[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981":3,"chapter-that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-chapter-160":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","That Year, the Flowers Bloomed in 1981",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2294578,4489,"Chapter 160: Those Who Aren","that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-chapter-160",160,"\u003Cp>Wei Jiaxian and Tan Min were driven out by Guan Dasheng and his mother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Really playing the fool to catch the tiger, wanting to swindle our stuff without spending a penny—dream on!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiaxian was shoved and spat on by the pair, yet he still insisted on writing a note and slipping it into Guan Dasheng’s pant pocket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Here’s my contact info—if you change your mind, find me. I only have eight thousand yuan.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“To hell with your eight thousand yuan—get lost!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Dasheng shoved Wei Jiaxian out the door and slammed the courtyard gate shut with a clang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back inside, Guan Laoda was chatting merrily with Guan Ciying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Now I’m thinking about it—that other guy who never spoke, why did he radiate such righteous energy? Turns out they’re from the museum?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not quite, but close enough—they’re all rigid bureaucrats. Anything fine that lands in their hands is wasted.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tan Min carried the sharp aura of a soldier; Guan’s brothers hadn’t noticed before, but now, imagining it themselves, they naturally assumed Wei Jiaxian was some kind of researcher and Tan Min was a security guard for restoration work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How can someone like this go out collecting antiques himself without fearing disciplinary action?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Disciplinary action? It’s not like two years ago anymore. Whoever grabs it owns it. Even fools are waking up—times have truly changed!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Guan family laughed together, unaware that after leaving their courtyard, Wei Jiaxian quickly found a quiet spot and pulled out paper and pen to begin drawing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every pattern, vine, bird, and even the faint traces of age-wear on the Ming dynasty five-color floral bird teapot were rendered with perfect accuracy, not a single detail off.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tan Min stared at Wei Jiaxian in astonishment, his earlier contempt and resentment vanished into thin air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just moments ago, he’d been shoved and cursed at, barely avoiding the spittle thanks to his agility—he’d thought he’d been utterly humiliated,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>but now it didn’t seem that way at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother-in-law, you’re making a forgery to swap it for the real thing?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiaxian said nothing until he finished drawing every detail, then said: “I don’t do that kind of thing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then what are you doing? I’ve followed you and Old Song long enough—I thought I knew all the tricks of the antiques trade?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiaxian didn’t answer Tan Min, but directly ordered: “I’m going to Dongshan Zicheng. Book me the fastest train ticket.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re ordering me around now? Think you’re something special.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tan Min grumbled at Wei Jiaxian but immediately went to book the ticket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Capable people are always respected, and this time, the two of them were only one part of the plan—if anything went wrong, wouldn’t Old Song laugh at them?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tan Min didn’t like Wei Jiaxian, but after all, he was his brother-in-law’s brother-in-law—Old Song was the one he truly couldn’t stand!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan CiHui chatted with her brother for a while, ate a bowl of overly salty soybean paste noodles, then left Beier Tiao alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her son Guan Dacheng had indeed settled in Beier Tiao, waiting to sell the antiques and split the money before returning home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, that was the story they told outsiders; the real reason? Guan Ciying was wary—keeping someone at home as a lookout in case anything happened, so someone could send word.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan CiHui boarded a bus, rode north for dozens of miles beyond the city, and finally reached her registered village, Baishi Township.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Getting off the bus, she happened to spot the group of ragpickers from Helan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One handcart, two backward tricycles, plus piles of broken furniture and old goods—these were their entire belongings and harvest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Guan CiHui’s view, these people were small fry driven out of the capital by bigger fish, now scavenging for worms and insects in this land of dirt and stones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Guan Ciying get off the bus, they greeted him warmly: “Uncle Guan, you went into town? Buy anything good?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Ciying smiled: “Bought nothing. My son went into town for odd jobs—I thought I’d tag along, but they said I was too old and wouldn’t take me. Hehe.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“They’re blind! Uncle Guan, your physique is stronger than any young man’s! Besides, your ancestors were wealthy, right? Just toss us one thing—it’s worth three years of their labor!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I don’t have that many good things—you’ve seen my shabby place! No more talking—I need to hurry home for dinner, or my wife will have already scrubbed the pot.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hahahaha~”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ragpickers chatted a bit more with Guan Ciying, then watched him leave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once Guan Ciying was far away, they whispered among themselves: “We should visit his place sometime—we made a hundred and eighty yuan from that snuff bottle, that was a real feast.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I say we should learn more from Old Song—he gave us this tip after just one drink, and we made a hundred and eighty yuan!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Right, right! That old man’s got skills—two days ago, following his method, we spotted that chair and made forty-five yuan in one turn!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Damn, you made forty-five and didn’t say a word? You’re buying us lamb soup today.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Two bowls of lamb soup? Fine—I’ll throw in two steamed buns too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All of them were delighted to befriend an old man surnamed Song, unaware they’d already been manipulated by him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet some unexpected turns were things Old Song hadn’t foreseen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiaxian rode a train for over ten hours, finally arriving in Zicheng, then transferred to a bus and traveled forty kilometers south until reaching an industrial zone half-hidden in a mountain hollow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was Boshan District of Zicheng, one of the four great porcelain capitals of China, boasting a long history and cultural heritage, as well as the world’s largest ceramic factory at the time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in the decades that followed, this world-leading factory disintegrated, scattering across surrounding hills into hundreds of small and large kiln workshops, quietly preserving the ancient traditions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only when “Zicheng Grilling” became popular did people rediscover it—whether affordable everyday porcelain or exquisite gift pieces worth thousands, visitors marveled at them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>According to some porcelain shop owners, within months, all warehouse stock sold out; household tea sets rose to forty yuan per set, and customers didn’t blink—previously they’d sold for only twenty-five or thirty!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These honest people felt ashamed just raising prices by fifteen yuan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello, may I ask where Hua Minzhi lives?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello, may I ask...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Breathing the heavy scent of coal smoke, Wei Jiaxian asked his way until dusk, finally locating the man he sought in a dormitory section of the porcelain factory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uncle Hua, I’m Xiao Xian.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re... Xiao Xian! Come in, come in! Juhua, my nephew’s here—go buy half a pound of pork head meat!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sit, sit! I haven’t seen you in years—last time I saw you, you weren’t even as tall as a chair. Who’d have thought you’d find me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The fifty-something man stared at Wei Jiaxian for a long while, then excitedly led him inside, hurriedly asking his wife to buy groceries and brewing tea.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“My father left me your address before he passed. I came here asking for directions all the way.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your father passed... when did he go?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hua Minzhi froze, nearly dropping the teapot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiaxian remained calm: “My father passed seven years ago. His old illness flared up—he didn’t suffer much.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Good he didn’t suffer... good he didn’t suffer!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hua Minzhi nodded, poured tea for Wei Jiaxian, and his excitement faded into quiet sorrow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hua Minzhi’s wife had gone out shopping; the two sat in silence for a long while before Hua finally asked: “So Xiao Xian, how are you living now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you’re without means, I can ask the factory for you—get you a temporary job. I still have some influence.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiaxian shook his head: “I’m now with Old Song in Beijing, doing the old trade.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The old trade? Old Song? You mean that pawnshop owner Xiao Song from your family?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hua Minzhi was startled, his voice turning grave: “Xiao Xian, I respect Xiao Song’s loyalty, but I despise his ways—he stirs up trouble, flirts recklessly—he’s a curse!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiaxian said nothing, pulled out the teapot’s drawings and five hundred yuan from his bag, and placed them on the table.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uncle Hua, I’ve come to ask a favor.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hua Minzhi stared at Wei Jiaxian, then at the five hundred yuan, and after a long pause, picked up the drawings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He glanced at them once and understood immediately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiao Xian, are you planning to swindle someone again? Don’t get involved in this—your family’s been single-line for three generations... don’t wade into dirty water again!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hua Minzhi’s tone was strained, laced with fear and deep unease.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Wei Jiaxian said nothing, just stared at Hua Minzhi.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their eyes locked for a long time, until Hua finally saw the glistening tears in Wei Jiaxian’s eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hua Minzhi carefully folded the drawings, whispered: “Take the money back. Tomorrow, we’ll match the glaze—deliver the item in three days. But I must say: some grudges... are better let go.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wei Jiaxian lowered his head, shook it slowly, and whispered: “Thank you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beijing, Beier Tiao Street, Enamel Factory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Dasheng pushed his half-new, half-used bicycle out the factory gate with the crowd leaving work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fellow workers subtly kept their distance, making Guan Dasheng seem strangely isolated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The factory director stood right at the gate—a man who worked less than ten days a month, spending the rest either faking illness or slacking off—a backward element no one dared get too close to.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Guan Dasheng, if you slack off again next month, I’ll fire you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yeah, yeah, I know, Director.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Dasheng nodded politely but didn’t believe a word.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just two days ago, those antique dealers who bowed upon meeting returned again; despite their fury at the Guan family’s new price hike, they didn’t storm out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This stirred greed in the Guan father and son—even the usually calm Guan Ciying began doubting whether the five-color floral bird teapot was truly worth twenty thousand yuan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Twenty thousand yuan!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>【Fire me? If I had twenty thousand yuan, I wouldn’t even piss on you!】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Dasheng rode his bicycle home leisurely, when suddenly he spotted a familiar figure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Limping, yellow-toothed, pedaling a tricycle—wasn’t that the formidable old man from Dongshan?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hey, old man.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Dasheng stopped his bicycle in front of Old Song’s tricycle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, you’re... that kid from Beier Tiao!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yeah, that’s me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Dasheng pulled out a cigarette pack with a grin and offered one to Lao Song.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Last time I owed it all to you, old man—if not for you, I’d have lost big time; sixty bucks almost got me to sell off such a great piece!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Song struck a match to light both their cigarettes, grinning with yellow teeth: “That’s true—I despise those frauds. They’ve got items worth hundreds, yet try to swindle them away for a hundred or two.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hundreds?!” Guan Dasheng said proudly to Lao Song. “People are now offering eight thousand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Eight thousand?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lao Song stared at Guan Dasheng in “shock,” then after a long pause muttered, “That doesn’t add up! Yesterday I saw a complete set just like it at Panjiayuan—asking price was only twelve hundred.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re joking.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Dasheng sneered. “Can things like that even be the same? Ours is a genuine Ming dynasty artifact.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Exactly!” Lao Song said firmly. “I examined it closely—the age, condition, provenance—all nearly identical.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your set was mass-produced from palace blueprints—neat and precise, sure—but lifeless, stiff. I’d say it’s worth eight or nine hundred at most.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re talking nonsense! I thought you were decent, gave you a cigarette, and now you’re getting uppity?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Dasheng snatched the cigarette from Lao Song’s mouth, burned his fingers, and didn’t even notice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But his heart thudded wildly inside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because his uncle Guan Ci Hui and his father Guan Ci Ying had both said: the family’s teapot set was indeed old, but lacked sufficient spiritual energy—not top-tier quality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t believe me? Go check Panjiayuan! It’s at the stall east of the big dirt mound.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait right there. If you’re lying to me, I’ll beat you senseless.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guan Dasheng hopped on his bicycle and sped toward Panjiayuan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t see the sly smile spreading across Lao Song’s face behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who could fool you if you weren’t greedy?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thank you to reader “” for the 500-coin tip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2058,"2026-06-20T05:04:59.129Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","c1c036bed334a65cab9c5195f744303e6180b34ba3e879824e61db00ec809d4f","that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-chapter-161","that-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-chapter-159",884,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthat-year-the-flowers-bloomed-in-1981-cover.jpg"]