Don’t try to act tough in front of me!

As soon as the confrontation started, a crowd immediately gathered, all smiling and eager to watch the show. Watching these two big bosses “duel” had already become a staple of every trade fair—always a thrill.

David Harris just smiled without saying a word.

He had already made his point clear, but the two of them were still busy showing off their wealth. David Harris didn’t have much else to say.

“Two hundred and twenty thousand.”

Mr. Brooks didn’t hesitate at all and immediately raised the bid.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand!”

James Miller was even more decisive, raising by another thirty thousand in one go, not even batting an eye.

Any higher, and the price would basically be at the real market value for this Grade Five wild ginseng. If they couldn’t find a buyer interested in collecting, it might end up stuck in their hands.

But at this moment, no matter what, they couldn’t lose their momentum.

Seeing that Mr. Brooks was about to raise the price again, David Harris smiled and said, “Sorry, gentlemen, I’d like to go take a look over there.”

He left the two big bosses hanging without a second thought and walked straight toward table number thirty-two not far away, a flash of delight in his eyes, as if he had spotted some rare treasure.

Everyone looked at each other, feeling a bit disappointed.

No more drama to watch.

Still, a few people followed David Harris to table thirty-two, curious to see what kind of treasure this young man—who even William Grant treated with special respect—had discovered. They decided to check it out for themselves.

Chapter 5 Thomas Reed

The guest at table thirty-two was a man in his forties, his face glowing red, his scalp shiny and completely bald, with a burly build and arms thicker than most people’s thighs.

A truly imposing man.

But on closer inspection, something seemed a bit off. Not only was his face oily and shiny, but the exposed skin on his arms was also a vivid red, much brighter than that of other men his age, as if his whole body was brimming with energy, ready to burst out at any moment.

Those who had come to watch seemed a bit wary of this man, stopping a few meters away and not daring to get closer.

Only one man in his thirties, with a refined appearance and calm demeanor, walked up to the big man and smiled, saying, “Big Brother Reed, what good stuff have you brought this time?”

From his tone, it seemed he was quite familiar with the big man.

But the big man didn’t seem too friendly. He glanced at him and said, “The stuff’s right here. See for yourself.”

His tone was blunt and rather rude.

David Harris remembered that this big man hadn’t brought anything up earlier to have William Grant appraise.

The refined man seemed to have expected this attitude and didn’t get upset. He glanced at the box on the table. The box was small, seemingly woven from some kind of rattan, earthy yellow in color, with a black border also made of rattan. It looked plain and unremarkable.

Many of the onlookers exchanged knowing smiles.

The red-faced man had shown up at this trade fair a few times before. His surname was Deng, full name Thomas Reed—a truly imposing name. Thomas Reed wasn’t an herbal merchant or a government official. Rumor had it he came from an ethnic autonomous county in the southeast of Mountain City and was a herbalist, spending years trekking in and out of the mountains. He often dug up rare finds and brought them to the trade fair, and they were always treasures. But Mr. Reed clearly didn’t know much about business and had no concept of packaging. Although most of what he brought was valuable, the packaging was always lackluster. Like now, using some random rustic box was already pretty good—most of the time, his goods were just “naked.” For example, last time he brought a ninety-year-old polygonum multiflorum root, he just tossed it bare on the coffee table, as if it wasn’t one of the so-called “Nine Great Immortal Herbs,” but just a rotten sweet potato, not caring at all. If it didn’t sell, he might just take it home and eat it raw with his family.

Most importantly, Thomas Reed had a bad temper. If you wanted his goods, you had to name your price in one go—if it pleased him, he’d sell it to you. If you tried to bargain, he’d roll his eyes, lift his head high, and ignore you completely. If you kept pestering, you might even get punched.

He was a wild man from the mountains, strong as an ox. The others were all prominent figures, wealthy bosses—competing with such a rough mountain man was beneath them, and losing would be shameful. If he slapped you or knocked you down, there’d be nowhere to complain. Even Edward Brooks didn’t want to offend him; every time Thomas Reed came, Edward Brooks was always very polite.

No one knew why.

It was clear that this Deng fellow was quite capable.

The calm man smiled and said, “Big Brother Reed, then I’ll open it and have a look…”

Thomas Reed grunted but didn’t stop him.

No matter how bad his temper, since he was here to trade, he had to let others see the goods.

The calm man smiled, not minding his attitude at all, and casually opened the earthy yellow box with black trim. Instantly, a wave of warmth surged out.

“Whoa…”

Several exclamations of surprise rang out around them.