Chapter 8: We Can Get Married in Three More Years

“A kid?” The bartender followed the man's gaze, but after a single glance, he looked away, appearing uninterested. “She is quite small.”

“Not that small.” Fu Yunshen gave a low laugh, his tone languid. “In three years, she’ll reach the legal marriageable age.”

“...” The bartender didn't know how to respond to that. He shook his head and lowered his voice. “Be careful. There’s a bounty on you.”

“Hmm?” Fu Yunshen arched an eyebrow, unsurprised. “How much?”

“An SS-rank bounty. One billion USD. Currently ranked seventh on the bounty list.” The bartender stared at him. “At least ten people on the Hunter List have accepted this bounty. Do you realize now how much people hate you?”

Anyone in the top ten of the bounty list was considered fair game; failing to kill them was seen as turning one's back on money.

Fu Yunshen’s peach-blossom eyes curved slightly, carrying a hint of allure. “Then they’ll have to find me first.”

The bartender actually agreed with this. He said, “Even the IBI can't find you. Your concealment abilities are likely second only to the number one person on the list.”

The IBI, short for the International Bureau of Investigation, was a department specialized in combating criminal activities.

“That’s not a fair comparison,” Fu Yunshen said nonchalantly. “The number one spot hasn't changed in years, and I've only just joined.”

The bounty for the number one spot on the list was greater than the other nine combined—so high it was comparable to the GDP of a small European nation. Yet, no one had ever claimed it, which showed just how difficult the top rank was to kill.

No, it would be more accurate to say they couldn't even find him.

“I’m truly curious, who exactly is this 'Divine Calculator'?” The bartender clicked his tongue. “How is 'he' even more hated than you?”

Other targets on the bounty list at least left a trail, but this number one person was like a ghost; there was no information whatsoever.

Furthermore, the title "Divine Calculator" was excessively arrogant.

Even the skilled sorcerers and witches of ancient Europe wouldn't dare call themselves divine calculators.

There were modern-day diviners, but much like ancient martial artists, few were the real deal. Most had gone into seclusion, leaving behind only a handful of fraudulent charlatans.

If someone truly could calculate everything, it would be utterly absurd.

Fu Yunshen lifted his peach-blossom eyes, a half-smile playing on his lips. “What kind of talk is that?”

“The truth. You’re already hated, and you still need to be careful. One billion dollars is enough to buy an island; you know that. Those hunters on the list are like madmen. However—” The bartender frowned. “Do you really intend to stay here? I thought you’d at least go to the Imperial Capital.”

“Mm.” Fu Yunshen’s eyelids drooped slightly, his attention drifting. “I’ll be staying in Shanghai for a while.”

Hearing this, an absurd thought suddenly popped into the bartender's mind: “For a woman?”

Fu Yunshen raised an eyebrow, unhurried. “What are you saying? She’s still just a kid.”

The bartender’s expression shifted. “You’re insane.”

“I went insane long ago.” Fu Yunshen stood up, draping his coat over his arm. He smiled with a sense of cynicism and patted the bartender on the shoulder. “Drink less. It’s bad for your health.”

**

The underground market required no identification for entry. All sorts of people were there, though many deliberately concealed their identities.

Various shops lined both sides of the road, their architecture differing according to the goods they sold.

There were ancient Roman, Gothic, and Baroque styles from Europe, as well as classical Chinese garden-style architecture.

As Ying Zijin looked up, she noticed the shops hanging signs that read "Divination." At a glance, there were at least a dozen such shops.

However, only one of them had a faint flow of spiritual energy.

Tarot cards were a divination tool originating from Europe that became very popular during the Middle Ages. She had followed the trend and played with them before, though their true origins remained a mystery.

But genuine Tarot cards were rare. The ones currently sold on the market were barely useful for minor divination events; in any other circumstance, they were just a pile of scrap paper.

Perhaps, before her abilities were fully restored, she should find a real deck of Tarot cards.

Lost in thought, Ying Zijin adjusted her mask, lowered her eyelashes, and walked deeper into the market.

Aside from the shops, there were many street stalls nearby, mostly displaying broken antiques. However, this didn't stop buyers looking for a bargain from being swindled.

The girl scanned the area casually. In just ten seconds, she had observed over a hundred antiques. As expected, every single one of them was a fake.

It wasn't until half an hour later that Ying Zijin finally saw what she needed.

It was an ancient coin, mixed in with a pile of celadon ceramics, looking completely unremarkable.

The characters stamped on the coin were heavily worn, and it was covered in dirt, making it look like a clay imitation at first glance.

She looked down, her eyes narrowing, instantly calculating the era and name of the coin.

A Qin Dynasty silver half-large coin, minted in 339 BC during the Warring States period.

Two thousand years later, its price should be over five million.

Ying Zijin crouched down. "How much for this?"

She wasn't pointing at the coin, but at a stone bowl beside it.

The stall owner was a young man.

He glanced at the girl, sizing her up from head to toe, and replied perfunctorily, "Five hundred and take it."

Only then did Ying Zijin's finger land on the silver ancient coin. "And this one."

"Take it, take it for free," the young man waved her off. "Just take everything and don't get in the way of my business."

After laying down her only five hundred yuan, Ying Zijin picked up the coin and the stone bowl.

The other stall owners had no customers either and were chatting among themselves.

"You're lucky, kid. You made five hundred for nothing today."

"Don't even mention it. I haven't sold a single item today. Why is no one buying from me?"

The young man counted the money, looking pleased. "Isn't it because I ran into a sucker? If only I had more customers like that."

The stone bowl was something he had bought for a few cents online, and the coin was something he had picked up in Nanyi Park.

They were worthless, used merely as filler.

He hadn't expected someone to actually buy them, allowing him to make five hundred yuan with ease.

[Author's Note The Sovereign: I thought you were the Bounty List, turns out you're my bestie. Ying Zijin, who just wants to retire: Not really. Rumor has it my trope is having a list in the book? IBI: Prototype is the FBI]

(End of Chapter)