Chapter 6

After half an hour of contemplation, the pressure of survival ultimately overcame his concerns, and Yang Feng decided to become a second-hand dealer in the Ming Dynasty. However, a new problem arose: what could he bring from the modern era to sell in the Ming Dynasty without drawing attention?

Salt, tea, alcohol, ironware, ...

One by one, items flashed through Yang Feng's mind, but he quickly dismissed them. It wasn't that these items weren't profitable; rather, Yang Feng knew that they were all regulated goods in any dynasty. Those who dared to deal in these items were either government or court officials, or merchants with deep backgrounds. If he, a nobody without even a travel permit, dared to touch these trades, his body would likely end up in some unknown forest within two days.

"Damn... With such a good opportunity right in front of me, I can't even figure out what to bring. This is really frustrating."

Yang Feng, agitated, raised his hand to slam it on the table, but as he lifted his palm, he realized that the table he had used for years had just been smashed to pieces and was now lying in the garbage pile downstairs.

Just then, Yang Feng finally confirmed that his strength had increased. To verify this, he secretly punched the railing in his neighborhood. The iron railing, which was half an inch thick, was dented by Yang Feng's punch, causing quite a commotion and even alerting the security guard, who scared Yang Feng back to his rental apartment.

This was just an unexpected interlude, but it also confirmed that his strength had significantly improved after his return. This was something no one would refuse. Moreover, Yang Feng noticed that his skin had become much whiter. The original Yang Feng, who had struggled in society for several years, had darker skin than the average person, but now it had become much lighter. He knew this was definitely related to his inexplicably increased strength.

Thinking about this, Yang Feng couldn't help but pick up a mirror from the windowsill to take a look.

"Hmm... Indeed, much whiter, with a trend toward becoming a pretty boy!" The person nodded somewhat narcissistically, but then his movement suddenly froze.

"Mirror... Mirror... Right, why didn't I think of it? It's the mirror."

Yang Feng suddenly slapped his palm, a mix of frustration and excitement, and hit his head. "I'm really stupid. How could I not think of mirrors? This thing is a rarity in the Ming Dynasty and a luxury item. If I can bring a batch of mirrors over, I should be able to make a lot of money."

Yang Feng's educational level was not high, but this did not mean his knowledge was narrow. Although he had not attended university, it wasn't because of poor grades but due to a family crisis that forced him to drop out early and work. On the contrary, Yang Feng's grades had always been among the top three in his class. His homeroom teacher once said that if not for the family crisis, Yang Feng would have been a promising candidate for Tsinghua or Peking University. After years of social experience, he was more adept in human relations and intellect than many college graduates, except for some specialized knowledge. He had been stuck at the bottom of society only because of the lack of a degree.

Thinking and acting were Yang Feng's principles. Once he figured this out, he took out his bank card and phone and immediately left.

The Chao Yang Market was the largest market near Yang Feng's neighborhood, with a wide variety of items. Almost any daily necessity could be found there, and the prices were cheaper than outside. Yang Feng often came here to buy things when he had nothing to do.

Yang Feng went straight to a shop in the northeast corner of the market and shouted at a man lying on a recliner, "Zhang Sicheng, the city management officers are here!"

"Ah... What? The city management officers are here!"

Interestingly, as soon as Yang Feng's words were spoken, the middle-aged man, who had been sleeping like a dead pig, jumped up as if electrocuted. Due to the force of his jump, his head hit the door frame, causing a dull thud and making him cry out in pain.

"Ha ha ha..."

When the man finally came to his senses, he saw Yang Feng laughing uncontrollably.

"You, Yang Feng, how dare you trick me like that! You have a bad conscience!" The middle-aged man, furious, punched Yang Feng, but he had some restraint and only grabbed his shoulder.

Yang Feng dodged, blocking with his left hand and laughing, "Alright, alright, it was just a joke. Who knew you'd be so sensitive? Can I be blamed for that?"

"Bullshit, if not you, who else? Me?"

Zhang Sicheng glared at him angrily and was about to sit back down, but Yang Feng stopped him.

"Old Zhang, don't be angry. I really have business to discuss with you."

"Discuss what? I know you, kid." Zhang Sicheng rolled his eyes. "What could you want? Just a few pots and pans. Take what you need and leave the money on the counter. I didn't sleep last night. Don't disturb me, or I'll really get mad!"

"Do you think I'm lying?"

Yang Feng didn't waste words and pulled out a stack of red bills, waving them in front of Zhang Sicheng. Zhang Sicheng, who knew the value, immediately saw that the folded bills in Yang Feng's hand were worth at least ten thousand yuan, and his eyes lit up.

"Wow, kid, where did you get all this money? You're actually coming to support my business today. What do you want? Are you getting married and buying renovation materials?"

"What?"

Yang Feng shook his head vigorously. "I just want to buy a batch of mirrors from you."

"You want to buy mirrors?"

Zhang Sicheng laughed, pointing at Yang Feng. "You little rascal, are you just here to tease me? How much can a mirror be worth? At most, a few hundred yuan. Did you bring all this money just to tease me?"

"Really not."

Yang Feng rubbed his nose sheepishly. "I really want to buy mirrors, and a lot of them. I think this money might not even be enough."

"Are you serious?"

Seeing that Yang Feng wasn't joking, Zhang Sicheng looked at him carefully and teased, "You've really changed. You've gotten whiter and handsomer, and you've even learned how to do business. But I have to warn you, mirrors are not easy to sell. Be careful you don't end up with a lot of unsold stock. Don't come crying to me if that happens."

As he spoke, Zhang Sicheng's tone became more serious.

Yang Feng looked at Zhang Sicheng. They were not related, but they had become good friends over the past two years. As a seller, Zhang Sicheng naturally wanted him to buy more, but he was genuinely concerned about Yang Feng's well-being.

Gratefully patting Zhang Sicheng's shoulder, Yang Feng smiled. "Don't worry. I've already found a buyer. I was just fired, so I need to find something to do."

"You were fired?" Zhang Sicheng frowned. "Alright, I know a few leaders at Dalitong. If you want to work there again, I can put in a good word for you."

"Thanks, Brother Zhang, but no need."

Since he had decided to become a second-hand dealer and get rich, Yang Feng didn't want to return to a 9-to-5 life. He smiled and changed the subject. "Brother Zhang, you know a lot of people. Can you get me a dog leg knife?"

Zhang Sicheng was taken aback. "A dog leg knife? What do you want that for? It's a controlled weapon."

"Controlled weapon?" Yang Feng scoffed. "These days, even kitchen knives require real-name registration. Are you going to stop selling kitchen knives too?"

"Hey... you little rascal..."

It was late at night, and the guests at Lai Fu Inn were already asleep. The night watchman, responsible for keeping watch, was dozing off on the large counter, drooling onto the table. Even the boss's big yellow dog was sleeping nearby, and the inn was completely quiet.

After a while, the big yellow dog's drooping ears suddenly perked up. He lifted his head and looked at the second floor of the inn, growling lowly. The night watchman, woken by the dog's warning, opened his eyes groggily and, seeing the dog, slapped its head irritably. "Shut up, or I'll starve you tomorrow."

"Whine..."

The dog whined and reluctantly lay back down, still looking at the nearby guest room as if something had suddenly appeared there.

Suddenly, a soft, pale blue light appeared in one of the second-floor guest rooms. The light grew brighter, and a few minutes later, when it disappeared, Yang Feng, holding a bronze mirror in one hand and a whetstone in the other, appeared in the room.

Dressed in modern clothes, Yang Feng shook his slightly dizzy head, looked around, and smiled with delight when he saw the large wooden box next to him.

"It seems I was right. Anything within the blue light's range is transported here. And I feel that the range of the blue light is significantly larger this time!"