Seeing the item being offered, Wang Zhuo could only offer a wry smile and politely decline.

Old Mian didn't mind, chuckling as he retracted his hand. He first placed the small, green-wrapped package on the table, tidied up the rest of his box of things, and only then picked up the small green package, slowly bringing it to his mouth and chewing loudly.

Wang Zhuo and Qi Fei watched him chew the wrapping with strangely solemn expressions. Crunch, crunch. After masticating it, Old Mian grinned, revealing a crimson mouth and tongue that instantly stunned the two men to their cores.

Indeed, this was the Burmese man's favorite indulgence, something they couldn't go a day without: betel nut.

In relatively closed nations, peculiar customs often arise, and Myanmar is no exception. The streets are filled with men wearing skirts, and women with dark skin who paint their faces stark white. Furthermore, only women in this country smoke or use opium; men stick to something even more stimulating than opium: chewing betel nut.

The prevalence? Extremely high. Wang Zhuo had already witnessed it in Ruili. The Burmese businessmen operating in Ruili were utterly dependent on it.

The first time he saw a small stall filled with bottles and jars in Ruili, Wang Zhuo stared with curiosity for a long time until Qi Fei explained that it was a betel nut stall catering specifically to Burmese clientele.

The way Burmese people consume betel nut is vastly different from Taiwanese people—a difference of a hundred thousand miles. They use a special leaf, smear it with diluted slaked lime water, sprinkle on betel nut pieces, add some spices, wrap it into a small green package, and then chew.

A Burmese man chews about ten a day; this substance is more addictive than smoking. That day, Wang Zhuo had intended to buy a couple of packs to try, but Qi Fei resolutely pulled him away. He soon saw what a betel nut chewer looked like—the large gaps in their teeth, eroded by the lime, and the blood-red mouths after chewing immediately dashed any thought of trying it.

Chewing this Burmese betel nut for long periods turns the teeth a deep reddish-black color, and the gaps become wide enough to drive a train through. Wang Zhuo had just managed to craft a somewhat presentable image for himself; he certainly didn't dare touch such a thing.

After waiting a while, the dishes began to arrive. Old Mian had nearly finished his betel nut chew and spat it out with a thud, leaving a pool of blood-like saliva on the ground.

Wang Zhuo had incidentally seen this kind of saliva in Ruili, so this time he didn't make a fuss.

Must one say, the specialty dishes of Myanmar were delicious. Wang Zhuo had eaten curry rice in his university cafeteria, and the standard there was far below that of this restaurant. Firewood-roasted meat, sprinkled with seasoning and served in slices, emitted a rich aroma. Mango slices mixed with soybean powder were very unique. A foot-long lobster was served, greatly intriguing Wang Zhuo; he learned upon asking that Myanmar also produces abundant seafood.

When the large platter of crispy chicken, stuffed shrimp, and fish sticks arrived, the meal was complete. Wang Zhuo tasted everything one by one, and indeed, as Qi Fei had said, the flavors leaned slightly towards sweet, sour, and spicy, with just a little less salt—still extremely palatable.

The meal was very satisfying. Old Mian was genuinely generous in picking up the bill; it seemed he belonged to the propertied class and wasn't short of money.

After dinner, Old Mian cordially invited Wang Zhuo and Qi Fei to his brother-in-law's shop, saying his brother-in-law had just received a truckload of rough stones and hadn't entertained many clients yet. If they were lucky, they might gamble on a good piece.

Since it was still early and Old Mian's brother-in-law's shop was near the border crossing, safety wasn't a major concern. Wang Zhuo and Qi Fei conferred and agreed to go with Old Mian to his brother-in-law's establishment.

This shop was doing quite a large business. The yard contained stones divided into three sections. The largest section was for bulk sales: several rough stones piled into small stacks. If you liked one, you negotiated the price with the boss, and upon agreement, you took the entire stack; no retail sales.

Wang Zhuo and Qi Fei promptly bypassed this area. Perhaps when their business grew larger they might gamble on stones this way, but currently, with only one shop front and a small factory of fewer than thirty employees, they lacked the capital for such gambles.

The other two areas held old stock—rough stones that had remained unsold for years, mostly full-gambling pieces, along with some scrap material so utterly ruined it looked like a pile of rubble. The last area held the newly arrived roughs, all uniformly covered in yellow sandy skin, clearly transported from a single mine face.

Qi Fei was immediately drawn to the large expanse of new material spread out on the ground. These stones looked like they had only changed hands a few times and appeared very fresh, stirring a desire to investigate further.

Wang Zhuo's gaze, however, was captured by another rough stone for one simple reason: this piece was exceptionally large.

It was a massive rough stone, about as tall as Wang Zhuo's thigh, resting against a low wall. Visually estimating, it was over two cubic meters, translating to perhaps five tons or even heavier. Its surface was a pitch-black sand skin, laced with several deep fissures.

From a distance, its appearance resembled a large potato. In terms of sheer size, it could be called a "Crouching Ox Stone."

Wang Zhuo had only seen stones this enormous at tourist attractions, never one placed in the yard of a city shop before.

Seeing Wang Zhuo notice the stone, the Old Mian who brought them flashed his toothless, bloody smile: "Five and a half tons."

Wang Zhuo smiled and nodded, walking quickly toward it.

Seeing him move, Qi Fei hurried to follow. To be honest, having been in the jade industry for several years, she had rarely seen a rough stone this large; she could count the number on one hand.

"Sister, take a picture for me first."

Wang Zhuo placed one foot on the rough, bent his arm, lowered his head, assuming the posture of a thinker.

After the picture was taken, Qi Fei also got playful, striking a pose for Wang Zhuo to photograph her twice. Old Mian joined the fun, snapping a few pictures of the pair and their rickety little trailer in front of the giant rough.

Wang Zhuo then took Old Mian’s phone and had him take a photo with Qi Fei as well. The three of them were having such a lively time they nearly treated the place like a park.

After playing enough, Qi Fei took out a high-intensity flashlight and began examining the rough. In her mind, she felt neither she nor Wang Zhuo could possibly buy something this massive; it was purely for appreciation and study.

Wang Zhuo, however, sat down heavily on the small trailer, took a swig of bottled water, and activated his X-ray vision to look into the rough.

The moment his sight penetrated the stone, it was hard to pull away. The interior of this behemoth could truly be described as disastrous. Cracks, rock, brick material—one layer after another. Any occasional bit of jade seen was blue-water jade mixed with large patches of sesame black inclusions. The rough was oblong; Wang Zhuo looked from one end to the middle and still hadn't spotted a single valuable piece of jade.

Withdrawing his gaze, he stood up, unable to stifle a bitter laugh. He walked to the other side of the rough, closed his eyes to rest for a few seconds, and then reopened them to look at the large stone again.

The instant his sight pierced through the rough, his body jolted, because what met his eyes was a field of green interspersed with evenly distributed black bands—a green so deep it seemed unmixable.

Ice-grade, full-green jadeite with high chroma!

Wang Zhuo quickly steadied himself and continued looking deeper. He saw this patch of green gradually expanding inward, the color remaining intensely green. Only after penetrating half a meter did it abruptly turn into a stretch of milky white brick material.

Wang Zhuo rapidly surveyed the rest of the stone; there wasn't another patch of valuable material. The entire huge rough contained only this single large piece of jadeite, measuring fifty centimeters thick, about seventy centimeters high, and sixty centimeters wide. It was streaked with dark green black bands, and running through the middle was a large crack splitting it in two.

Retracting his gaze, Wang Zhuo felt somewhat uncertain. Even so, wouldn't this still be a profitable result? Even if they cut out bangle-quality full-green material, they could yield several hundred pieces, each worth two to three hundred thousand, totaling tens of millions!

Moreover, the value of jadeite isn't calculated that way. If a piece is large enough, it cannot be made into bangles; it can be fashioned into items with much greater appreciation potential. Given the size of this jadeite piece, it could easily multiply the value several times beyond ten million.

The problem was: would they even sell this giant? And if they did, ten million might not be enough to secure it, and their combined cash only amounted to a little over two million.

It seemed fate had decreed he and this behemoth were not meant to be. Wang Zhuo shook his head regretfully. Rather than struggling to buy this giant, it was better to acquire more small, exquisite pieces—making a million from tens of thousands was the path better suited for him.

"What a shame," Qi Fei finally finished admiring the rough and walked over. "They've cut seven viewing windows, and it's failed seven times. This behemoth is completely hopeless."

"Seven viewing windows?" Wang Zhuo asked. "You counted?"

"Yes," Qi Fei spread her hands. "Three showed rock, two showed brick material, and the two times they scraped revealed a very poor quality dark green, not even dark jade."

Old Mian also babbled something in the background, the gist being that this piece was being sold on consignment. Initially, many clients brought high bids to gamble, but after it failed, it was returned to the owner at a reduced price. After four failures, no one played it anymore. The owner then had a friend scrape three windows in two separate sessions. Finally, seeing there was no hope, they just left it there.

"Putting on a show, keeping it as a souvenir?" Wang Zhuo, having grasped Old Mian's meaning, was speechless.

Qi Fei asked, "Why don't they cut it open to see?"

"He said sooner or later someone will buy it. If not, they'll just keep it until the jade mines in Myanmar are completely depleted."

Qi Fei and Wang Zhuo exchanged glances upon hearing this. So the owner was holding out that long?

This meant the price for this large rough would certainly be very low, but Wang Zhuo still wasn't tempted. He had just realized another problem: transporting such a massive object back to the country would be a huge headache.

"Let's go light an incense stick for the Buddha first," Qi Fei pointed to an altar placed facing north, backed by the south, inside the courtyard. Many stone gamblers were superstitious, burning incense, praying, bathing, and washing their hands before cutting. Burmese people were especially devout Buddhists; every shop had such an altar for the owner and guests to worship.

Wang Zhuo hummed in agreement. As he looked toward the altar, a sudden, lightning-like flash illuminated his mind.

Because the offering table in front of the altar held various fruits—besides bananas, apples, and large pears—there was also a small, landmine-shaped watermelon...

The image within the large rough stone suddenly overlapped with the small watermelon. The green skin, the black stripes—couldn't that perfectly describe a Jade Watermelon?