Chapter 224: The Golden Jar Makes Its Debut

Old Four Worm looked at me with an air of innocence and said, “This place of mine might be a bit unclean, but it won’t affect our work.”

Work… Right. My mind immediately went somewhere else.

Just then, Old Four Worm pulled out a fertilizer bag from under the bed, its exterior covered in yellow dirt. Two black threadworms were guarding the opening—probably to prevent theft.

He took out the contents of the bag and said, “Here, take a look. Do you notice anything unusual?”

I examined them. Some of the photos showed Secretary Jia’s office, its layout meticulously arranged according to feng shui principles. Many high-ranking officials rely on feng shui masters to arrange their spaces, thinking it’ll bring them quick promotions and wealth instead of actually doing real work. It’s truly pathetic.

The rest of the photos were mostly blurry images of a Taoist priest standing behind Mayor Wu. I asked, “Why are none of these clear? Who exactly is this priest?”

Old Four Worm replied, “He’s very secretive. I’ve tried taking photos of him several times in secret, but none turned out clear. He might be using some kind of Taoist trickery.”

I pressed further, “Aside from the power struggle between Secretary Jia and Mayor Wu, do you have any other grudges against him?”

Old Four Worm sighed. “Since we’re working together now, I’ll tell you. He’s in business, and so am I. Naturally, there’s competition between us.”

“Business?”

“He’s a priest who sells elixirs. I’m a worm master who helps people with my techniques. Obviously, there’s bound to be conflict.”

I shook my head. “You’re both shady characters. Making money like this—don’t you realize it’s all taken from the people?”

Old Four Worm chuckled. “I don’t keep it for myself.”

He didn’t elaborate further and went back to analyzing the materials in the bag. Suddenly, I remembered what Yi Miao had said about the priests from Mount Sanqing specializing in elixir-making. I asked, “Is this priest from Mount Sanqing?”

Old Four Worm looked up at me. “Seems like it.”

My heart raced—what a coincidence! I smirked mysteriously. “Someone might recognize him.”

Old Four Worm frowned. “Really?”

I took a photo of the priest’s back, exchanged a few words with Old Four Worm, and agreed to reconnect once I had more leads. Meanwhile, he planned to intercept the priest. We split up to take action.

As we left the rental house, the landlady—who had just won some money—cheerfully called out, “Mr. Worm, your money really brings good luck! I’ve almost made back my losses!”

Old Four Worm replied humbly, “Nah, it’s all your luck.”

Before parting, I reminded him, “You better return those 300 yuan.”

He grinned. “Once this is over, I’ll pay you back with an extra 10 yuan interest. Oh, and can you lend me another 10 for a pack of cigarettes?”

I was speechless.

—

By the time I got the priest’s photo, it was already 3 PM. Worried that Xie Xiaoyu might misbehave and Yi Miao wouldn’t be able to handle her, I quickly took a taxi back to the hotel.

Xie Xiaoyu was in the room, watching *Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf*, giggling from time to time. When I entered, she just smiled at me. Little Rascal and the kitten were resting quietly nearby.

Yi Miao and Lian Xiaoyao were nowhere to be seen—probably out shopping. Little Rascal whined, hungry. Just then, Yi Miao and Lian Xiaoyao returned with beef noodles and a few duck necks, which looked incredibly tempting.

I swallowed my drool, ate a couple of duck necks, then pulled out the priest’s side-profile photo and asked Yi Miao if he recognized him.

Yi Miao only needed one glance before putting down his duck neck. “That’s Zhen Yangzi. His nose hair is thick, and the back of his head is pointy.”

I licked my fingers clean.

Lian Xiaoyao shook her head in disgust. “That’s so unhygienic. No wonder you’re single.” Yi Miao did the same, and Lian Xiaoyao snorted before joining Xie Xiaoyu to watch the cartoon.

In the episode, Big Big Wolf had failed for the 1,001st time, yet he still mustered the courage to keep trying—all for the sake of feeding his wife and child. The saddest part? His son, Little Grey, insisted on going to school in the sheep village and had already befriended the lambs.

But that’s just a cartoon. In the real world, wolves and sheep never become friends.

I took back the photo. “You’re sure it’s Zhen Yangzi? What’s he doing in Jiangnan City?”

Yi Miao frowned. “Nothing good, I bet. Think about it—he sold his elixir furnace for five million. That alone tells you he’s no saint. And during the deal, he even betrayed his own disciple. A guy like that has multiple heads, and every single one is rotten.”

This was the first time I’d heard Yi Miao speak so harshly about someone. Despite being a lay Taoist, he clearly despised the corrupt ones in his field.

I warned Yi Miao not to get involved with whatever Zhen Yangzi was doing here.

I hadn’t told anyone about my work for Secretary Jia. Political power struggles were dangerous, and neither of us had any experience in that world—where betrayal could come from anywhere.

Yi Miao nodded. “I get it. I’ll watch your dog, cat, and your beautiful companion. But let me tell you, Zhen Yangzi isn’t simple. When I first went up the mountain, he used me. He didn’t even blink when his two disciples were eaten by a python. The only way to deal with someone like him is to be ruthless—finish him off in one go.”

I asked, “And if I can’t?”

Yi Miao smiled grimly. “Then I’ll do it for you. I know you’re soft-hearted, Xiao Qi. But if Zhen Yangzi crosses the line, and you hesitate, I’ll step in.”

I stayed silent. He was right—I was too soft when it mattered. I’d tried to change, but some traits are ingrained too deep.

Yi Miao added, “Don’t feel bad about it. If it’s about cleaning up the Taoist world’s scum, it’s my duty. I’m a Taoist; you’re a feng shui master.”

His words were simple, but they lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Just then, Xie Xiaoyu and Lian Xiaoyao burst out laughing. On screen, Big Big Wolf had fallen into water, and two ferocious crocodiles were chasing him, biting his tail.

“I’ll be back!” the wolf howled.

—

I went online to research Mount Sanqing’s history and learned that it had a long Taoist tradition, with many dynasties funding its temples. Countless famous priests had emerged from there.

Yi Miao explained some Taoist techniques—some so absurd they sounded like myths. Like priests who could travel a thousand miles in a day using Taoist arts. When I scoffed, he insisted it was real—his own master had done it.

I argued, “Even if it’s possible, nowadays anyone can travel a thousand miles in a few hours by plane.”

Yi Miao shrugged. “Just an example. There are also combat techniques—like the ‘Gang Qi’ you see in martial arts novels. Wang Chongyang dominated the martial world with his innate Gang Qi. Some powerful priests can cultivate it too. Zhen Yangzi might use such tricks if he wants to hurt someone. Be careful.”

His warnings unsettled me. I’d stumbled upon ancient Taoist texts before, detailing techniques like earth-diving or summoning thunderbolts. But the crucial parts were always obscured—deliberately, to prevent outsiders from learning them.

This secrecy meant many techniques had been lost over time. Or maybe modern disciples simply didn’t need to master flying a thousand miles when technology could do it for them.

After our discussion, I logged into QQ and found a message from Monk Hua Changsheng—a link to a Sotheby’s auction page. A dazzling golden Tang Dynasty jar was set to be auctioned on April 1st.

Sotheby’s description was brief: the jar was likely mid-Tang, when gold and silver craftsmanship peaked. Its purpose was vaguely described as possibly a boudoir item. The patterns matched those on the copper and silver jars I’d seen before. If it was being auctioned at Sotheby’s, it had to be genuine.

My breath hitched. “The last jar has finally surfaced! I’ve been waiting for you.”

After the copper jar and the silver jar (which I’d seen on Hua Chongyang), I’d suspected a golden one existed.

But I never expected it to appear at a public auction. This would undoubtedly spark a fierce battle among those who knew its true value. Who had put it up for sale? Was there a trap?

Hua Changsheng’s message included an invitation to join him in Hong Kong.

I agreed without hesitation.

Then my phone rang. It was Old Four Worm.

“I found the priest. Get here fast.”