Chapter 466: Dare You Chase a Big Profit?

Chen Mu's hands kept moving, his head never lifting.

"Speak."

"I… I want to borrow some money from you."

Only then did Chen Mu raise his head and glance at him.

Cheng Jian's face was flushed, his eyes darting away, his two hands nervously twisting together.

Chen Mu had never seen him like this before.

In the past, every time he came to sell goods, he'd take the money and leave immediately, never lingering.

Today's hesitation must have a reason.

"How much?"

"Fifty thousand." Cheng Jian bit his lip, "Fifty thousand taels."

Chen Mu's hands paused for a moment.

Fifty thousand taels. Not a small sum.

But he did not ask what it was for.

He merely fell silent for a moment, then set down the half-peeled rabbit, reached beneath the counter, pulled out a wooden box, opened it, and revealed a thick stack of silver notes.

"Fifty thousand." He counted out five notes and pushed them over, "Take them."

Cheng Jian froze.

He had expected to beg and plead, even prepared to offer collateral.

He pulled a token from his chest—a palm-sized bronze plaque, inscribed with a single character on the front, intricate cloud patterns on the back.

He hesitated, placing the token on the counter, "Master Duan, I'll leave this token with you—I'll repay you within a month…"

Chen Mu glanced down at the token.

An auxiliary identity token of the Outer Disciple of Xuan Yin Valley.

He had known about it three months ago.

The first time Cheng Jian came to sell goods, he had worn this token tied at his waist, wrapped in cloth—but Chen Mu had sensed its aura.

He simply never mentioned it.

For these past three months, Cheng Jian had come every few days, selling scattered bits of strange beast materials, never mentioning his identity, and Chen Mu never asked.

The two had maintained a relationship of "Shopkeeper" and "regular customer"—no more, no less.

Now, Chen Mu looked at the token, his face showing no sign of surprise, and pushed it back.

"Cheng younger brother, what are you doing?"

Chen Mu's tone was gentle, "We've known each other for months. I don't know your origins, but I trust your character. Fifty thousand taels—no collateral needed."

Cheng Jian stared at Chen Mu, his eyes suddenly reddening.

"Master Duan… I…"

Chen Mu waved his hand, "Take it. We're old friends—why speak so formally?"

Cheng Jian's lips trembled, but he said nothing more.

He tucked the token back into his chest, carefully folded the fifty thousand taels in silver notes, and slipped them into his inner pocket.

"Master Duan, I'll repay you within a month." He bowed deeply, then turned and pushed open the door.

Chen Mu watched his figure vanish at the alley's mouth, picked up the half-peeled rabbit again, and resumed his work.

His movements were steady, his expression calm as ever.

But in his lowered eyes, a flicker of light—nearly imperceptible to others—passed through.

…

More than half a month later, Cheng Jian returned, as promised.

As soon as he entered, he pulled a cloth bundle from his chest, opened it, and inside lay neatly stacked fifty thousand taels in silver notes.

"Master Duan, here's your money back."

Chen Mu took it, casually counted a few, then stowed it in the wooden box beneath the counter, smiling, "Cheng younger brother, you're as good as your word."

Cheng Jian offered a shy smile, "You trusted me—I couldn't let you down."

He didn't stay long, sold a few more scraps of strange beast materials, and took his leave.

Chen Mu watched him go, still saying nothing.

…

But less than ten days later, Cheng Jian returned again.

This time, his face was more haggard than before, his eye sockets sunken deeper, his gray cloth robe wrinkled and dirty, as if he hadn't changed it in days.

He stood before the counter, silent for a long while, then spoke with difficulty, "Master Duan… I… I want to borrow some more money from you."

Chen Mu looked at him, his gaze calm.

"How much?"

"Eighty thousand."

Cheng Jian lowered his head, avoiding eye contact.

Chen Mu fell silent for a moment, then rose, took the wooden box from beneath the counter, counted out eight silver notes, and placed them on the counter.

He did not ask why he was borrowing again.

But he asked something else, "Cheng younger brother, tell me honestly—what are you using all this money for?"

Cheng Jian's body stiffened slightly.

Chen Mu's tone remained gentle, unhurried, "We've known each other this long—you've come to my shop at least twenty, maybe thirty times. Each time, you sold your goods, took your money, and left—never lingered. But this past month, you've borrowed twice—thirteen thousand taels total. That's no small amount."

He paused, then spoke again.

"I'm not trying to dig into the root of it. I just want to know if you're in trouble. If you are, though I'm just a small merchant, if I can help, I always want to lend a hand."

Cheng Jian lowered his head and remained silent for a long time.

So long that Chen Mu thought he wouldn't speak.

"... Gambling." Cheng Jian finally looked up, his voice hoarse. "Section Shopkeeper, I... I'm addicted to gambling."

He gave a bitter smile, one filled with helplessness, self-mockery, and a pain even he couldn't quite name.

"I know it's a vice. But every time I get money, my hands itch, my legs go weak, and I'm drawn to the gambling den like a ghost has taken hold... I lose it all, then regret it, hate myself—but next time, I still can't stop."

He looked at Chen Mu, his eyes reddening.

"Section Shopkeeper, I know I don't deserve to be your friend. But you... you're the first person who never asked about my past, never cared about my status, and lent me money without taking collateral. I..."

He couldn't go on.

Chen Mu listened quietly, without interrupting.

When he finished, Chen Mu let out a soft sigh.

"Young Brother Cheng."

Chen Mu's tone was calm, without blame or preaching: "Gambling is easy to fall into, hard to escape. I'm not here to urge you to quit... that's your own business, no one else's words matter. I'll say only this."

He stood up and pushed the eighty-thousand-silver-note to the edge of Cheng Jian's hand.

"I'll lend you the money. But next time, if you come again to borrow, you must tell me the truth—is it to pay off a debt, or did you lose it again? If it's to pay off a debt, I'll lend again. If it's another loss, this money will be my final gift to you."

Cheng Jian stared at Chen Mu, tears finally spilling down his cheeks.

"Section Shopkeeper... thank you... thank you..."

He bowed deeply, then turned and walked away quickly.

Chen Mu watched his figure vanish at the alley's mouth, then sat back down behind the counter and resumed his work.

His face remained as calm as ever.

Only in his eyes did the light deepen further.

After that, Cheng Jian came every ten days or so.

Sometimes to sell goods, sometimes to repay money, sometimes indeed to borrow again.

Of the ten times he borrowed, seven or eight were to pay gambling debts, two or three were for cash flow.

Chen Mu always said "this is the last time," and each time he lent anyway.

Cheng Jian always swore "I'll quit," and each time he failed.

Thus, one lent, one repaid, one cursed himself, and the other never spoke harshly.

Unknowingly, they became the most well-known "unlikely friends" in the black market.

Though Cheng Jian was a few years younger than Chen Mu, in character and composure, he seemed like a child before him.

One day, afternoon.

The shop door was pushed open, and Cheng Jian stepped in quickly.

His expression was different from usual.

Not weary, not desperate—but a complex mix of tension, excitement, and a trace of fear.

He didn't greet as usual; instead, he shut the door behind him and barred it from inside.

Chen Mu put down his work and looked at him.

"Young Brother Cheng, what's happened?"

Cheng Jian hurried to the counter and lowered his voice: "Section Shopkeeper, dare you make a big profit?"

Chen Mu's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"How big?"

Cheng Jian took a deep breath, glancing around as if fearing eavesdropping.

"One hundred thousand taels." He spoke slowly, each word deliberate. "All you need to do is help me pass it along."

Chen Mu looked at him, saying nothing.

Cheng Jian thought Chen Mu didn't believe him and hurried on: "It's true! I'm not lying! It's intelligence—just help me deliver it, and you get one hundred thousand taels. You don't need to show your face, don't need to take any risk—just... just pass it along."

Chen Mu fell silent for a moment.

Then he smiled.

"Young Brother Cheng."

His tone remained gentle: "We've known each other half a year. I know who you are. I believe your words."

He paused, then continued.

"But just passing something along earns you one hundred thousand taels? Is there really such an easy thing in this world?"

Cheng Jian opened his mouth to speak, then swallowed the words back.

Chen Mu looked at him, eyes as calm as still water.

He didn't press.

He simply waited.

Waiting for Cheng Jian to speak on his own.