Chapter 166: One Day, Two Visits: Eating, Drinking, and Taking Things (1)

Put down the wood, Qin Yun then remembered he had no tools, and he'd need a decorative wooden box for whatever he carved.

So he left the budget hotel again and headed to Zhoushan Antique City.

When he returned to the antique city, he found the spot where he'd bought the wood in chaos—people wailing and crying bitterly.

Curious, Qin Yun edged closer.

But after hearing just a few words, he pulled his hat brim lower and walked into the main building, as if afraid of being recognized.

"Tsk tsk, Old Man Song won't sleep a wink tonight."

"He sold top-grade wood certified by Professor Gu for five thousand yuan—anyone would cry over that."

"Crying won't help. Even if the buyer stood right in front of Old Man Song now, he couldn't demand it back—there's no such rule."

"That's true, but who doesn't feel their heart bleeding? Five million turned into five thousand."

"Luckily Old Man Song's in good health, or he'd have dropped dead from rage."

"Hahaha, stop talking—keep going and Old Man Song will really cry himself to death."

Qin Yun entered the main building, where the atmosphere was utterly unlike the bustling open-air stalls.

The first floor housed fixed shops selling stones, jadeite, jade artifacts, and miscellaneous items—quiet compared to the noise outside.

There were plenty of people, but the haggling was low-key.

Many merchants gathered in groups, gleefully gossiping about the drama outside.

Qin Yun came for tools and boxes, so he didn't wander—he went straight to his target, picked a suitable tool set and a few small boxes, and left.

Old Man Song's crying had vanished; the stall was empty, the old man gone, the ground swept clean—clearly he'd gone home.

Qin Yun felt no guilt whatsoever—this was how the trade worked.

Who knows if that log wasn't just some random thing the guy dug up somewhere? Five thousand was still profit. It's just human nature—once you learn something was snatched up, it feels like your flesh is being cut away.

It's understandable, human nature.

But even if Qin Yun understood, he'd never return it—or buy it back for five million. He wasn't an idiot.

Back at the hotel.

He stood the log under the light and, without hesitation, slashed the saw sharply along its edge.

When the uneven edges were cut away, the wood's full grain and color emerged.

First, the color—not a plain yellow-brown, but with a jet-black-gold hue; under the light, it even resembled inked jade soaked in oil.

Jet-black, ink-green, yellow-brown—three tones gradating. The pale green he'd glimpsed earlier at the antique market was just the outer edge's stain.

And the grain wasn't the smooth landscape pattern anymore—this wood was golden-threaded yinchen wood, meaning wood buried underground, compressed by geological pressure, carbonized.

So naturally, the grain was different. The pattern before him was a twisted, interwoven water-wave design, with fine golden cat's-eye effects in places—pleasing to the eye.

No cracks or impurities inside; the texture was dense, the cut surface smooth and fine—exactly as he'd suspected: top-grade golden-threaded yinchen wood.

Touching it, there was no dryness—only a warm, jade-like smoothness.

Because it had been buried and compressed, this piece, same size as ordinary golden-threaded nanmu, was far heavier.

Then there was the scent.

The instant he cut it, a crisp, rich nanmu fragrance surged forth—not the light aroma of fresh wood, but a subdued, lingering scent with a faint earthy, woody undertone.

"Hahaha, excellent!"

With such a large piece, even after giving away seven small pendants, Qin Yun would still have plenty left—he could store it; it might prove useful later.

He measured it mentally, quickly visualized the wood needed for the seven pendants, then cut cleanly and decisively.

That night, the clash of blade and wood never ceased.

……

When sunlight peeked through the curtain seams and crept in, Qin Yun was still asleep.

After an all-night session, the result lay on the windowsill: seven finished wooden carvings.

Four square wooden plaques, three round hollow pendants—all were peace talismans, with blessings like "Peace," "Smooth Sailing," "Good Fortune," "Health" carved on the back. Their styles varied—some solemn, some lively, some gentle.

At market price, each wooden plaque wasn't cheap—even without counting his labor, just by weight, each was worth over twenty to thirty thousand yuan—unquestionably generous.

Qin Yun wasn't just being reckless—he'd also been influenced by Xia Xiaoxing and Han Wei's tips in the livestream.

Han Wei needed no mention—every livestream she was a major spender, tossing money like water, clicking without a second thought. Xia Xiaoxing wasn't as extreme, but he'd sent gifts worth fifty to sixty thousand yuan—giving away a few wooden pendants was nothing to him.

After all, the material cost only five thousand yuan—the value was in his craftsmanship.

Under his master-level carving, the zodiac figures on the plaques looked profoundly warm, glowing faintly with a jet-black-gold sheen under sunlight.

Each finished piece was polished to perfect smoothness, with not a single sharp edge—even under magnification, every groove flowed seamlessly, no breaks, no flaws.

Moreover, Qin Yun designed the shapes following the yinchen wood's natural grain, making them even more exquisite and lifelike.

He opened his eyes at ten in the morning.

After washing up, he carefully placed each of the seven wooden plaques into seven brocade boxes, then tossed them casually into his backpack.

When he went downstairs, he saw Xia Xiaoxing already there, sitting alone on the lobby sofa, idly scrolling on his phone.

"When did you get here?"

Qin Yun asked, surprised.

Xia Xiaoxing looked up, immediately stood, and bounced over: "Big Brother Qin, you're finally down—I've been waiting two hours!"

"You could've called me."

Xia Xiaoxing grinned: "I didn't want to disturb your sleep."

He glanced at the bag in Qin Yun's hand: "Big Brother Qin, what's in the bag? Not a gift, right? No need—you're our guest today, you don't need to bring anything."

Qin Yun smiled: "This isn't a gift—the gift's in my backpack. Since you're here, let's go—take me to try Shanghai breakfast. I remember Shanghai's rice dumplings taste amazing; I used to eat them often in Zhoushan as a kid."

"Let's go!"

Shanghai Ziyuan · Yunyu · No. 12.

The top chef specially invited has already arrived with their team and is busy at work.

Xia Baichuan and Cai Xuan were somewhat conflicted.

"Do you think this gift is too light?" Cai Xuan stared at the motorcycle key inside the box.

Xia Baichuan shook his head: "The gift may be small, but the sentiment is heavy. As long as we've shown our sincerity, that's enough. Sure, the bike costs only two or three hundred thousand, but what matters is our intention."

"But I still feel that compared to saving your daughter, just giving a motorcycle seems inadequate."

"Enough, don't overthink it. You've watched the young man's videos too—he clearly seems grounded. He won't care."

"..."

Cai Xuan rolled her eyes at him and ignored him.

Meanwhile, Xia Xiaochuan, watching his parents debate all morning over what gift to give, was speechless.

"Dad, Mom, Brother Qin won't care. Don't worry—he's not short on cash. One live stream can earn him several million."

They showed no reaction.

Five million from a single live stream might sound like a lot, but to them, it meant little.

As the time neared eleven, the doorbell rang outside.

"Ding dong—!"

Qin Yun didn't dress formally just because he was visiting; he simply changed into casual wear. But due to his outstanding aura, even the plainest clothes on him created a striking visual impact.

"Just open the door yourself—why ring the bell?"

"Hehe, I wanted Mom and Dad to come down and greet him themselves."

As soon as she finished speaking, the door opened, revealing three figures before Qin Yun.

One was Xia Xiaochuan; the other two, older, were undoubtedly Xia Xiaoxing's parents.

"Uncle, Auntie, hello."

"Come in, come in, Xiao Qin! You came, why bring gifts?"

Cai Xuan said nothing and snatched the gift, then dropped it straight onto the floor—the over ten-kilogram object was too heavy to hold unexpectedly.

"Oh my, Xiao Qin, what's this? So heavy!"

Qin Yun quickly picked it up and smiled awkwardly—Cai Xuan's movements were too fast: "Auntie, let me carry it."

They ushered him inside, entered the main hall, sat on the sofas, and began chatting casually.

After the initial awkwardness passed, the atmosphere gradually warmed up.

"Xiao Qin's job is still quite dangerous. When your Uncle Xia and I first watched your video, we were terrified—our hearts nearly jumped out."

"Yeah," Xia Baichuan chimed in, "I was completely stunned."

Qin Yun laughed and, after thinking a moment, pulled four brocade boxes from his backpack and handed them out one by one.

"Uncle, Auntie, Xiaochuan, Xiaoxing—small gifts, I hope you like them."

"You're too kind, Xiao Qin," Cai Xuan said, eyes brightening as she took one, but didn't open it immediately—she smiled warmly: "We invited you here mainly to thank you for saving Xiaoxing and Xiaochuan."

As she spoke, she opened the brocade box—and instantly, the contents inside captivated her.

"Wow, such a beautiful wooden plaque," Cai Xuan, an expert, knew exactly what she was seeing—it was freshly carved, and the zodiac animal matched hers perfectly, clearly chosen with great care by Qin Yun.

"Xiao Qin, this wood looks like golden silk nanmu sinking wood," Xia Baichuan also opened his box, sniffed it, and saw a coiled dragon carved on his plaque: "And the carving skill is exceptional—I've only seen two others with this level of craftsmanship."

Qin Yun smiled: "I found this golden silk nanmu myself, bought it last night at the Jüqi Antique Market. As for the craftsmanship, Uncle, you flatter me—I still have plenty of room to improve."

Cai Xuan gasped: "What? Xiao Qin, you carved this yourself? You can carve?"

This wasn't feigned surprise—she was genuinely astonished.

Qin Yun looked so young—how could he possess such top-tier carving skill? With this talent, he could earn fortunes even without livestreaming.

"Just a little," Qin Yun humbly replied. "My skill is decent—I hope Uncle and Auntie like them."

Xia Xiaoxing played with her wooden plaque beside them; she was born in the Year of the Rooster, so it was carved as a cute little chicken.

"Brother Qin, this wood feels so smooth—isn't it expensive?"

Her words instantly jolted Cai Xuan and Xia Baichuan—they exchanged glances and immediately dismissed their planned gift.

Xia Baichuan placed the plaque back into its brocade box: "Xiao Qin, this gift isn't just expensive—it's far too valuable. The top-grade golden silk nanmu sinking wood alone is worth tens of thousands, not to mention the craftsmanship—on the market, it's worth at least two hundred thousand."

Good heavens—he handed out four of these at once, nearly a million, without blinking.

Could this kid be after Xiaoxing?

A doting father was exactly like this—just moments ago he thought Qin Yun was perfect, now he suspected him of pursuing Xiaoxing.

Their daughter might be short, but everything else was top-tier—how many families in Shanghai wanted to marry into their home? None could even get through the door.

Could this kid think that saving Xiaoxing gives him the right to demand something in return?

The more he thought, the stranger his gaze became.

Qin Yun, ever observant, noticed their odd behavior but didn't overthink it.

"Haha, Uncle, Auntie, I carved these myself, and I bought the wood for five thousand yuan—it's not nearly as valuable as you think."

That was the logic, but the actual value didn't work that way.

In the end, they still accepted the gifts—but knew their own gift was now useless.

If they gave away a motorcycle worth over two hundred thousand, they'd lose all face in Shanghai.