Betting on Rocks and Blowing up the Streets, My Spiritual Eyes Can See Through Everything

Qin Shixu squatted in front of a street stall at the entrance of the alley, holding a piece of wool slightly smaller than a palm in his hand. The surface of the stone was rough, with a dark red rust texture, and there was an obvious crack on the edge. The stall owner threw it among a pile of scraps. The price tag read "300 yuan per piece, no return unless cut."