Chapter 216: Gold Masquerading as Bronze

"Eight hundred!"

"Eight hundred!"

"Eight hundred!"

Peng Tianhua's loud shout went in sync with the hammer's rhythm.

How much is that lock on the door worth?

The ten-catty stone-breaking iron hammer, with one strike, would surely shatter that lock on the spot. But Old Peng's eyes are good; each strike missed the lock.

In the end, the door panel bore it all, ending up riddled with holes.

This shameless get-rich-quick scheme exactly suits Yang Qing's taste; a middle-aged greasy man is bound to have blurry vision sometimes—usually he can't even aim at a urinal, so missing the door lock is perfectly normal.

Yang Qing grinned at Lin Dongfan and said, "Eight hundred per hammer strike—that's what you said. One share for him, one for me."

"You damn promising! I told you to play stocks, you didn't; to play real estate, you didn't; you just want that eight hundred per hammer strike—no wonder you can't scrape together a bride price."

Lin Dongfan shook his head helplessly, really wanting to slap that five‑million bank card onto his face.

Only when he felt his pocket did he realize he'd left it in the car.

Forget this poor bastard for now; let him stay poor a few more hours.

Lin Dongfan turned his gaze to Jia Yuzhang; Old Jia's reaction was comparatively normal—when it's time to cry without tears, he cries without tears, perfectly embodying the highest realm of the Collapse Realm.

"General Manager Jia, legs weak?" Lin Dongfan asked with a smile.

Jia Yuzhang's legs weren't weak yet, but his lips trembled and tears glistened in his eyes.

He pulled a mournful tone and explained to Lin Dongfan, "The gold in the house is truly what my ancestors left behind; if you don't believe me, call my sister over—she can vouch for it."

"I won't call her; I'm afraid she'll bite me."

Lin Dongfan smiled faintly; an invisible blade seemed to pierce straight into Jia Yuzhang's old heart.

Just then.

A loud "Bang!" came from behind; the lock didn't break, but the door panel was blown open with a big hole.

Peng Tianhua seemed embarrassed to swing the hammer again, so he simply kicked twice, enlarging the hole to let everyone in.

"Section Chief Lin, we've hit the lock 108 times." Peng Tianhua raised his arm, wiped his sweat, and excitedly asked Lin Dongfan, "What should we smash next? Please instruct."

"Well done. Next, smash his stove."

"Received!"

Under Lin Dongfan's lead, Peng Tianhua shouldered the great iron hammer and rushed straight to the kitchen.

Yang Qing had his officers escort Jia Yuzhang, closely following behind.

The Jia family's kitchen is still quite large, using a wood‑burning stove whose chimney runs straight to the roof; on the stove sits a big black pot.

"Click!"

Peng Tianhua swung the hammer down, and the big iron pot shattered with a sound.

Those shards were just like Jia Yuzhang's broken heart.

Jia Yuzhang wiped away tears as he recalled, "My mother used this pot to raise me; I still remember her figure standing before the stove—she was diligent and plain."

"What meaning are you trying to convey?" Lin Dongfan asked, surprised.

Jia Yuzhang's lips quivered with tears: "I want to say that a thrifty, hardworking rural woman's workplace should be remembered. Yet you destroy it all with violence—that's not serving the people."

"Hey, General Manager Jia, you still remember those five words 'serve the people'?"

Lin Dongfan narrowed his eyes, grew solemn, and pressed Jia Yuzhang further: "Tell me, how do you serve the people? By selling state assets or lining your own pockets? Idle enough to shill for the NDRC: a one‑yuan oil price rise is called a tweak, a two‑jiao drop a crash, and burying the looted gold bricks under your stove—that's your idea of service?"

This series of sharp questions left Jia Yuzhang flushed red in the face.

Lin Dongfan shook his head with a smile: "Old fogey, you too have moments of speechlessness? Don't rush—the main course isn't out yet, and you'll have your turn to cry. Smash it!!!"

The last three words thundered like a bolt, shocking everyone.

This time Peng Tianhua didn't dare waste time; each strike hit the stove's weak point, and after just a few blows the stove was torn apart.

Xiao Zhao and a few policemen stepped forward to scrape away the ashes.

Soon they pried out brick after brick of gold from the rubble.

These gold bricks weren't stuffed in the firebox but were built into the stove; after careful counting, there were 500 gold bricks—still a bit shy compared to Cheng Dao's gold coffin.

Yang Qing asked in disbelief, "General Manager Jia, you've spent half your life at the Hai Kuang Group, your bald head as barren as a desert, and this is all you've managed to scoop up?"

"Who scooped it? These gold bricks are my family's heirloom." Jia Yuzhang put on a calm front.

Lin Dongfan picked up a gold brick and examined it: "General Manager Jia, your ancestors were awesome—able to get gold bricks stamped with the ICBC logo. Did the ICBC time‑travel, or did your ancestors?"

"My dad didn't even live in the Qing dynasty—you think that's funny?" Jia Yuzhang declared confidently.

Lin Dongfan said, "Then it's strange: you were born in 1953, your father died in 1967, but the ICBC wasn't founded until 1984—did your father reincarnate?"

"!!!"

Jia Yuzhang wore a bewildered look, never expecting to make such a rookie mistake.

"How pathetic—you can't even make up a story, you're nothing." Laughing, Lin Dongfan turned and led the way: "Come on, let's check out the room where your father used to live."

The bedroom to the right of the hall was exactly where Jia Yuzhang's father had lived.

A gentle push.

The wooden door creaked, instantly filling the air with an eerie feeling.

The room was dimly lit.

Peng Tianhua asked nervously, "Section Chief Lin, where should we smash?"

"This time we don't smash; we move."

Lin Dongfan's gaze had locked onto the two red‑lacquered wooden chests on the bed—these must have been Jia Yuzhang's mother's dowry.

The wooden chests were badly chipped, and their edges showed signs of having been gnawed by mice.

Xiao Zhao and the police officers worked together, moving the heavy wooden cabinets to the better-lit hall, then pried open the two cabinets one after another, and the contents inside became immediately apparent.

Straw was spread all around the boxes.

Inside were twelve handicraft items, the twelve zodiac animals, with six placed in each box.

Jia Yuzhang, upon seeing these items, broke out in a cold sweat from nervousness: 'These… these aren't antiques; they're worthless handicrafts made of brass…'

"Brass?"

Lin Dongfan had someone fetch a kitchen knife from the kitchen.

He casually picked up a zodiac tiger and, with the kitchen knife, angrily chopped at its neck—not for any particular reason, just to satisfy an urge.

Jia Yuzhang was so frightened his whole body trembled, and Lin Dongfan also broke into a satisfied smile.

He continued to scrape the tiger's buttocks with the knife.

Soon after.

The bronze-colored surface of the zodiac tiger was scraped away, revealing its pure gold interior.

Yang Qing was a bit bewildered: 'Gold plated with bronze? What the hell kind of move is this?'

"The pure-gold zodiac set is too conspicuous; there's nowhere to hide it." Lin Dongfan smiled at Jia Yuzhang: "Mr. Jia, you're clever—you just sprayed a layer of bronze over it, letting the gold player masquerade as a bronze player. One move to deceive the heavens and cross the sea; even his sister Jia Yuhuan, who comes by every few days to clean, remains clueless."

"……!!!"

Jia Yuzhang lowered his head, trembling, his legs already beginning to go weak.

He just couldn't figure it out—how could this guy Lin Dongfan know everything about such a covert matter? It's like seeing a ghost in broad daylight.

Lin Dongfan chuckled with interest: "Mr. Jia, honestly, your tactics aren't impressive at all. Compared to Cheng Dao, who buried gold in ancestral graves, you're just a rookie."