Chapter Three: Fate's First Account

At dusk, Shen Yan stood alone on the roof. The ring heated in his palm, fractured into golden light, and left behind a plain silver band. Two settlement choices appeared on the watch. WEALTH: 400,000 YUAN. ABILITY: HEARING RUST, SEVEN YEARS. “One or the other?” he asked. The hand ticked once. He thought of the 270,000-yuan debt and his leaking room. Then he remembered the counterfeit bowl. Money could disappear. True sight could give him a place in the antique trade. He pressed HEARING RUST. Every piece of metal in the hotel began to whisper. Elevator cables groaned their age. Kitchen knives carried the rasp of sharpening stones. Silver forks remembered countless toasts. Rust, repair, and deception became textures he could understand.