Three silver spatial rings clattered against the bamboo porch steps, tumbling to a halt right beside Deacon Vane’s velvet slippers.
Lord Voren kept his iron forehead pressed against the wet gravel.
“Fifty thousand for each of our three moons,” Lord Voren rasped, his voice muffled by the mud. “And an additional fifty thousand to replace the crushed turnips and secure the Grandmaster’s favor. Two hundred thousand Sovereign Jade Cores in total.”
Deacon Vane’s long sleeves fluttered as he scooped up the three rings with practiced elegance.
He pressed the first ring to his forehead, sending a sliver of divine sense into the dimensional storage space. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the endless stacks of shimmering, condensed celestial jade.
Click. Click. Clack.
Deacon Vane’s golden abacus purred like a contented cat.
“Two hundred thousand confirmed,” Deacon Vane announced, tucking the rings into his inner pocket with a flourish. “The Master Ash Benevolent Herb Fund acknowledges your humble deposit.”
