"Sir, if you're willing to part with it now, I'll offer one million two hundred thousand," the silver-haired old man continued. With just one simple cut, the price of the rough stone had multiplied several times over. There's a saying in stone gambling: "one cut to heaven, one cut to hell." How true that seemed now. If that last cut had revealed nothing, forget one million two hundred thousand—it probably wouldn't even have been worth twelve thousand.
'To sell or not to sell?' The difficult decision was now Shen Yibin's. He stared at the window cut into the stone, momentarily at a loss. Logically speaking, this was enough money to rent the shop and pay for renovations. He had already achieved his goal for this trip. It seemed he could just take the one million two hundred thousand and walk away.
