Tòumíng shoved the azurite pebble so deep into his cargo pants pocket that it practically became part of the fabric. Then he shoved his hand in after it, wrapping his fingers around the compressed fortune, making absolutely sure it couldn't fall out or get pickpocketed or somehow vanish through some cosmic joke.
One and a half million yuan. In his pocket. Compressed into a marble-sized stone.
He needed to get away from floor three. Needed privacy. Needed to process what had just happened without the risk of other miners showing up and asking why he was standing there grinning like an idiot.
The cart took him down to floor five, the deeper, less-trafficked level that most miners avoided because the air was thinner, the heat more oppressive, and the structural stability questionable at best. Perfect for privacy.
He made his way through the familiar tunnels to the hollow cave he'd accidentally created weeks ago after removing that massive amethyst geode. The space was still there, untouched, the chamber carved into the rock where a geological formation used to be.
Tòumíng squatted in the corner, pulled out his phone, and opened the pirated streaming website he'd bookmarked. The one with the aggressive ads and constant redirects, but he'd be damned if he paid for entertainment when free options existed.
Episode 47 of Breaking Bad—"Live Free or Die"—loaded after three pop-up ads promising hot singles in his area and one particularly aggressive redirect trying to sell him cryptocurrency.
He closed them all and hit play.
The episode was amazing. Walter White's transformation continuing, the tension building, the cinematography perfect. Tòumíng was completely absorbed, watching the climax approach, the moment where everything would—
His phone rang.
The Breaking Bad video paused automatically, replaced by an incoming call screen.
Háo Héng.
"Fuck," Tòumíng muttered. He considered ignoring it, letting it go to voicemail, continuing his show in peace. But Háo was supposed to be his "retail gopher" now, and ignoring him might make the man think he'd lost his usefulness and could stop cooperating.
Tòumíng answered. "What?"
"M-Mr. Stone Crusher! Sir! I hope I'm not interrupting anything important!" Háo's voice was high-pitched, terrified, overly respectful in that way that made it clear he was still absolutely convinced Tòumíng was a dangerous gang member. "I have information I thought you might find valuable! Very valuable! Extremely valuable, actually!"
"Get to the point." Tòumíng tried to sound intimidating while squatting in a cave watching pirated TV shows on his phone. "I'm busy."
"Yes! Of course! Very busy, I'm sure! Important business! So, there's an event tonight—a private mining auction gala. It starts at 10 PM. Very exclusive, invitation-only, attended by low-tier mining CEOs, mineral collectors, gemstone dealers, that sort of crowd. People looking to expand their operations or acquire rare specimens."
Tòumíng's interest perked up immediately. An auction. With minerals. And gemstones. And most importantly—
"They have those games," Háo continued nervously, "where attendees can purchase sealed containers of raw stone. Some contain geodes, some contain valuable mineral deposits, some are just worthless rock. It's a gambling element to the evening. Very popular with the collectors."
Holy shit.
A room full of sealed rocks that might contain gems, and Tòumíng had Ore Sense that could see exactly which ones were valuable before buying them. This wasn't gambling, this was printing money.
"That's..." Tòumíng tried to keep the excitement out of his voice. "That could be useful. For business purposes."
"Exactly! I thought you might be interested! I can arrange an invitation if you'd like! I know the organizers, I can get you in, no questions asked! You could attend as my... associate. My business partner. Whatever story works best!"
"Send me the address," Tòumíng said, his mind already racing with possibilities. "And the invitation details. Everything I need to know."
"Yes! Absolutely! Right away! I'll text you all the information immediately! The dress code is business formal, just so you're aware—=, suits, ties, that sort of thing. Very professional atmosphere. And there's a minimum buy-in of fifty thousand yuan to participate in the stone auction, but I assume that's not a problem for someone of your... resources."
Fifty thousand yuan. A week ago that would have been an impossible amount. Now, with the azurite pebble in his pocket worth over one and a half million, it was pocket change.
"Not a problem," Tòumíng confirmed.
"Wonderful! I'll send everything right now! Is there anything else you need? Any other services I can provide? I'm completely at your disposal, Mr. Stone Crusher, sir!"
"Just the address. That's all."
"Of course! Sending it now! Thank you for not killing me! I mean—thank you for your continued business! I look forward to serving you!"
Tòumíng hung up before Háo could embarrass himself further.
A text arrived thirty seconds later with an address in the financial district, dress code details, and a digital invitation code that would get him past security.
Mining Auction Gala. 10 PM. Business formal. Fifty thousand yuan minimum buy-in.
And Tòumíng would be there with glowing blue eyes that could see through solid rock to identify which "mystery boxes" actually contained fortunes.
This was going to be incredible.
He tried to return to Breaking Bad, but the excitement made concentration impossible. His leg bounced with nervous energy. His mind spun with possibilities—how much could he win? How many valuable stones could he identify and purchase before people got suspicious? What kind of gems would be available?
He checked the time. 3:47 PM. Still hours until the event. He had about two hours left on his shift, but staying down here watching pirated TV shows didn't feel productive anymore.
Tòumíng stood up, pocketed his phone, and made his way back to the cart. Time to clock out early.
The ascent to the surface took several minutes, the cart grinding upward through the levels. When he emerged back into the office area, he headed straight for the time clock to punch out.
"Leaving early?"
Tòumíng turned to find Zhāng Wěi standing there, looking tired from his earlier argument with Xiǎo Huángdì. The old man's expression wasn't angry though—just curious.
"Finished my section," Tòumíng lied smoothly. "Quota met. Thought I'd head out."
Zhāng Wěi nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. He pulled out a small envelope from his pocket—the daily cash payment for shift work. "Here. Your wages for today. Good work as always."
Tòumíng took the envelope, felt the weight of bills inside. Maybe three hundred yuan for a partial shift. Nothing compared to the compressed fortune in his other pocket, but he made a show of looking grateful anyway.
"Thanks, boss."
"You're a good worker, Tòumíng. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Zhāng Wěi clapped him on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Tomorrow."
Tòumíng headed to the small changing building where miners stored their personal clothes and cleaned up after shifts. He stripped out of the dust-covered work gear, changed back into his black baggy t-shirt and regular pants, transferred the azurite pebble carefully from pocket to pocket.
Then he stepped outside into the late afternoon sun, officially ending his shift, his mind already focused on the evening ahead.
A mining auction. Mystery boxes full of potentially valuable stones. And supernatural vision that made the whole thing a guaranteed jackpot.
Tonight was going to change everything.
Again.