62. Old Master Qian

“Why not give it a try? With the example of the elder sister before us, even if it’s useless, what’s the harm?” Granny Zhang nodded, bought a small slice of watermelon, and ate it right there in front of everyone.

They watched as she ate faster and faster, finally gnawing every last bit of red from the rind, as if she wished she could eat the rind itself.

“Fourth Sister Zhang, slow down, don’t choke yourself,” someone advised.

“This watermelon is delicious. Even if it doesn’t cure my migraines, the fifty yuan was well spent,” Granny Zhang said, wiping her mouth, still savoring the taste.

“How do you feel? Is your head still hurting?” another granny asked.

“Hey, it doesn’t seem as painful now,” Granny Zhang shook her head, a hint of surprise in her voice.

“Husband, buy a few more slices. Your rheumatism is pretty serious. Maybe eating a few more will cure you entirely.” Another granny pulled at her husband.

“Alright, let’s buy four more pieces,” the old man, now a complete believer, immediately purchased four more slices.

“I’ll take four more as well,” Granny Zhang, without hesitation, handed over more money.

“I want to try two pieces.”

“Young man, cut a few more, I’ll buy two as well.”

Soon, other grannies started pulling out their money; the young man swiftly collected payments, sliced the watermelon, and handed pieces to the elders, who began eating right there.

“My goodness, are there really so many people buying his watermelon?”

“It doesn’t make sense, how can people fight over such expensive watermelon?”

“Please, seniors, don’t let yourselves be deceived.”

“That’s right, this is practically a sky-high price for watermelon.”

Seeing the young man quickly sell more than half the watermelon and rake in over a thousand yuan, bystanders began voicing their concerns, most urging the elders to reconsider.

“What do you know? The young man’s watermelon can cure illnesses.”

“That’s right. If you’re stingy, that’s your loss—didn’t you see my husband’s eyes were cured?”

“If you have headaches or fevers, buy a couple of slices and try them. Tasty and healing—this watermelon is practically an elixir,” Granny Zhang and the others chimed in, praising the young man.

“Maybe I’ll try it too.” Some nearby elders, moved by their words, bought a slice to test.

After eating, several grannies found their discomforts and minor ailments slowly fading or even vanishing, prompting them to buy more slices.

Soon, the watermelon was sold out. The young man pulled another large watermelon from his snakeskin sack, slicing it into small pieces and arranging them on the table.

With the elders spreading the word, everyone around knew this young man’s watermelon was special—not only delicious but also a quick remedy for ailments.

More and more people gathered. After trying a slice, they returned for more. In no time, the young man’s business was booming. In about an hour, he sold four watermelons, earning 6,400 yuan.

“Young man, do you have any more watermelon?”

“Yes, we’d like to buy more. Hurry back and fetch some.” Many newcomers wanted to buy after hearing the news.

“Sorry, everyone. Today, that was all I had. Once they’re gone, there’s no more. But there will be more tomorrow, so I’ll be back. If you want some, come tomorrow.” The young man shook his head, packed his table and short sword, and left.

But the craze for sky-high-priced watermelon was only beginning. Someone had filmed a video and posted it to their social circle; it quickly circulated to countless WeChat users, leaving viewers skeptical.

“Wait, isn’t this year’s top scorer in the provincial liberal arts college entrance exam? Why is he selling watermelon—and at such a price? Isn’t this a scam?” Someone recognized the young man in the video as Chen Fengyun, the provincial liberal arts champion, immediately attracting more attention.

“Perhaps I’m the first cultivator in history to sell watermelon, and to cut it with a flying sword. If other cultivators found out, would they beat me up?” Our protagonist, Chen Fengyun, mused as he headed home.

Yesterday, he’d had an epiphany from Wang Junguang’s words. He realized that the miniature cave world he possessed was bursting with watermelons and vegetables his family couldn’t possibly finish. Why not sell a little each day and earn some spending money for university?

Of course, he knew selling his watermelons and vegetables could cause a stir and bring trouble, but Chen Fengyun only planned to sell for a few days, clearing out the cave’s stock.

He had underestimated the effects of watermelons grown with spiritual energy and spring water. Not only did they cure minor ailments, even rare and stubborn illnesses responded to them.

Huanhuaxi Villa in Rong City was the most famous gathering place for the wealthy in the area. Rumor had it housing prices were nearing forty thousand yuan per square meter, rivaling luxury homes in Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou.

Past five in the afternoon, a middle-aged man hurried from his car, entered the villa community, and headed for a northern-facing three-story villa, joy written plainly across his face.

“Mr. Liu, what brings you here? The old master just got up, he’s in the backyard for some exercise, but the second master is home today.” The door was opened by a middle-aged woman, whose attire marked her as a housekeeper, though her words were tinged with caution.

“Thank you, Aunt Zhou. I’ve come with good news today—I guarantee neither the old master nor the second master will be upset,” Liu Jianhua said with satisfaction, raising the bag in his hand.

“A few slices of watermelon—do you really think the old master and second master would be interested? Or has Mr. Liu lost his mind?” Aunt Zhou didn’t say much more. After all, Liu Jianhua was the son-in-law; though neither the old master nor the second master liked him much, it wasn’t her place to intervene.

“Dad, you look well today. Second Brother, how come you’re home to keep Dad company? Let me help.” Liu Jianhua walked to the backyard, where a middle-aged man was assisting a white-haired elderly man during a slow walk. The elderly man’s movements were shaky, clearly struggling with mobility.

“Jianhua, you’re here. Have a seat,” the old master nodded.

“Liu Jianhua, Dad needs rest and quiet. If you have business, come back later. Don’t bother Dad all the time, understood?” the middle-aged man frowned.

“Second Brother, you’re the general manager of the Southwest branch of Imperial Luxury Group—always so busy. Let me handle looking after Dad. You know I have nothing to do lately; it’s only right I spend more time with him,” Liu Jianhua replied quickly with a smile.