A swindler? That was Edward Harris's first impression. If he really had a treasure, would he bring him to this corner to make the exchange? If this had happened in his previous life, he would have turned around and left immediately. “There’s a pawnshop not far ahead. If you really have a treasure, why not just pawn it directly?”

“Hmph, what do they know about the value of this treasure?” Samuel Reed said angrily.

“If it’s really a treasure, take it out and let me see.” Edward Harris had already slowly taken several steps back. At this point, he could see the thugs outside the casino, but he wasn’t too worried. Even if something did happen, he wasn’t afraid.

Hearing that Edward Harris was interested in his treasure, Samuel Reed immediately took out an item wrapped in cloth from his chest. “Young Master Harris, please take a look. This is my treasure.”

“It’s just an old, tattered book. What’s so special about it?” Edward Harris let Samuel Reed open the cloth himself. Layer after layer, and inside was just a thin book.

“Young Master Harris, don’t underestimate this book. It’s an ancient book, with several hundred years of history,” boasted Samuel Reed.

He wasn’t exactly lying—this book did have a long history. Samuel Reed was a gambler, lazy and gluttonous. People like him either became thieves or robbers, and Samuel Reed specialized in grave robbing. Not long ago, he dug up an ancient tomb. There wasn’t much inside; after pawning off some antiques, all that was left was a longsword and this ancient book. He didn’t dare to take out the sword easily, so he buried it in his backyard. He had also taken the book to a pawnshop and asked the shopkeeper, but they only offered five wen, so Samuel Reed couldn’t bear to pawn it.

Today, he saw Edward Harris win dozens of strings of cash at the casino, and Edward Harris looked like a scholar. Scholars must be interested in books, right? Maybe he could sell this book to him for a better price.

“What use is a book from hundreds of years ago to me? Look, the cover is all damaged.” Edward Harris just glanced at it briefly. He knew which books were most valuable to collectors in history. This was the Song Dynasty, when printing was highly developed. Hundreds of years ago, there probably wasn’t even paper, so how could there be books? This was clearly a scam.

“Though it’s damaged, it’s still readable. Young Master Harris, just buy it.” Samuel Reed had been hanging around the casino all afternoon, and his hands were itching to gamble. For him, unless he was completely broke, he would sell anything that could be turned into money. If the pawnshop hadn’t offered such a low price, he would have sold it long ago.

“Let me take a look at the book first.” Edward Harris wanted to see what kind of book it was. If it was just one of the Four Books or Five Classics, he might as well buy one from a bookstore outside.

“Take a look, I guarantee you’ll like it at first sight,” said Samuel Reed.

“‘The Four Classics of Internal Arts’?” Edward Harris wondered if he could really be this lucky. This kind of thing only happened in novels! He quickly flipped through the book. There were some illustrations of people inside, with red dots and lines drawn on them. He immediately realized he had stumbled upon a real treasure, but on the surface, Edward Harris remained calm: “How much do you want for this book?”

“This much.” Samuel Reed stared at Edward Harris’s face but didn’t see any reaction. Originally, he thought that since Edward Harris had won money today, looked like a scholar, and was still young, this deal should be easy. But now, looking at him, this Young Master Harris seemed even shrewder than the shopkeepers outside. So he didn’t dare to quote a price directly, just held up two fingers, meaning two hundred wen would do, but if he offered two strings, he’d gladly accept that too.

But Edward Harris wasn’t falling for it. He’d seen too many scenes like this on TV—someone holds up one finger, meaning one or two, but it’s misunderstood as a hundred, a thousand, or even ten thousand. He didn’t want to be tricked like that. “How much is that, two wen?”

“Two wen?!” Samuel Reed stared wide-eyed at Edward Harris, almost coughing up blood from anger. Was this the fat sheep he’d been searching for? The more he looked, the more this guy seemed like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “Young Master Harris, aren’t you bargaining a bit too hard? How about this, no haggling—two hundred wen!”

“Just kidding, I actually thought you meant two strings. Two hundred wen is fine, deal.” Edward Harris straightforwardly handed him a note.

“Two strings?” Samuel Reed really wanted to slap himself. Why play games and miss out on a big profit? But once he had the money in hand, Samuel Reed quickly forgot about Edward Harris still reading the book, and jogged straight back into the casino...