MTL - He Became a Salted Fish After Inheriting Millions of Secret Arts-Chapter 7 trading house opens
Duan Feizhuo stared nervously at the door. How long has the secret trading house been closed? It must have been closed since Uncle Joseph fell ill. Customers must be anxiously waiting during this time, right?
So today...today...
What if a customer comes? How does he know how to do business! It was his first time visiting this place today! How is he going to explain it? "I'm sorry, dear ladies and gentlemen, I'm the new owner of the trading house, and I'm just here to visit and learn, so you're wasting your time."—Those guests are all magicians! Will they turn him into a groundhog for being too disappointed?
He wanted to turn the clock back to 12 o'clock and close the customer channel, but it was too late.
Directly opposite the rosewood counter, at the end of the hall of the trading house stood a silver door.
Faint human voices came from outside the closed door.
"Oh my god, so this is the secret trading house! If it doesn't open again, I'll think the boss ran away with the money!"
"He won't, my dear, he's an honest businessman. I remember when he opened for the last time, he said he was sick. He was probably treating his illness during this time."
"Can a great mystic like him get sick?"
"My dear, mystics are also mortals. It is in pursuit of immortality that we embark on this difficult road. Unless we truly understand this philosophy, we will be free from birth, old age, sickness and death."
What happens if the customer channel is closed now? Will those customers who have already come to the trading house be stuck here?
Duan Feizhu frantically checked the space under the counter, as if Joseph would hide there. But there was nothing under the counter except an iron box.
By the way, those arcane philosophy books!
Duan Feizhuo tried to open the leftmost drawer of the counter, only to see that it was full of large and small coins, 5 pounds and 2 pounds gold coins, new 1 shilling silver coins newly issued this year, 1 crown and half crown silver coins , mixed with a few old guineas. Tucked in a corner were bundles of ten-pound notes.
Normally, he would have admired it ecstatically for a while, but now he just wants to curse a useless thing!
He opened the middle drawer again, which contained a stack of papers, a bottle of ink and a pen.
Desperately, he opened the rightmost drawer. There were several thick leather-bound books in it, which looked like they were very old, and there were still a lot of labels stuck inside.
Duan Feizhuo took out the top one in ecstasy, and opened a page, only to see that it was filled with densely written words, and on the top it read
"Muscat hand-woven blanket, made of subspecies golden red-crested falcon feathers, one corner is missing, caused by improper use by the original owner; fire-resistant and high-temperature resistant; purchase price 65 pounds; transaction price 185 pounds. Common features Under the light conditions, it emits a light blue light, with a luminosity level of 2."
Duan Feizhuo looked back, and it turned out that this is an account book, which records all the products that his uncle has handled, and some of them are accompanied by photos. It is indeed very instructive for the owner of the trading house, but unfortunately it is of no value for the current emergency situation...
More conversations came from outside the door. It is conceivable that eager customers found that the teleportation circle was back in operation, and they rushed into the trading house impatiently, wanting to see what new goods the long-lost owner of the trading house brought.
"Joseph Chester, I have been tricked by you!"
Duan Feizhuo smashed his fist at the golden clock, then held his hand and screamed, the pain was so painful that he almost burst into tears.
He didn't want to get involved with the mystic at all!
"Let me continue to run the trading house?" He gritted his teeth, and then showed a vengeful smile, "Okay, I will show you how to run it! Since you taught me that honesty is the first, dear 'uncle', then I Just tell them I don't know anything about esoteric philosophy. You can't blame me if the trading house goes under because of mismanagement, can you?"
As long as the trading house goes bankrupt, he can confidently be a salted fish. You don't have to worry about how to run this place anymore, and you don't have to worry about what the night policeman will do if he finds out his identity. It's all done, once and for all!
He grabbed the golden mask on the counter and covered his face.
I don't know if it was his illusion, but this mask fits as if it was tailor-made.
Miss Madeleine Clearwater had been in London from Dublin for more than a month.
Ostensibly, she was visiting her godmother, Mrs Boyle. She was old enough to enter the world, so her parents sent her to London to ask Mrs. Boyle to guide her manners and act as her introducer. For a lady from a country gentry family, this arrangement is both traditional and appropriate.
But in fact, Mrs. Boyle was not Madeleine's godmother at all. The widowed old woman at 17 Connaught Garden Street was actually Madeleine's mentor. Madeleine studied mystical philosophy from her—some people call it magic, but modern people generally believe that it is an esoteric subject that explores the hidden laws of the world, just like physics and chemistry used to be called natural philosophy.
Mrs. Boyle is the best at spirits. Madeleine thought that after staying at 17 Connaught Garden Street, she would be able to learn to perform mysterious rituals, summon ghosts or demons, and talk to wisdom from other worlds. However, for a month, The instructor only asked her to do two kinds of homework over and over again—reading books and staring blankly at a piece of paper with a magic circle drawn on it.
Of course, this is no ordinary paper. This piece of paper is the "key" to the secret trading house. All kinds of rare treasures are sold there, and occultists from all over the world gather to discuss esoteric philosophies. As long as the magic circle is turned on, no matter where you are, you can easily and conveniently enter the trading bank.
Madeleine was originally unable to use the key. Mrs. Boyle said that each guest had a key, but could not lend it to others who did not have one, nor could it be revealed to others what the key was for, whether by speaking, writing, or gestures. Once this secret is revealed, they will die suddenly on the spot.
However, Mrs. Boyle knew that Madeleine would be her apprentice, so the last time she visited the trading house, she asked the owner of the trading house to draw a key for Madeleine. When the trading house opens next time, Madeleine can go to the trading house to open her eyes.
Madeleine had been looking forward to that day, but she waited and waited, but the magic circle did not change at all. Mrs. Boyle said that the trading house was supposed to be open at least once a week. She must have made a mistake, right?
She carries that key with her every day and checks it every hour. Finally, on April 15th, the magic circle on the paper changed color, from the original black to a dark blue with shimmering light, just like adding silver foil to the blue ink.
She happily took the paper to find Mrs. Boyle. The instructor immediately announced that it was time. Madeleine rushed into the bedroom and hurriedly changed into her best dress. When she returned to Mrs. Boyle's study, she found that the old woman had also put on a magnificent fur shawl she had never seen before, and a mask, as if she were going to a masquerade ball.
"Come on, dear, you can wear it too." The old woman handed her a mask covered with feathers. "Everyone who enters the trading house must hide their identities to prevent the night police from infiltrating."
Madeleine put on her mask and jumped into the circle. There was a whirlwind. When she regained her senses, she found herself standing on a landing, with a finely carved silver door standing in front of her, but it was tightly closed.
And on the wall behind them was a beautiful tapestry, with a complex magic circle woven on it, exactly the same as the magic circle on that piece of paper.
Some people had already arrived one step ahead of them, and they were all waiting outside the door.
Everyone wears a mask, and the two masked figures closest to Madeleine remind her of executioners. An unknown man or woman wears the ornate mask of the Venetian carnival. A group of brightly dressed Turks yelled in a foreign language and wore wooden masks. There is also an oriental woman, with her hair tied in a high bun and rich ornaments, she looks like an exotic princess. Her mask is pure black, with patterns painted on her forehead.
There was a humming and whispering all around, like moth wings beating against glass.
Mrs. Boyle was used to such scenes, and stood aside dignifiedly and quietly. Madeleine couldn't stay idle, she stretched her neck and looked around.
"Ma'am, why don't we go in?"
"It's impolite to break into someone's house when it's not open."
"Ma'am, what's downstairs?"
"You can go and see, dear." Mrs. Boyle said with a smile, "but come back quickly."
With the permission of his wife, Madeleine was as happy as a free bird, lifted her skirt and ran to the bottom of the stairs.
To her great shock, a large group of people gathered downstairs. They clustered together on the landing, huddled and whispering. And Mrs. Boyle was among them!
Madeleine glanced up and down—how could that be? She obviously went down one level, how could she return to the door of the trading house?
"It's a circular staircase," explained Mrs. Boyle.
"Amazing!"
Just when Madeleine was about to walk up this wonderful staircase again, the door of the trading house creaked open.
The customers who lingered outside the door for a long time cheered. Madeleine hurried to Mrs. Boyle, took her arm, and acted obediently.
The one who opened the door was a young man wearing a golden mask. He is slender and strong, standing in the center of the trading house with a master-like attitude, staring at many customers.
Contrary to the golden mask, he wore a simple and outdated coat, like a bumpkin from the country, in stark contrast to the colorful guests.
But he can't be a bumpkin, can he? Madeleine thought. He must be the owner of the secret trading house. See how unhurried his posture is. One can only be so confident in one's own territory.
He might be teasing us by dressing like this, because we're all all dressed up like we're going to the Queen's Invitation.
Madeleine didn't know, but Duan Feizhuo, who was standing at the door, was thinking **** it, did he want to dress up so spectacularly? "Uncle Joseph" why don't you leave me some clothes?
