The Rewritten Tag and the Four Silver Coin Promise

Fifteen gold coins.
According to the rigorous re-evaluation by our appraisal department, that blue stone necklace is worth exactly that much. ...What a complete lie. I just copied the exact amount of the down payment I have to pay pawnbroker Olba by the end of this month onto the price tag.
When Lolo came to the back alley with the three gold coins as promised, my fingertips were freezing. The moment he reached for his leather pouch, my hand grabbed the pen and rewrote the "3" on the price tag to "15". Lolo turned bright red, called me a swindler, and stormed off. Of course he did. It was the lowest, dirtiest trick a merchant could pull.
But if I hadn't done that, I would have handed that necklace over. For three gold coins, I would have given away all my "what-ifs."
After that, I went to Dobo the carpenter to ask him to repair my broken right wheel. It's just a mud-covered ring of zelkova wood, but without it, I can't go anywhere.
Dobo took the wheel with his soot-stained hands and said, "I'll have it rolling by tomorrow."
Dobo's repair fee, four silver coins.