Chapter 581

'Still, a small profit is still profit.'

The big monk comforted himself, reaching out to take the Mao Grandpa from Feng Baobao’s hand.

Even a mosquito’s leg is meat!

'Wait!'

At that moment, a low, powerful voice echoed in both their ears, halting the act of handing over and receiving money.

'Ah Jie, Chulan, you’ve come.'

Seeing the newcomers, Feng Baobao was delighted.

Who else could it be but Zhang Jie and Zhang Chulan, who had come searching for her after realizing she was lost?

'Look quickly—the strand of Banhongliuli , forged from the inner core of a ten-thousand-year Qilin, [10] crafted over many years by this master, possessing the power to rival heaven and earth, brimming with boundless benefits!'

Crafted over many years by the master, this Ban red Liuli string grants the benefits of nature’s boundless artistry!

Feng Baobao pointed to the strand still in the big monk’s hand, enthusiastically introducing it to Zhang Jie and the others.

Her behavior was much like a child showing off a new toy to friends.

'Ten-thousand-year Qilin inner core? Crafted by a master?'

Hearing these descriptors, Zhang Jie remained noncommittal, while Zhang Chulan was left speechless.

Fine, the master’s craftsmanship was acceptable—most masters in the supernatural world truly possessed cultivation;

they were not like those frauds in the mortal world who fooled people with nothing but monk’s robes.

But where did the 'ten-thousand-year Qilin inner core' come from?

The Qilin is a mythical beast—no one has ever verified its existence, let alone its inner core.

Even if a Qilin truly existed, who could possibly extract its inner core?

Ten thousand years? Even a pig would have become the Heavenly Marshal Tian Peng by then, let alone a mythical beast like the Qilin.

In short, this monk was conning Feng Baobao.

'Master, is this Banhongliuli strand genuine?'

Zhang Chulan directly challenged him.

'Amitabha.'

The big monk clasped his hands together, recited another Buddhist mantra, and assumed an aura of solemn dignity:

'A monk never tells lies.'

Though he gave no direct answer, the implication was clear.

'Then is it guaranteed authentic?'

Zhang Chulan pressed on relentlessly.

'Amitabha...'

The big monk froze.

He was selling counterfeit goods—how could he guarantee authenticity when the product itself was fake?

But he was a seasoned veteran of the supernatural world; how could a minor question from Zhang Chulan stump him?

Without changing expression, his demeanor grew even more compassionate:

'This object is naturally formed; only those with destiny may behold its true form.'

In other words, even if you bought it and it turned out fake, it had nothing to do with him—it was simply your lack of connection with the divine artifact.

'Master speaks truly—I am the one destined for it!'

Feng Baobao, clearly deceived, nodded earnestly.

Zhang Chulan now had only one phrase to say, identical to Zhuge Liang’s in the TV series 'Romance of the Three Kingdoms':

I have never seen such a brazen, shameless person!

Zhang Jie’s lips curled slightly: this thief of a monk was quite a talent, selling fakes with such refreshing audacity.

He flicked his finger, sending an invisible force shooting out to strike the bead strand.

Crack.

Countless cracks spread across the ' Banhongliuli strand,' and moments later it shattered into several pieces, falling to the ground.

'The bead strand broke?'

Feng Baobao stared blankly at the scene.

If it’s broken, how can it still be destined for me?

Thinking made her head ache—she felt like she was growing a brain.

Zhang Chulan looked at the shattered beads on the ground and laughed: 'Master, your strand, blessed by your ancestral master and forged from a ten-thousand-year Qilin inner core, is surprisingly brittle—it cracked under sunlight.'

Sweat beaded like peas on the big monk’s greasy face.

Clearly, a high-level cultivator had intervened!

This invisible attack had shattered the strand silently—could just as easily have exploded his skull.

Though this was Longhu Mountain, and no one dared kill here under the authority of the Tian Shi Mansion and the Old Tian Shi,

he wouldn’t lose his life—but if he still refused to admit fault, he’d face severe punishment.

Trembling, the big monk offered a half-credible excuse:

'Amitabha—this strand could not withstand the noble destiny of your esteemed persons, and shattered of its own accord.'

Only then did Zhang Jie speak calmly: 'Master, don’t trouble yourself to see us off.'

'Venerable patrons, I shall take my leave.'

The big monk, now recognizing who had acted, dared not linger—he rolled up his bundle and fled like smoke.

'Jie Ge, are we just letting him go?'

Zhang Chulan was indignant.

Such blatant fraud, targeting Bao’er Jie—

this wasn’t just an ordinary scammer; he needed a heavy blow!

Zhang Chulan thought perhaps the North China Bureau could spare him a private cell,

letting him spend ten days or so in free company meals.

Maybe the bland cafeteria food there would help this fat monk lose some weight.

Zhang Jie gave Zhang Chulan a look of exasperation:

'He didn’t rob anyone—it was a mutual transaction, the amount was small—what can we do to him?'

This monk’s behavior was similar to those livestream sellers from before my reincarnation, who left behind the famous 'The water here’s too deep, you can’t handle it—let your Uncle Pan do it' and the 'Gazi stealing dogs' memes.

Netizens familiar with Gazi’s livestream sales often wondered:

—Gazi sold so many expensive, low-quality fake wines—why wasn’t he ever called in for a tea chat?

There’s a misconception here: the wine Gazi sold wasn’t fake.

He simply ordered bulk wine from small distilleries, repackaged it as premium brands like XO or Rémy Martin,

then marked up the price to fleece the gullible.

Is it fake? No—it’s real wine.

Is it worth it? No—it’s cheap liquor from a small factory; Gazi barely made 80–90% profit.

And legally, he broke no law—no regulation forbids selling ordinary wine at high prices.

Rich tycoons still tip online streamers hundreds of thousands or even millions.

It’s all about mutual consent.

Of course, Gazi was eventually called in for a tea chat—for livestreaming in his uncle’s uniform.

The whole point is mutual consent.

'Understood, Jie Ge.'

Zhang Chulan snapped back to reality, realizing he’d overreacted.

Zhang Jie didn’t blame him; though his arrival had prevented Zhang Chulan and Feng Baobao from becoming master and slave,

over these days of companionship, the bond between 'Lan' and 'Bao' had clearly formed.

Zhang Chulan had already begun taking over the responsibility of protecting Feng Baobao from Xu San, Xu Si, and the rest of the Xu family—it was simply concern clouding judgment.

'My ten-thousand-year Qilin inner core Banhongliuli strand...'

Feng Baobao still couldn’t let go of her 'destiny,' crouching on the ground, staring at the shattered beads, murmuring to herself.

'Bao’er Jie, this isn’t a ten-thousand-year Qilin inner core strand—it’s just a red glass bead strand.' Zhang Chulan sighed, explaining to her.

“My ten-thousand-year qilin inner elixir forged into a Ban red Liuli strand…”

Feng Baobao turned to look at Zhang Jie.

Over these days, Zhang Jie’s reliable image had taken deep root.

'Chulan is right—this is just a red glass bead strand, a modern handicraft.'

Zhang Jie nodded, agreeing with Zhang Chulan’s assessment.

This monk didn’t even bother spending real money—he could’ve at least used red crystal!

Red glass? It’s no different from the colored glass marbles we played with as kids.

“Chulan is right—this is a glass string made of red Liuli , a kind of modern handicraft.”

Zhang Jie nodded, agreeing with Zhang Chulan’s judgment.

This big monk won’t even spend the cost to deceive properly—why not use red crystal at least?

Red glass? Isn’t it just like the colored glass marbles we played with as kids?