Chapter Seventeen: She Seems to Have Grown Up Again

“Uncle Wang, I want this Super Planet notebook. Name your price.” From the densely displayed digital products, Zhuang Xiaoyuan fished out a palm-sized, phone-shaped device and addressed Uncle Wang.

Still reeling from the earlier conversation between Old Zhao and Zhuang Xiaoyuan, Uncle Wang instinctively quoted his preset price. “Eight thousand.”

“Hm, the Super Planet notebook is indeed worth about that.” Nodding with mock solemnity, Zhuang Xiaoyuan pointed to the back of the device. “But, Uncle Wang, there’s a problem with the Super Planet logo. It’s supposed to be a circle, but yours has a notch.”

“Well… You have sharp eyes. Sometimes these things do come with a little chip.” Uncle Wang took a closer look. There really was a notch, barely noticeable unless you scrutinized it. It was clearly a manufacturing flaw, a minor blemish, but nothing serious—he didn’t take it to heart.

“And the size is wrong too. The real ultra-thin model is only three millimeters thick, but this one’s at least a centimeter.” Producing a ruler from who-knows-where, Zhuang Xiaoyuan measured the thickness of the device as she spoke.

“Well, sometimes you get extra material, you know? More for the same price.” Uncle Wang was starting to feel uneasy. The real Super Planet notebook was famous for its ultra-thin design, only three millimeters thick, but would anyone really notice something like that?

“And the feel is off. The real one uses Oum warm glass, it’s supposed to feel warm to the touch. But this one is icy cold.” Without pressing the previous point, Zhuang Xiaoyuan calmly retracted her ruler, placing her palm against the notebook’s screen.

“Well, the weather’s getting colder, and if you leave Oum warm glass out long enough it’ll get cold too, just like human skin. Don’t you think?” Cold sweat broke out on Uncle Wang’s forehead; now he realized this girl wasn’t just experienced, she was a true master—an expert at turning the tables on tricksters.

“Look, there’s also this…” Zhuang Xiaoyuan didn’t dwell on any single issue, immediately pointing out another flaw.

“All right, all right, say no more. I’m not selling it, okay?” Uncle Wang was on the verge of tears. Did people think selling knockoffs was easy?

The wholesale cost of genuine products was already high, with barely any capital to spare. Selling knockoffs brought in more customers, and sometimes you could make a nice profit. But no one ever pointed out every single difference between the fake and the real thing like this. It was unnerving, as if he were committing some terrible crime. Was it so wrong to sell a knockoff, to quote a high price? Isn’t the whole idea to haggle? Fine, if this is how it is, I just won’t sell.

“How can you be like this? What kind of business turns away customers?” Pouting in displeasure, Zhuang Xiaoyuan glanced at Uncle Wang before turning her gaze back to the flaws on the counterfeit notebook in her hand.

“Fine, I get it. I can’t fool you. Why don’t you name your price? How much are you willing to pay?” With a resigned sigh, Uncle Wang conceded defeat.

“I’ll give you…” She held up five fingers, indicating five hundred. The moment Uncle Wang’s face changed, before he could speak, Zhuang Xiaoyuan continued, “Eight hundred. How about it? Sell it to me for eight hundred.”

His mouth opened, but he was at a loss for words. The notebook had cost him seven hundred and fifty; selling it for eight hundred meant a fifty profit—not a loss, but hardly a way to make a living. Still, there was no loss. Thinking back to how Zhuang Xiaoyuan had picked out every single flaw, he could only swallow his frustration.

Handing over eight hundred-yuan bills, Zhuang Xiaoyuan pocketed the Super Planet notebook without bothering with the packaging. She waved at Old Zhao with a cheerful “Bye-bye” and strode off toward her original destination. The pharmacy where she always bought her potions was at the far end of South Street, near another entrance, which meant she’d have to walk the entire length.

“Come now, Wang, don’t be upset. Welcome to South Street.” Old Zhao patted the disheartened Uncle Wang, chuckling.

“Uncle Zhao, you’re still laughing? Look at my business. By the way, do you know that girl?” Uncle Wang frowned, still unwilling to let it go.

“Haha, you’re not a true South Street merchant until you’ve either been helped or outwitted by Xiaoyuan,” Old Zhao said with a note of pride.

“She’s that famous?” Watching Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s departing figure, there was a look of surprise in Uncle Wang’s eyes, though no one noticed the sudden flicker of red in his pupils.

Although South Street was one of the city’s rare shopping streets, it wasn’t actually very long—only about six or seven hundred meters from end to end. Humming a tune, Zhuang Xiaoyuan soon arrived at the Romm Pharmacy near the other entrance. The shop sold all sorts of potions, from ordinary cold remedies and wound salves to advanced training and healing concoctions. The effects weren’t quite as good as official products, but the prices were far more reasonable.

“Uncle Romm, I’m here—” Even before she stepped inside, Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s voice reached the shop.

“I knew it. You haven’t given up, have you, Zhuang Xiaoyuan?” But the voice that answered wasn’t the stingy Uncle Romm’s, but a familiar female voice.

With the thick scent of medicine in the air, Zhuang Xiaoyuan entered the pharmacy. Standing straight at the counter and turning to face her was none other than Wen Hui, whom she hadn’t seen in days. It seemed that Wen Hui’s chest had grown again—or was it just her arms folded across her chest? Wen Hui’s expression was as composed as ever. Apparently, she hadn’t seen through Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s earlier prank, or perhaps she simply didn’t care.

“Well, I didn’t expect someone who’s already in the preparatory stage to still shop at a dump like this. Shouldn’t you be over at North Street?” Faced with Wen Hui’s haughty demeanor, Zhuang Xiaoyuan couldn’t help but throw in a jab.

“Ahem, I’m sorry my shop is such a dump, Xiaoyuan. With you saying that, I’d feel guilty not raising your price.” Though Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s remark was aimed at Wen Hui, the first to respond was actually Uncle Romm behind the counter.

“Hang on, Uncle Romm, I wasn’t insulting you. You know, a lot of legendary experts deliberately hide out in humble shops—that’s called ‘greatness lying hidden within the city.’ Uncle Romm, you’re just such an expert. How could you raise your prices and risk exposing yourself? So, how about a little discount?” At the mention of a price hike, Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s expression shifted and she immediately flattered him, laying it on thick. Judging by the look of satisfaction on Uncle Romm’s face, her tactic had worked.

“Smart move. Today… I’ll sell to you at the regular price,” Uncle Romm said, glancing at her sideways with a faint smile.

“Tsk, still no discount. Uncle Romm, you really are stingy.” Zhuang Xiaoyuan pouted helplessly.

“The stingiest one here has no right to call me stingy,” came Uncle Romm’s retort.