Chapter 48: Main text Chapter Forty-Eight Fragrant Shoe

Main text Chapter Forty-Eight Fragrant Shoe

Fragrant shoe (Strictly prohibited from reprinting)

At night, Pangzi counted the bills one by one under the lamp, over and over, but he just couldn't get it straight; it's not his fault—I felt dazed the first time I saw so much money.

Pangzi simply stopped counting, lit a cigarette, and while smoking said to me, 'Lao Hu, what can I say about you? You're clever all your life, but muddle-headed for a moment. How can you say this money is borrowed? Besides, you still have to pay interest to that American girl. I think we should just pull out—go back to our southern hometown and let her never find us, driving her to despair.'

I said, 'You're hopeless—this little money is nothing. Someday I'll take you to dig up a few pieces of loot, trade them around, and that'll be enough to pay her back. What we lack now is just this bit of capital; with money we won't have to worry about tomorrow's meals, and with a budget we can buy decent gear. Starting now we'll refurbish and reopen, make proper preparations—I'm definitely going to hit a big tomb.'

We two figured that the ancient tombs hidden deep in the mountains aren't that easy to find, and we don't know when we'll find one; although this money is a lot, we also fear running out of it.

Pangzi is someone with a fairly good business sense; he thinks Lao Jin Ya's trade is not bad, dealing in antiques is definitely a high-profit industry, especially selling to foreigners, though nowadays the foreigners who often come to China have become savvy and aren't easy to fool—but if there really is something good, they won't hesitate to spend money.

Pangzi said, 'Lao Hu, what do you think about us putting in some capital to open a shop? We could collect antiques and burial goods to sell; if we do well we might not need to dig tombs—digging tombs brings money fast, but it's really damn hard.'

I nodded and said, 'That's a really good idea, Pangzi—you're still sharp. Now we have funds, we can start small and meanwhile learn some antique appraisal knowledge.'

So we went around looking for a storefront, but never found a suitable one; then we thought, why bother with a shop? Let's just get some stuff and set up a stall at Panjiayuan—Panjiayuan's feature is its miscellany, with all sorts of things big and small from ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign, but truly valuable burial goods are rare; those are usually traded privately and seldom displayed for sale.

At first, following Da Jin Ya's tip, we collected small items like pre-Qing bowls, plates, jars, old coins, snuff bottles, old pocket watches, etc., in the suburbs, then brought them back to the antique market to purchase.

Maybe I'm not cut out for business in this lifetime—my judgment is off. When collecting, I treat worthless things as treasures, and when I get valuable items I can't judge them properly and sell them as ordinary goods; I've hardly made any money, actually losing quite a bit.

However, we didn't spend much on these little items, so losing a bit of money isn't a big deal; the main point is to sharpen our eyes and gain knowledge. After spending time at Panjiayuan, we realized how vast and deep this trade is—even more complex than feng shui—and it can't be mastered overnight.

By the way, that day it was almost noon; the antique market was rather quiet, not many people around, and I, Pangzi, and Da Jin Ya were gathered together playing a game of 'Running Fast'.

We were getting into the game when suddenly a person came up front, loitering around our stall without leaving. Pangzi thought they wanted to look at things and asked, 'What's up, sir? What are you looking at?'

The person mumbled, 'I'm not looking at anything—do you buy antiques?'

I raised my head to size them up; they looked about thirty-six or thirty-seven, with a purplish-red complexion—clearly someone who often works in the fields under the sun—dressed in rustic clothes, carrying a torn leather bag, and speaking with a thick Loess Plateau accent.

I thought, what antiques could this person have? I glanced at Da Jin Ya; he's an expert. Although this villager is unsightly and extremely rustic, I didn't dare look down on him, so Da Jin Ya gave me a look, signaling me to keep him steady and find out more before speaking.

I took out a cigarette, offered one to the villager, lit it for him, and asked him to sit down and talk.

The villager clearly hadn't seen much of the world and wasn't used to social niceties; he sat on the stool I gave him, clutching his torn leather bag tightly, and said nothing.

I looked at his torn leather bag and wondered if this guy was a tomb robber, as if he'd done something guilty, or maybe his bag held something valuable. I tried to keep my tone calm and asked, 'Brother, come on, don't be formal—have a smoke, this is Yunnan tobacco—what should I call you?'

The villager said, 'Call me Li Chunlai.' He might not be used to the stool, so he pushed it away and squatted on the ground; once squatted he relaxed a lot, and his smoking motions became brisk.

Da Jin Ya and Pangzi pretended to keep playing cards; that's how this line of work is—when negotiating, you can't have a crowd, first because it's the rule, second because you don't want to scare off the customer; generally people who want to sell antiques are nervous, afraid of being watched and robbed.

While smoking and smiling, I asked, 'So your surname is Li, I see you're older than me—I'll call you Brother Li, Brother Chunlai. You just asked if we buy antiques—do you have any burial goods you want to sell?'

Li Chunlai didn't understand: 'What burial goods?'

Seeing that he was a simpleton, I directly asked, 'Do you have any antiques or similar items you want to sell? Could you let me take a look?'

Li Chunlai glanced left and right, then whispered, 'I'm hungry and have a shoe—how much can you give me for it?'

Hearing that, I got angry enough to snap, 'Your broken shoe and you still want money for it? Damn, even the loss money probably nobody wants.' Then I thought maybe it's not that simple, so I patiently asked, 'What kind of shoe? Whose shoe is it?'

Seeing that I was fairly amiable and a bit bolder, Li Chunlai opened a narrow slit in his leather bag for me to peek inside; I craned my neck and saw inside his torn bag an embroidered shoe that had been worn by an ancient woman with three-inch golden lotus feet.

Li Chunlai didn't let me examine it closely, quickly fastening his leather bag shut, as if the shoe would fly away if I looked too long.

I said, 'Why all the fuss? Take it out so I can look—I still haven't seen it clearly. Where did you get this shoe?'

Li Chunlai said, 'Boss, if you want it just name a price; don't worry about anything else.'

I said, 'Brother Chunlai, you have to let me hold it to have a look—how can I quote a price if I can't see it clearly?' I then lowered my voice and added, 'Are you worried about all these eyes around? If not, I'll invite you to the restaurant up front for a bowl of lamb-and-meatball dumplings; I often discuss business there, it's very quiet. Then if it really is a nice item we can negotiate the price—what do you think?'

Upon hearing about the lamb-and-meatball dumplings, Li Chunlai's mouth watered: 'Great, let's not stand here baking in the sun—if there's anything, we'll talk after we finish the sour soup dumplings.'

(Next update time, still this time, updating a big chapter)