.
The refreshing scent entered my lungs through my nasal cavity, and I could feel my internal organs being washed by warm water, a feeling of indescribable comfort.
This stuff has very simple, but most practical, effects: prolonging life and healing wounds.
A single drop of ancient stalactite can extend one's life by ten years.
However, it only works the first time you drink it; it doesn't have the life-extending effect afterward.
In addition, stalactite is also a top-grade healing medicine.
No matter how severe the injury, as long as there is still a breath left, taking stalagmites can keep one alive.
Broken bones can be rejoined, cracked pores can be healed, and both internal and external injuries can be restored to their original state in a short period of time.
For those who live on the edge, this thing is like having an extra life.
This small bottle contains about ten drops of limestone, not much, but enough to save one's life.
Chen Mo carefully put the stopper back on the bottle, put it back in the box, and turned his gaze to the Millennium Cold Iron Mother and the Dragon Vein Stone Fragment.
The Thousand-Year Cold Iron Mother is not large, only the size of a fist, but it feels heavy in the hand, much heavier than a piece of gold of the same size.
The Cold Iron Mother has a very practical use: for forging flying swords.
Flying swords made of ordinary materials have low spiritual energy conduction efficiency, and they can't be controlled after flying three zhang (approximately 10 meters) away.
The flying sword forged from the Cold Iron Mother has an extremely high efficiency in transmitting spiritual energy, capable of taking a person's head from a hundred feet away. Moreover, the sword itself exudes a chilling aura, making it exceptionally powerful.
Unfortunately, in this day and age, blacksmiths who could forge flying swords have long since died out, which has made the value of the Millennium Cold Iron Mother somewhat negligible.
The Merit Hall of the Zhenyi Division also has stock; one tael of ordinary cold iron is worth about one hundred merit points, which is not very valuable.
It's something you get for free, so there's nothing to complain about. Why not take it if it's free?
He put the piece of cold iron back into the box, and finally turned his gaze to the fragment of the dragon vein stone.
Dragon vein stones, to put it simply, are the very essence of the earth.
The dragon veins of the world originate from Kunlun Mountain, branching into four main dragons in the east, west, south, and north, winding for thousands of miles and gathering the spiritual energy of mountains and rivers.
Where dragon veins pass through, a special mineral will slowly condense deep underground, which is called dragon vein stone.
It is not a spirit stone in itself and does not store spiritual energy, but it has a special ability: resonance.
When you place a dragon vein stone near a spiritual vein, it will automatically resonate with the earth's veins, gathering the surrounding spiritual energy.
A dragon vein stone the size of a fist, placed on a spiritual vein, can double the concentration of spiritual energy within a radius of three zhang.
In an era brimming with spiritual energy, dragon vein stones were not considered rare.
But now, the dragon vein is severed and the spiritual energy is depleted.
During the Guangxu era, someone found fragments of the Dragon Vein Stone in the Zhongnan Mountains, but after the Xuantong era, no one has heard of them again.
Occasionally, someone will sell them on the market, but eleven out of ten are fake. They take ordinary quartz, dye it, and dare to ask for three thousand dollars.
This thing has many uses, but its most valuable use is in formation.
A fragment of a dragon vein stone can be used as the core of a formation to set up a miniature spirit-gathering array within a radius of three zhang.
Once the formation is activated, the concentration of spiritual energy within a three-zhang radius will be twice as high as outside.
Chen Mo calculated that if he arranged this fragment of the dragon vein stone into a Yin-gathering array, and combined it with his daily meditation practice, he could probably increase his cultivation efficiency by one and a half times.
This item is currently in high demand but unavailable; you can't buy it even if you want to.
The last time someone openly sold fragments of dragon vein stone was in the third year of the Xuantong reign (1911). A piece the size of a fingernail was auctioned off for eight thousand silver dollars in Liulichang, Beiping.
If this egg-sized fragment were sold, asking for 50,000 silver dollars wouldn't be unreasonable, and someone who knows its value might even pay 60,000.
But Chen Mo has no intention of selling.
What he lacks most right now is time. With this fragment, the process of condensing the seed of true energy will be greatly shortened.