Chapter 161: The Coffin

As they walked forward a few steps, the roadside was lit with lanterns, and the bustling shops were mostly gambling houses. The clatter of dice, the sound of tiles colliding, and the gamblers’ shouts blended together, shattering the silence of the snowy night.

Along the way, Gu Ning’an and Mu Sheng saw many desperate gamblers causing trouble, only to be beaten up by the gambling house enforcers and thrown into the snow.

Each time Mu Sheng witnessed such a scene, her brows furrowed for a long while.

So, when she saw the eighth gambler with a bruised and swollen face, Mu Sheng pulled Gu Ning’an away and finally spoke, “Sir, when I was a child, I saw people in my village gambling too. One of them ended up losing everything and hanged himself in the end…”

“This gambling truly ruins lives. Though it’s hard to ban, isn’t there too much of it here?”

Gu Ning’an said calmly, “Nothing more than the local officials turning a blind eye—or worse, profiting from it.”

“Ah…” Mu Sheng sighed, exhaling a cloud of white mist. “How far are we from the lumber shop?”

“According to the property broker, we’ll reach it after this street.”

“Then let’s hurry. Staying on this street makes me feel uncomfortable.”

Watching Mu Sheng stride ahead, Gu Ning’an chuckled. “Alright.”

A stick of incense’s time later, just as they reached the end of the long street, a figure suddenly appeared at the corner.

The person moved hurriedly, bundled in thick clothing. Upon spotting Gu Ning’an and Mu Sheng, he approached, pulling open his coat to reveal several black stones tucked inside.

At a glance, Gu Ning’an immediately knew what he was.

Such people were called “stone brokers”, or “stone dealers”, itinerant vendors who sold raw ore that might contain jade.

These “stone brokers” differed from those who ran gambling stalls for jade stones. The raw materials in their hands were few, the chances of yielding jade even lower—sometimes entirely nonexistent, as they might be selling fake ore.

However, at jade gambling stalls, even the smallest stone could cost at least a dozen taels of silver—far beyond what the average person could afford.

And so, these “stone brokers” emerged. Their materials were poor, with both real and fake pieces of uncertain origin, but they were cheap—usually priced at a few dozen copper coins, with the most expensive ones barely reaching a hundred copper.

This gave ordinary people, who dreamed of striking it rich with a single cut, a chance to gamble.

“G-good stones,” the stone broker said through chattering teeth. “Ten copper each, all from the big stone workshops…”

Gu Ning’an waved his hand. “No need.”

Unwilling to give up, the broker pressed on, “Just the other day, I sold one that revealed an icy jade—market price, two hundred taels!”

“Ten copper—just the price of a few steamed buns…”

“Thank you, but no.”

Seeing Gu Ning’an’s firm refusal, the broker forced a smile, muttered a quick “Sorry for disturbing,” and continued searching for his next customer in the frigid night.

Not long after, Gu Ning’an and Mu Sheng found the lumber shop mentioned by the broker.

The shop had no name. A wide wooden door, large enough for two people to pass through, stood open. A curtain hanging at the entrance to block the wind and snow fluttered inward with the breeze.

Stepping over the threshold, they entered to find an old man sitting by a firewood stove, hands tucked into his sleeves for warmth.

“What can I do for you, honored guests?” The old man stood up with a smile, rubbing his hands as he walked toward Gu Ning’an. “We have all kinds of fresh timber here, guaranteed quality. If any piece is bad, we’ll compensate you.”

Looking at the room filled with stacks of wood, Gu Ning’an pointed at Mu Sheng beside him and said, “She will be choosing the wood. Just attend to her.”

“Huh?” The old man was momentarily stunned, then turned to Mu Sheng with a smile. “Miss, are you looking for wood to make a bed, a dressing table, or perhaps an outhouse seat?”

Mu Sheng’s expression remained cold as she uttered two words: “A coffin.”

Whooosh—

A gust of cold wind swept in through the door!

The old man shrank his neck, cleared his throat, and forced an awkward smile. “A coffin, huh… We have plenty of wood suitable for making those.”

“Nanmu, rosewood, pine, cedar…”

Mu Sheng paid no attention to his introductions. She silently sifted through the woodpile, carefully selecting pieces one by one.

After half an hour of picking and choosing, she pointed at a piece of nanmu and said indifferently, “How much?”

“This one?”

“Miss, you have quite the sharp eye!” The old man chuckled. “This nanmu is practically the pride of my shop!”

Just as he was about to continue his sales pitch, Mu Sheng looked straight at him and said sternly, “Just name the price.”

“You get straight to the point! Ten taels of silver, and it’s yours,” the old man said with a smile.

Mu Sheng replied flatly, “Three taels.”

“…What?” Thinking he had misheard, the old man dug a finger into his ear. “Miss, this is nanmu! Where could you find it for just three taels of silver?”

“But since you two don’t sound like locals, and fate has brought you here to buy wood from me, I’ll give you a special discount—eight taels. How about that?”

Mu Sheng said calmly, “It’s for a funeral. Taking a smaller profit is an act of merit. Five taels.”

“This…” The old man hesitated, but before he could respond, Mu Sheng spoke again, “Five taels is already a fair price. You’re still making a profit.”

“…Fine, fine. Since it’s for a funeral, I’ll take five taels,” the old man muttered, pursing his lips. “Leave your address. It’s late, and the delivery workers are already off for the night. I’ll have it delivered to you tomorrow morning. You can pay upon delivery.”

Mu Sheng replied, “De Ping Courtyard.”

“De Ping Courtyard…” The old man repeated the name, nodding. “Alright, I’ve noted it down. I’ll have it delivered at hour of the Dragon (7–9 AM) tomorrow. Does that work?”

“That’s fine.” With that, Mu Sheng took off the large wooden case from her back, opened it, and pulled out a rasp. She walked up to the selected nanmu and carved a small mark on it.

The old man immediately understood her intention—she was marking the wood to prevent him from swapping it for another piece.

But what if the address she gave was fake? If she didn’t show up to buy it, this marked wood would be unsellable!

“T-This… This… This…!” The old man pointed at the wood, furrowing his brows. “What if—”

Before he could finish, Gu Ning’an, who had remained silent until now, spoke up, “Sir, I’ll leave three qian¹ as a deposit.”

Seeing Gu Ning’an so straightforwardly produce the three qian, the old man’s expression eased, and his brows relaxed. “Well, honestly, a deposit isn’t necessary—I can tell you two are trustworthy.”

“Then we’ll be going. Thank you for your trouble,” Gu Ning’an said, and with that, he and Mu Sheng, now carrying her wooden case again, left the lumber shop.

The old man weighed the silver in his hand and clicked his tongue. “That little girl looks young, but her eye for quality—and her bargaining skills—are as sharp as a seasoned trader…”