Chapter 17
Chapter 17: A Real-Life Case of Buying the Box and Returning the Pearl
Xiao Mei couldn’t figure it out. The question gnawed at her until she couldn’t make herself leave.
In the end, she crossed to the milk-tea shop opposite the pawnshop, ordered a drink, and sat where she could watch the door.
Meanwhile, Xiao Ying Chun knocked and stepped inside.
Dai Heng Xin was boiling water, preparing tea. The moment he saw her, he straightened and walked over with a welcoming smile. “You’re here?”
Xiao Ying Chun returned the smile. “No need to be so polite.”
They’d shared a meal. The distance between them wasn’t gone, but it was thinner than before.
Dai Heng Xin went to lock the door and explained as he did, “You’re the only honored guest this morning. I don’t want interruptions.”
Xiao Ying Chun glanced at the transparent glass and nodded. Fair enough.
By the time Dai Heng Xin turned back, she’d already pulled a casket from her bag—an inlaid jewelry box, its surface threaded with gold and silver and shimmering shell.
The instant Dai Heng Xin saw it, his expression changed.
His eyes went wide, almost hungry.
He moved quickly—pulled the street-facing curtain down, switched on every light in the room, then came back and sat with the careful solemnity of a man approaching a relic.
He put on gloves before even touching it.
Xiao Ying Chun felt a jolt of nervousness. “What… what is it? Is the box that valuable?”
The moment Dai Heng Xin lifted it, he froze. “It’s weighted.” He looked up sharply. “There’s something inside?”
Xiao Ying Chun nodded. “Yes…”
Dai Heng Xin’s face tightened with alarm. “You put things inside this casket?” He set it down like it might bruise. “If it gets scratched, the value drops immediately—”
He opened it, clearly intending to remove the contents carefully.
Then he saw what was inside.
A casket full of jewelry.
For a second, he just stared, as if his brain had stopped working.
His heartbeat seemed to slam into the room. He looked like a man who’d swallowed a live engine.
Xiao Ying Chun cleared her throat. “I only wanted you to tell me if these are valuable, and how much they’re worth…”
Dai Heng Xin didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached under a side table and pulled out a large tray lined with velvet.
Then, piece by piece, he lifted jewelry out of the casket with exaggerated care, laying each item onto the velvet like it was a sleeping creature.
When the first tray filled, he went and got a second without a word.
At last, with the empty casket and two velvet trays in front of him, he sat back like he’d finished disarming a bomb.
He opened his mouth, closed it, tried again. Finally he said, unable to hold it in, “Miss Xiao, can I make a suggestion?”
“Go ahead,” Xiao Ying Chun said, raising a hand.
“In the future, can you please store things like this properly? Separate boxes, categorized.” His voice was gentle but pained. “Mixing them together like that… it’s bad for them.”
Bad was an understatement. He’d just spotted a fresh scratch on a gold hairpin, and his soul looked like it had taken damage.
Xiao Ying Chun nodded, a little embarrassed. “Next time, I’ll be careful.”
Dai Heng Xin looked at her twice, doubt flickering. He didn’t argue. He just pushed the trays aside and picked up the casket again.
He examined it like a man possessed—fingertips hovering, nose close, magnifying glass out, studying grain and sheen and the way the inlay caught light.
When he finally set the magnifying glass down, his expression was grave.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
Xiao Ying Chun answered cautiously, “A jewelry casket?”
Dai Heng Xin nodded like someone accepting a tragic truth. “Yes. But the workmanship and materials are top-tier.”
He tapped the wood lightly. “Agarwood. Mother-of-pearl inlay. Gold and silver thread. Christie’s auctioned a mother-of-pearl inlay jewelry casket before—less delicate than this, smaller than this—and it sold for twenty million.”
Xiao Ying Chun’s mouth opened slowly and stayed that way.
Twenty million… for a box?
A cold fear crawled up her spine. “If I sold something like this… would I go to prison?”
Dai Heng Xin immediately softened. “No. Just owning it isn’t illegal.” His gaze sharpened again. “But don’t show it to anyone else.”
“Why?”
“Because people are people.” His voice went low. “If an ordinary person sees something this valuable, it’s hard not to get ideas.”
Xiao Ying Chun swallowed and nodded fast. “Okay. I won’t show anyone else. I swear.”
Dai Heng Xin studied her face, then asked, “Do you still want the explanation?”
“Yes,” Xiao Ying Chun said quickly. “Tell me.”
So he explained—professional, precise, and relentless, as if he needed her to understand what she was holding.
In the end, he concluded, “If this could go to auction, it probably wouldn’t sell for less than that one.”
Xiao Ying Chun nodded stiffly, then pointed at the jewelry trays. “And those?”
Dai Heng Xin brought the trays forward and indicated a cluster of matching pieces. “These are a set. See? Same pattern. Pearls and gemstones. The craftsmanship is good, but the price won’t be that high.”
He did the math aloud, almost reluctantly. “That set is under a million. The remaining pieces… together, a little over a million.”
Xiao Ying Chun stared.
So this was real life: buying the box and returning the pearl.
The box was worth more than everything inside it.
Her throat worked. “Then… I’ll take it all back.”
Dai Heng Xin didn’t argue. He went to a cabinet and pulled out several velvet jewelry boxes.
“Don’t put the jewelry back in this casket,” he said firmly. “I’ll give you boxes. Store them separately.”
Xiao Ying Chun nodded, still dazed. “Okay.”
Dai Heng Xin started to hand her the empty boxes, then paused. One look at her expression told him she had no idea how to secure antique jewelry properly.
With a resigned sigh, he did it himself—fitting each piece into velvet slots, fastening clasps, making sure nothing could rub or collide.
Xiao Ying Chun accepted the boxes and stuffed them into her backpack like she was storing snacks, not a fortune.
Dai Heng Xin winced.
Then he looked at the casket again, clearly unable to tolerate what he was seeing. He took out a larger box, placed the casket inside, cushioned it carefully, and closed it.
It still wouldn’t fit into Xiao Ying Chun’s backpack.
So he grabbed a sports duffel bag, placed the boxed casket inside, and zipped it up. “I’ll drive you home later. Put it away somewhere safe.”
“Okay,” Xiao Ying Chun said.
Once everything was packed, Dai Heng Xin nodded toward her backpack. “Anything else you want me to look at?”
Xiao Ying Chun hesitated, then asked, “Do you still buy gold ingots? Like the last ones.”
Dai Heng Xin swallowed. “Yes.”
Xiao Ying Chun reached into her backpack and pulled out four wads of toilet paper, setting them on the table with exaggerated care. She leaned in and whispered like it mattered. “I didn’t smash them. I didn’t press hard.”
Dai Heng Xin stared at the toilet paper like it was a threat.
He opened the first wad.
A ten-tael gold ingot.
His jaw tightened. He visibly swallowed the urge to blurt, holy shit.
He opened the second.
The third.
The fourth.
Four ten-tael gold ingots, identical to the last batch.
This time, he didn’t even reach for them. He lifted his eyes instead. “Do you mind if I call my uncle over?”
Xiao Ying Chun nodded easily. “Do whatever you want. I’m fine with it.”
Backup again.
The student was about to call in a big shot.