In terms of transparency, the texture of jadeite is categorized from highest to lowest as glass variety, ice variety, glutinous variety, and bean variety. If categorized by color, transparent and black jadeite have only recently become popular in the last few years; traditionally, jadeite was exclusively green.

The rough stone Wang Zhuo was examining with his X-ray vision belonged to the completely transparent and colorless type. Fueled by intense speculation in recent years, transparent jadeite has skyrocketed from being virtually worthless to achieving astronomical prices; securing even one high-quality, icy-transparent piece could lead to instant wealth.

Yet, how easily can one unearth top-tier jadeite? This rough stone before him appeared flawless externally, but looking inside revealed an entirely different scene: patches of unsightly white cotton-like inclusions and a dense network of spiderweb-like fissures.

It was remarkable that these cracks did not manifest on the exterior—a classic case of looking like gold and jade on the outside, but being rotten straw within. Wang Zhuo calmly withdrew his gaze.

This was a disastrously bad stone; whoever bought it would lose money, wiping out their entire investment. “What do you think?” Guan Yingying asked eagerly.

Wang Zhuo kept a straight face and shook his head. “It’s a bust.

I advise you not to gamble on it.” Guan Yingying made a soft sound of disappointment, though a hint of reluctance still lingered in her expression. At that moment, the young married woman inspecting stones looked up, paused briefly upon seeing Wang Zhuo and Guan Yingying, nodded in greeting, and said, “Are you two looking at this rough stone too?” Guan Yingying replied, “Yes, but I think it will yield well, and he thinks it’s a loss.

We’re undecided.” “Heh, I’m not optimistic about this piece either,” the young woman said with a smile. “Look at the characters on this stone; they read ‘Mosa,’ which is a jadeite mining area in Myanmar.

The material from this pit is characterized by extremely high hardness, comparable to Pangkan material. When tapped, the residual sound rings longer and at a higher frequency than other stones.” This was encountering an expert.

Wang Zhuo and Guan Yingying listened intently. Guan Yingying asked, “I read about Mosa in a book.

I heard their rough stones often yield glassy bases, but they tend to have plenty of cloudiness and rarely produce high-quality green?” The young woman nodded. “That’s right.

Mosa material has pale coloring, mostly colorless, or if there is color, it’s small, scattered flower patterns. The skin of this stone is also wrong; Mosa skins are usually grayish-white or pale yellow.

Even if they have black skin, it never gets this dark.” “Could it be Qishifang passing off inferior goods as superior?” Wang Zhuo had already mentally categorized Cai Yuantu as a shrewd merchant. “That’s unlikely,” the young woman chuckled softly.

“Even if they were faking it, they wouldn’t make the deception this obvious. I suspect they just mixed up the labels.” Wang Zhuo nodded repeatedly, recalling Cai Yuantu’s superficial knowledge.

“If you’re interested in transparent material, there are a few decent pieces over there,” the young woman pointed toward a row of stone tables ahead. “Those rough stones came from a place called Glass Hill, just a few kilometers from the Mosa pit.

That area specializes in very clear, glassy material.” “I’m going to the restroom,” Wang Zhuo announced frankly, using the restroom break as an excuse. He had no time to waste; the priority was using his X-ray vision to find a piece that would yield massive profit.

When he returned from the restroom, Guan Yingying and the young woman were already walking together, seriously examining a rough stone. This suited Wang Zhuo perfectly.

He moved to a less crowded spot and began scrutinizing the rough stones one by one with his X-ray vision. Time flew by, and by noon, the sun was blazing fiercely.

Despite the shade provided by the large parasols, the nearly thirty-degree Celsius temperature was almost unbearable. Wang Zhuo had already examined over two hundred pieces, and so far, nothing satisfactory had appeared.

He needed to find one massive jackpot stone in a single stroke. If he cut many small, profitable stones, people might credit it to luck, but cutting one huge success would make it seem like pure chance, drawing unwanted attention and unnecessary trouble.

“Wang Zhuo, come have some sour plum soup!” Guan Yingying’s call drifted from a distant pavilion. Wang Zhuo was feeling slightly hazy, likely from overusing his X-ray vision, so he agreed and headed toward the pavilion.

Upon entering, the intense heat immediately lessened by a third. A tall young man wearing a Qishifang uniform opened the insulated urn set on the central table, poured a bowl of steaming, cool sour plum soup, and presented it to Wang Zhuo with both hands.

Wang Zhuo nodded his thanks and smiled at Guan Yingying and the young woman. “Qishifang’s hospitality is truly impeccable.” The pavilion was large; even with more than twenty stone buyers inside, it didn't feel crowded.

After Wang Zhuo sat down next to Guan Yingying and the beautiful young woman, he noticed an unusual number of gazes directed toward him. Since gaining the ability of X-ray vision, Wang Zhuo found his general eyesight had improved significantly; he could even perceive objects clearly in his peripheral vision, something ordinary people couldn't manage.

After just two sips of soup, he noticed at least five or six men periodically glancing covertly at the two women beside him. Wang Zhuo’s attention was subtly drawn, and he discreetly took a moment to observe the pair.

There’s the saying that everyone appreciates beauty, and another that a virtuous lady attracts a worthy gentleman, plus the notion that one plus one is far greater than two. Wang Zhuo now grasped the deeper meaning behind these maxims.

Guan Yingying was twenty-two, standing just over 1.7 meters tall, exuding the freshness of a spring breeze. Her long legs were perfectly curved and shapely, her small waist could be grasped in one hand, and the gentle sway of her pert backside beneath her dress as she walked possessed incredible allure for middle-aged men.

He didn't yet know the young woman’s name, but for men, this type of mature beauty held more attraction than Guan Yingying’s just-ripened fruit. Because of the heat, she wore a low-cut white chiffon blouse, revealing three inches of cleavage at eye level, hinting at magnificent curves.

Her blue-black pencil skirt perfectly hugged her ample hips—voluptuous but not bulky—an entirely different, yet equally proud, figure, sensual to the bone. Yet, the woman herself maintained a placid expression and composed demeanor, radiating elegant poise.

This combination of temperament and physique was an irresistible weapon against any man, from eight to eighty. Wang Zhuo admired the pair with appreciative eyes, but when he saw the young woman gently sip her sour plum soup, tracing her full lips with her tongue, he involuntarily felt a flush of heat.

Wang Zhuo hurriedly raised his bowl and took a large gulp of the soup,