Pei Jing walked up the north ramp with an oiled pigskin sack on one shoulder. A hundred and nine low-grade stones rode in it. Together they weighed about sixteen pounds. It was the quiet hum of the stones that drew attention. Anyone who’d spent a few years in these streets could feel it through the wrapping.
Three men had followed him from the rental registry. One limped and carried an iron-headed club. The other two kept to the wooden walks above the sulfur canal. Pei Jing stayed in the middle of the paved road until he reached the Four Seas Merchant Association.
Two Foundation guards in bronze armor stood outside the stone bank with marsh mastiffs at their heels. The Star-Suppressing Array hummed above the steps. The men behind him stopped forty paces away.
Inside, the air smelled of stone, lamp oil, and polished coin. Assayer Qian wore blue silk with five coins stitched into it. A brass scale hung in front of him.
“Exchange or deposit?” he asked, dipping a quill.
“Exchange. Low-grade for mid-grade.”
“The official rate is a hundred to one. The Four Seas Association charges for sorting and stamping.”
“How much?”
