Chapter 31: Great Expansion Bracelets

Gu Zhao was torn between laughing and crying.

He never imagined that the trees in the forest behind the village were small-leaf rosewood—he remembered villagers chopping branches and twigs there for firewood and cooking.

“No wonder the steamed buns had a faint fragrance—turns out they were cooked over small-leaf rosewood,” Gu Zhao rubbed his chin. “Did ancient emperors ever get this extravagant?”

Thinking of this, Gu Zhao’s eyes lit up.

“I recall our family furniture didn’t use small-leaf rosewood, did it?” Gu Zhao asked.

Gu Qi snorted, “Small-leaf rosewood? Why not use huanghuali instead?”

Seeing Gu Zhao show rare interest in the family business, Gu Qi explained, “Small-leaf rosewood and huanghuali are too expensive and scarce—we have to fight to get them. We do make them, but mostly as decorative pieces paired with other furniture; even a single piece of furniture made from them becomes a store treasure.”

“Nowadays, our furniture materials are imported from overseas—mostly black and yellow rosewood, large-fruited rosewood, red acidwood, and black acidwood.”

“I remember there’s also chicken-wing wood and huanghuali,” Gu Zhao asked. “Is there a big difference between huanghuali and huanghuali?”

“Goldfish and sharks are both fish—do you think there’s a big difference?” Gu Qi shook his head. “Chicken-wing wood and huanghuali are cheap woods used for budget furniture—we don’t use those.”

“Oh.” Gu Zhao nodded half-understanding, then asked a question that nearly made Gu Qi jump out of his seat: “What if I had a way to get a large quantity of small-leaf rosewood?”

Gu Qi stared at Gu Zhao, eyes blazing, then asked, “Have you paid them yet?”

Gu Zhao, “...”

“Hasn’t someone lured you overseas to Siam, Shan, or India?” Gu Qi’s gaze held worry—Gu family had been single-line for two generations, and he had only this one son.

Gu Zhao was speechless. “You’re so sure I’ve been scammed?”

“Huanghuali and small-leaf rosewood have always been in short supply. Suppliers are fixed, and buyers rarely change faces,” Gu Qi said. “Unless you pay a premium, newcomers can’t get any stock.”

“If someone approaches you claiming they can supply large quantities of small-leaf rosewood, don’t hesitate—it’s 100% a scam,” Gu Qi declared firmly.

Gu Zhao chuckled, then suddenly asked, “Does our factory have a machine for drilling beads?”

“Of course we do—we sell bead bracelets, so we have the machines,” Gu Qi asked. “What, you want to try your hand? I thought you never liked this stuff before.”

Gu Zhao nodded. “Now I do. Take me to see it tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Gu Qi had no objection—it was their own business, and Gu Zhao’s sudden interest pleased him. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to the office. There’s still stock in the factory—I’ll pick you a piece of small-leaf rosewood and carve a set of beads myself.”

Gu Zhao asked, “Can you carve on the beads?”

“Of course, but don’t carve anything—the natural grain of small-leaf rosewood is already stunning,” Gu Qi said. “Any carving would be adding feet to a snake.”

“Carve a single Great Expansion talisman on the bead,” Gu Zhao sat up straight, excited. “Just a shallow engraving—then I’ll fill it with cinnabar!”

Gu Qi looked at Gu Zhao with utter disbelief. “If you want to carve a magic artifact, why not use peach or jujube wood? Why insist on small-leaf rosewood?”

“Do we have peach or jujube wood in the factory?” Gu Zhao asked.

To be honest, he was curious—why did Daoist wooden artifacts usually use peach and jujube wood? Was there something truly special about them?

If possible, he wanted to test the difference between making artifacts from peach/jujube wood versus small-leaf rosewood.

“Of course not,” Gu Qi shook his head. “We don’t make religious artifacts. If you want peach wood, old Li next door makes solid wood furniture—he has walnut. Would that do?”

Gu Zhao slumped back onto the sofa. “Northeast tiger and your Land Rover are both tigers—why not use a Northeast tiger instead?”

“Hey!?” Gu Qi raised an eyebrow.

At that moment, Li Man and the nanny walked out of the kitchen with the meals. “Dinner’s ready!”

The next day, Thursday.

Li Man went to inspect several stores; Gu Qi took Gu Zhao to the furniture factory on the outskirts.

Besides the office and workshop, the largest area of the factory was the warehouse, divided into raw material and finished goods storage.

Gu Qi first greeted the master craftsmen, then led Gu Zhao on a tour of the warehouse, finally retrieving a piece of small-leaf rosewood from a small, card-access room at the very back of the raw material warehouse.

“So tightly secured?” Gu Zhao asked.

“The wood in this one small room is worth more than all the wood outside. Do you think we need this much security?” Gu Qi held up a piece of wood and led Gu Zhao toward the workshop.

Gu Zhao thought back to what he’d seen in that small room—it wasn’t much, just ordinary-looking wood. He couldn’t tell at all that these were the kings of wood: huanghuali and small-leaf rosewood.

“If you want to play around, there’s yellow rosewood and black acidwood over there—take any you like.”

In the workshop, Gu Qi pointed to some leftover scraps nearby—these were usually made into small pendants, given away or sold, and he didn’t stop the craftsmen from occasionally taking some.

But Gu Zhao had no interest. “I’d rather watch you make beads. How many bracelets can you make from this?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted two? One for me, one for your mom,” Gu Qi grunted. “You’d dare ask me to make something to give to me?”

“But I’ll draw talismans and open their light for you!” Gu Zhao declared confidently. “I’ve cultivated under Grandpa—I’ve opened the light on artifacts. They’ll make you live a hundred years, free of illness!”

Gu Qi chuckled but said nothing.

As someone from the outskirts of Yangcheng, close to Hong Kong, he naturally believed in feng shui and fate—this was one reason why Gu Zhao’s Daoist upbringing and occasional mystical talk never faced opposition from his parents.

Now, with Gu Zhao seriously talking about drawing talismans and opening light, Gu Qi thought it was at least a good sign of filial piety, so he didn’t argue.

It was just a piece of small-leaf rosewood!

From then on, Gu Qi didn’t call any workers to help—except for occasional help from Gu Zhao, he handled everything himself.

Cutting, drilling, polishing...

After polishing all the beads, Gu Qi picked up three. “One bead per bracelet, right?”

“Yes,” Gu Zhao nodded eagerly, then unfolded a Great Expansion talisman. “Two will do.”

Gu Qi said nothing, glanced at the talisman, put on his glasses, sat down, and began carving.

Gu Zhao watched beside him, seeing Gu Qi use the hole as a horizontal axis, shifting his small knife across the bead’s surface—lines quickly appeared.

Moments later, the Great Expansion talisman was complete, forming a perfect circle on the bead’s surface, filling it entirely. At first glance, the bead was covered in Daoist talismanic script, radiating a mysterious artistic beauty.

“So beautiful!” Gu Zhao marveled.

“I studied under a master,” Gu Qi boasted. “Yin-yang relief, high relief, flat relief, round relief—your little carved line engraving on rosewood? Child’s play.”

“Dad, you’re awesome! Now it’s my turn!”

As he spoke, Gu Zhao pulled out pre-prepared cinnabar and brush from his backpack, dipped the brush lightly, and began drawing the talisman—his magic power flowed through the brush into the cinnabar, then seeped into the rosewood bead.

The father and son worked in perfect sync, quickly finishing the three talisman-marked beads and stringing them together with the others into three bracelets.

“Three?” Gu Zhao asked.

“One’s for you!” Gu Qi grumbled.

Gu Zhao grinned. “That’s it?”

Gu Qi nodded. “Just polish them one last time, and they’re done.”

Feeling the faint spiritual power radiating from the three bracelets, Gu Zhao was thrilled—the cinnabar used here was more abundant, and the effect was even better than the Great Expansion talismans drawn on yellow paper.

Great Expansion Bracelets—completed!