Sky-High Price

The chubby shopkeeper's smile disappeared, replaced by an unpleasant expression. However, he held back his words, quickly forcing a grin and instructing his workers, "Hurry up now, serve the noodles."

The shop wasn't very large, and the arrival of so many people crowded the small space, filling up every table and making the atmosphere feel cramped.

Steaming bowls of noodles were brought out one by one. At first, the beggar children were a little tense, but the sight of the hot noodle soup made them lose their composure. They couldn't resist any longer, grabbing their chopsticks and devouring the food ravenously. Some even used their hands to grab the noodles, their ravenous hunger apparent for all to see.

"Take it slow, no need to rush," Wei Changle said softly, his heart aching as he watched the scene. "Eat as much as you want, I'll cover it." Then, turning to the chubby shopkeeper, he added, "Keep the noodles coming. Prepare as much as they need until they're full."

The shopkeeper smiled and nodded repeatedly in agreement.

Wei Changle took a couple of bites himself, only to frown.

This shopkeeper had boasted that his noodle house was the best on this street, but the taste was mediocre at best—worse than the dry rations Wei Changle had eaten earlier.

However, for the beggar children, this noodle soup was nothing short of a rare delicacy, akin to dragon liver and phoenix marrow.

Like a whirlwind, the group of beggar children devoured almost all of the noodle soup the shop had prepared. Watching as the children finally filled their stomachs, Wei Changle felt a small sense of relief.

"Time to settle the bill," Wei Gu, who had been managing the expenses along the way, announced as the children finished up and prepared to leave. He gestured for the shopkeeper to come over.

The shopkeeper approached with his account book clutched in his hands and a beaming smile on his face. "Everyone had their fill, right?" He glanced at the account book and said, "Altogether, there were 67 bowls of noodle soup. Let's round it down to 60 bowls. That will be... 65 taels of silver."

"Wait a minute," Wei Changle interrupted, his sharp business acumen kicking in. He stared at the shopkeeper and asked, "Ten wen per bowl, 67 bowls should total 670 wen, which is less than seven qian of silver. How did you come up with 65 taels?"

Having been a merchant in his previous life, Wei Changle was exceptionally sensitive to numbers and accounts. Along the journey, he had also taken the time to familiarize himself with the local currency.

One tael of silver was roughly equal to 1,000 wen, and in terms of purchasing power, one wen in Da Liang was equivalent to about 20 cents in modern currency. By that calculation, the shopkeeper's earlier claim of 10 wen per bowl of noodle soup—about 2 yuan—wasn't expensive at all.

But now, the sudden leap to 65 taels was absurd. Wei Changle even wondered if he'd misheard.

"Young master, each bowl of noodle soup contains about 100 strands of noodles. I'm only charging you based on 100 strands per bowl," the chubby shopkeeper explained with a friendly smile. "Each strand of noodle costs 10 wen, so one bowl adds up to exactly 1 tael of silver. Sixty bowls would then be 60 taels. As for the extra five taels, well, I served the finest tea to your table as soon as you sat down."

Wei Changle's eyes widened.

The price of 10 wen wasn't for a bowl—it was for a single strand of noodle.

"How interesting, how very interesting!" Wei Changle said, his anger giving way to laughter. He asked, "And what kind of tea could possibly cost five taels of silver per pot?"

"Young master, aren't you from Taiyuan?" the shopkeeper replied with a grin. "Surely someone as worldly as you has seen it all. Taiyuan is full of wealthy officials and nobles who drink tea costing hundreds of taels per pot. Here in Shanyin, we're just a small town—not nearly as extravagant. Still, a pot of tea for five taels is reasonable, wouldn't you say?"

Wei Changle maintained his smile and asked, "So you're targeting us as outsiders and deliberately trying to fleece us?"

"Now that's uncalled for," the shopkeeper said, his expression darkening as he closed the account book. "This shop treats everyone fairly. There's no swindling here. Surely you're not planning to dine and dash, are you?" He shot a glance to his three workers as he spoke.

The three workers moved in unison, grabbing whatever was within reach. One picked up a kitchen knife, another a rolling pin, and the third a wooden stool. They edged closer menacingly.

Old Wei Gu remained seated, calmly holding onto his long wooden box, while Zhu Nu (the pig servant) sat unmoving as well, exuding a quiet confidence.

"Aren't you worried about ruining Shanyin's reputation with behavior like this?" Wei Changle said leisurely as he picked up the teapot and poured himself some tea. "A good reputation is hard to build, but doing something underhanded like this can ruin it in an instant. Who would dare come to your shop after that?"

The shopkeeper's eyes bulged with anger as he shouted, "Ruin what reputation? Stop wasting my time—pay up!"

Wei Changle chuckled, "I'll give you seven qian of silver. Not a wen more. Will you take it or not?"

"Take your grandmother's casket!" the shopkeeper roared, his previously friendly demeanor completely gone. He jabbed his finger at Wei Changle and cursed, "You little bastard, trying to eat for free in my shop? Fat grandpa here will—"

Before he could finish, a blood-curdling scream erupted from his throat.

Wei Changle didn't hesitate when the fat shopkeeper pointed at him. He reached out, grabbed the extended finger, and twisted it backward. A loud crack echoed as the shopkeeper's finger was snapped.

The shopkeeper let out a blood-curdling scream, only to be met with a swift kick from Wei Changle. The kick landed squarely on the shopkeeper's belly, forcing his rotund body to stumble backward. He crashed into the tables and chairs behind him, toppling them over with a loud clatter. The bowls and chopsticks that hadn't yet been cleared spilled all over him.

Wei Changle had held back with his kick, knowing full well the strength he could unleash. If he had gone all out, he might have killed the man then and there.

The three waiters froze for a moment but quickly snapped back to their senses. They were clearly seasoned thugs, and one of them, holding a stool, swung it down hard at Wei Changle's head from behind.

Hearing the rush of air behind him, Wei Changle tilted his head slightly and caught the stool coming down with his left arm. The sound of splintering wood followed as the stool shattered upon impact.

The second waiter, armed with a cleaver, charged forward like a wolf. Before Wei Changle could respond, Zhu Nu sprang into action. Moving like a nimble monkey, Zhu Nu darted forward and rammed his head into the cleaver-wielding waiter's stomach.

The man was caught off guard and sent flying backward, his cleaver clattering to the floor.

Wei Changle turned around just in time to see the waiter behind him, still clutching the broken pieces of the stool, staring in shock. With a smooth pivot on his left leg, Wei Changle spun and delivered a roundhouse kick to the man's face.

The burly waiter, despite his height and stocky build, was sent sprawling sideways by the kick. He crashed onto a nearby table, which tipped over, sending bowls and chopsticks scattering to the ground.

The third waiter, armed with a rolling pin, hesitated. Clearly, he had realized they had picked a fight with someone they couldn't handle. Without another thought, he turned and bolted for the door.

Meanwhile, Zhu Nu had already retrieved the cleaver dropped by the second waiter. With a clenched fist, he began pummeling the man's face relentlessly. Despite his young age, Zhu Nu's punches were anything but light. After a few blows, the man's face was a mess of blood, tears, and snot.

Throughout all of this, Wei Gu sat calmly in his seat, cradling his long wooden box with his eyes closed, as if meditating.

Wei Changle, on the other hand, had been simmering with frustration ever since entering the city and witnessing the hardships of the common folk. This little outburst served as a much-needed release for his pent-up anger, and he felt significantly better afterward.

As he walked forward, the fat shopkeeper lay on the ground groaning in pain. It wasn't until Wei Changle stepped on the man's protruding belly that the shopkeeper, tears streaming down his face, began pleading.

"Please... please stop hitting me. I don't want the money anymore... it was my mistake..."

Wei Changle sneered, "Overcharging customers is one thing, but I can't stand being pointed at." He continued coldly, "You're so skilled at fleecing people—how many have you scammed before?"

"No one, I swear! This... this was the first time..." the shopkeeper whimpered.

Before Wei Changle could respond, a commotion broke out outside the shop. Amid the noise, a loud voice shouted, "Where are they? Where are they? If I don't beat them to death today, I'm not surnamed Tu!"

The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder, and soon, a group of thugs wielding wooden clubs appeared at the entrance.

Leading them was the waiter who had fled earlier, still clutching the rolling pin. He pointed into the shop and said to a man beside him, "Ninth Master, they're inside. It's those three—they ate noodles without paying and started causing trouble."

Wei Changle glanced at the man referred to as Ninth Master, and a mocking smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

It was someone Wei Changle recognized: none other than Tu Ninth Master, the man who had earlier used flatbread to barter for a woman's services. To think he had already finished his "business" and returned so quickly.

"Making trouble on Five Immortals Society's turf? You must have a death wish," Tu Ninth Master snarled, raising a finger to point at Wei Changle. "Was it you, you little bastard, causing trouble here?"

Wei Changle shook his head with a sigh and muttered to himself, "I just said I hate being pointed at, and now here comes another fool who doesn't know his place." He chuckled darkly. "In front of me, no one gets to act this arrogant."

[--------------------------------------------]

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