The Prefect enjoyed a bear's paw, and people said, "The Prefect certainly knows how to live." A hunter ate a bear's paw, and people said, "That hunter is such a spendthrift."

A billionaire boss plays an online game using a Dragon Slaying Saber worth two hundred thousand; people say, "This boss understands leisure." But if a poor student, deeply in debt, used that same saber, his classmates would surely say, "Are you an idiot? Sell it immediately."

Human perception is built upon a foundation of multilayered information. Thus, the moment Wang Zhuo appeared, these people pegged him as a commoner undeserving of even touching this soft-shelled turtle. They immediately felt that justice for this creature demanded this youngster not be allowed to eat it.

It was not entirely their fault for misjudging him. There are no Wang Zhuos among the sons of officials or the sons of the wealthy. If Wang Zhuo’s hands showed any calluses, they would have taken him for a car mechanic. If Wang Zhuo wore leather shoes, he would at best be considered a chauffeur...

"Friend," a short young man of about thirty years old spoke up, "Did you catch this round turtle?"

Wang Zhuo swept his gaze over them and casually grunted in affirmation.

This young man who spoke was named Xu Zhipeng; his actual position was the driver for the leader beside him. The man next to him, also around thirty, of medium build with a pale face and glasses, was his superior: Shen Feng, Party Secretary of the Economic Development Zone in Baojiang District, Jiangzhou City.

Baojiang District was originally a remote county under Jiangzhou City's jurisdiction. It later changed from a county to a district, officially integrating into Jiangzhou City's administrative management. This district, much like Miyun, Huairou, or Daxing in Beijing, was historically undeveloped but rapidly grew later by capitalizing on geographical advantages and policy support.

Precisely because it was a newcomer, economic development was the district's utmost priority. That Shen Feng could attain the powerful position of Party Secretary of the Economic Development Zone at the age of thirty-two was truly a meteoric rise, a moment of supreme triumph.

Although his post was officially a Section Chief level position (), his benefits were equivalent to a Deputy Department Head level (). Furthermore, in terms of real authority, many leaders at the full Department Head level () could only look on in envy.

Shen Feng stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and behind him, a young man of about thirty-seven or thirty-eight held a parasol over him. This bearing immediately gave Wang Zhuo a poor first impression of the group.

"Quite lucky, aren't you?" Xu Zhipeng smiled pleasantly. "I heard this round turtle weighed nearly sixteen pounds. Is that true?"

This was a conversational tactic. He already mentioned the turtle’s weight, yet he asked Wang Zhuo if it was true. It sounded redundant, but it allowed him to gauge Wang Zhuo’s attitude from the reply before deciding what to say next.

"Little Xu, you two chat slowly; we'll head back first," Shen Feng said.

Xu Zhipeng nodded in agreement. Shen Feng walked ahead with steady, composed steps. A middle-aged man followed closely behind him, his face plastered with ingratiating smiles, posture extremely low. The man holding the umbrella trailed behind them. The three exited the small courtyard behind the kitchen like that.

This scene reminded Wang Zhuo of the story of the wolf and the Bei working in cahoots—the wolf long in the forelegs and short in the hind, the Bei short in the forelegs and long in the hind, thus partnering up to do evil.

As a child, Wang Zhuo had imagined that the wolf and the Bei partnered in the posture of a male and female dog mating. He only realized upon growing up that it was merely a metaphor, something that didn't happen in reality. But now, seeing their conduct, he suddenly recalled the idiom.

With a half-smile, Wang Zhuo drew his gaze away from Shen Feng and turned back to appraise Xu Zhipeng and the other person. He laughed, "The turtle is fifteen pounds and eight ounces. I checked; it’s a male."

The young man next to Xu Zhipeng, close to Wang Zhuo's age, seeing Wang Zhuo was amicable, asked directly, "So, do you plan to eat it yourself, or sell it?"

"Eat it myself, of course," Wang Zhuo laughed heartily. "Selling it only gets you a bit of money. This is wild stock; it's much more nourishing than farmed ones."

Isn't this like a cow chewing peonies, wasting something precious? The young man chuckled with a hint of derision. "Then why not just sell it to us? We'll pay extra—guaranteed to satisfy you."

"Guaranteed to satisfy me?" Wang Zhuo was instantly amused. He took another look at the young man and asked, "Then name a price so I can hear it?"

Wang Zhuo’s earlier statement about getting "only a bit of money" from selling it was heartfelt. A wild soft-shelled turtle this large was impossible to find even with a lantern, let alone one he caught himself, which added another layer of significance. His current hourly income hovered around one hundred thousand; sums of a few tens or a hundred thousand meant nothing to him. Therefore, the value of this turtle, in his eyes, truly was just "a bit of money"—not an exaggeration in the slightest.

His scrutiny made the atmosphere instantly peculiar. The young man viewed him as poor and cheap, offering words like "guaranteed to satisfy," while Wang Zhuo’s re-appraisal clearly conveyed: Do you even have that kind of capacity?

Provoked by his manner and words, the young man became slightly annoyed. He was about to speak when Xu Zhipeng stopped him with a look.

That single glance instantly extinguished his fire. This young man was the nephew of the middle-aged man, Manager Jia, who had left earlier. Today's focus was Secretary Shen Feng. Xu Zhipeng was Secretary Shen’s driver; naturally, this young man had to follow Xu Zhipeng's lead. Secretary Shen wanted this turtle; that was the ultimate priority. He and Xu Zhipeng stayed behind precisely to resolve this matter. The leader wouldn't care about the intermediate process; he only cared about the final result: Get the turtle to me on a plate.

Glancing at Jia Yuliang, Xu Zhipeng felt discontent, thinking, This kid really is all talk and no action. This Wang Zhuo was likely someone who responded to softness but bristled at hardness. If they argued, the leader wouldn't get the turtle.

"Heh heh," he smiled at Wang Zhuo and said, "What kind of logic is it to ask the buyer to name the price first? Wouldn't you agree, friend?"

"You all initiated the desire to buy. I'm not hawking goods at a stall," Wang Zhuo replied with a faint smile. He had already spotted the car keys in the young man’s pocket—an Audi A6. This must be the driver for that leader who liked walking with his hands behind his back. As for the dumbfounded kid beside him, he bore a four-tenths resemblance to the one flattering the leader—nephew or son, no need to ask; this one was clearly staying behind to foot the bill for the turtle money.

To prevent Manager Jia from uttering any more offensive remarks, Xu Zhipeng preemptively spoke up. "How about this: the master chef at the resort gave an estimate just now, saying your round turtle is worth twenty thousand yuan. What do you think of that price?"

Twenty thousand? Manager Jia instantly felt a surge of indignation. We should have offered ten thousand and negotiated slowly! This Xu character just threw out twenty thousand—he really treats other people's money like nothing!

Unexpectedly, Wang Zhuo let out a cold chuckle and waved his hand dismissively. "A turtle this size? Never mind twenty thousand—if you had forty thousand, I'd buy as many as you could bring me!"

Xu Zhipeng was nearly blown away by anger. He thought, As many as I could bring? Look at your attire, which wouldn't cost a hundred yuan to put together from a street stall; can you even afford the fingernail of one turtle? Annoyed, he stopped talking, figuring this negotiation was doomed. He would report this young man's attitude to the leader later, and the leader probably wouldn't blame him; if the fellow was determined not to sell, they couldn't just seize it.

Jia Yuliang was even more filled with anger by Wang Zhuo’s statement. Seeing Xu Zhipeng fall silent, his spoiled temper flared. He sneered at Wang Zhuo, "Are you so poor you've never seen money? It's just a soft-shelled turtle, and you want to sell it for eighty or ninety thousand to get rich?"

The soft-shelled turtle, Pelodiscus sinensis, has countless names: tuányú, yuányú, jiǎoyú, shuǐyú. Xu Zhipeng called it yuányú, and Jia Yuliang called it tuányú. If put together, they oddly form tuányuányú (reunion turtle).

"You can’t even afford eighty or ninety thousand, yet you want to eat a soft-shelled turtle?" Wang Zhuo roared with laughter as if he’d heard something utterly ridiculous. "I thought you guys could offer a million or two, making me consider it. Turns out you're just provincials who think eighty or ninety thousand is a sky-high price!"

Wang Zhuo’s verbal sparring skills could easily take on a crowd. It was comparable to Zhuge Liang debating the scholars of the Three Kingdoms period.

"Damn it!" Jia Yuliang couldn't help but blurt out an obscenity. He pulled his car keys from his pocket and flashed them at Wang Zhuo. "Look closely, you wearing sandals! I drive a BMW!"

Slap! A loud slap echoed, hitting him squarely on the face, staggering him so much he fell onto his rear end on the ground.

"Who are you calling 'Laozi' [an arrogant term for 'I']?" Wang Zhuo scoffed coldly. He then pulled a key from the pocket of his cargo shorts and flashed it at Jia Yuliang. "Recognize this clearly! Ye drives a Mercedes-Benz! There's only one at the entrance of the resort; use your eyes and look!"

A Mercedes-Benz and a BMW aren't about the same weight class? That was Xu Zhipeng’s initial thought. Then, he suddenly recalled the behemoth parked in the resort's lot and was rendered speechless.

"Can't even afford a damn turtle, and yet he puts on such airs," Wang Zhuo strode past Jia Yuliang, spat disdainfully, and grunted, "If you can't afford to play, scram quickly. Don't block my view."

Jia Yuliang had never suffered such humiliation. He stood up, ready to rush forward and fight Wang Zhuo, but Xu Zhipeng quickly pulled him aside to talk.

"He must be referring to that Mercedes RV. Let's find someone to inquire about it first," Xu Zhipeng advised.

At Xu Zhipeng's reminder, Jia Yuliang hesitated. The Mercedes RV, just from its exterior, was easily worth over ten million. The BMW he drove, parked next to it, looked laughably small. According to the staff assigned to guard that vehicle, the RV even had a small garage inside that housed a fiery red luxury sports coupe, a brand he had never even seen before.

Jia Yuliang usually considered himself quite capable, but one look from Xu Zhipeng was enough to make him shut up obediently. Now, even Xu Zhipeng had to quietly investigate the origin of that car. This made Jia Yuliang suddenly feel like a frog at the bottom of a well.

One, the personal driver for a rising star in politics; the other, the future heir of a billionaire. Both were stunned into silence by a mere car key weighing less than a hundred grams, not daring to utter a single perfunctory remark, and instead slunk out of the courtyard to quietly gather intelligence.

After leaving the small courtyard, Jia Yuliang looked back with complicated emotions at Wang Zhuo, who was currently using a chopstick to prod the large turtle. He held onto a sliver of hope: When I find out you're a fraud, I'll come back to deal with you.