Chapter 29: Poisoned

If I'm not mistaken, this three-legged bronze censer is generally used for offering incense before Buddhist altars in temples; the sandalwood scent it emits is also very pure, and if there's no surprise, it's definitely a pure yang object.

The longer it has been enshrined, the more prosperous the incense, and the greater its efficacy.

I liked this little censer, so I asked, 'Sir, may I have your esteemed surname?'

'My surname is Fang, and my given name is just the character Yuan,' the man replied.

So his name is Fang Yuan.

After obtaining Fang Yuan's consent, I picked up the bronze censer and examined it closely.

Leaving aside its efficacy, just from its age, I'd say it's at least from before the Qing dynasty.

This is indeed a good thing.

As for whether to acquire it, whether I can afford it remains to be considered.

I cautiously asked, 'Such a fine item, how can Mr. Fang bear to pawn it?'

'I need money,' Fang Yuan said sincerely. 'I have a congenital deficiency; I've been soaking in medicine vats all year. At nine, I nearly vomited blood and died. My father paid a high price to obtain this bronze censer from a temple, saying it could extend my life by a hundred years. If it weren't for the past year of bad luck and constant losses, I wouldn't bear to pawn it.'

Having said too much in one breath, he began coughing violently, reached into his pocket, took out a spray medicine bottle, and sprayed it forcefully into his mouth a few times.

A strong medicinal smell permeated the pawnshop, a bit pungent, and I followed with two sneezes.

After Fang Yuan sprayed the medicine, his cough finally eased, and he apologetically said, 'Sorry, Xiao Jiu Zhanggui, the medicine smell is a bit strong.'

'It's fine,' I smiled and said, 'This bronze censer is a decent antique; if you find a channel to sell it, you could get more.'

'But I don't actually want to sell it,' Fang Yuan said with a bitter smile. 'To me, it's a life-prolonging object and also a spiritual reliance; if I weren't in dire straits, I would never have taken it out.'

I understood: 'So you want to pawn it alive?'

Fang Yuan immediately nodded: 'Yes, a living pawn—three-month term, pawn fee of one hundred thousand. Xiao Jiu Zhanggui, do you think that works?'

I reckoned it in my mind.

I have a hundred thousand.

My grandmother left me a bank card with still over two hundred thousand.

After three months, when Fang Yuan comes to redeem the pawn, he will not only return my hundred thousand but also give me fifteen percent pawn interest.

If Fang Yuan does not come to redeem after three months, and it's over five days past the final deadline, this bronze censer will belong to the pawnshop.

Afterward, whether we offer it to Liu Junyan or sell it, we won't lose out.

This is a sure-profit, no-loss deal.

And this is also the first living pawn I've received.

But I also have my concerns: I cannot be entirely certain of the censer's authenticity, nor how much its value will appreciate.

Under my grandmother's teaching, I've also been influenced; my eye for antiques is sharp, but after all I'm not a professional, my cultivation is still shallow.

Originally, I chose cultural relics and museology as my major in university; if nothing unexpected happened, I would have continued straight through bachelor's, master's, and doctorate, specializing in this field.

Precisely because I like this major, whenever I go somewhere, I always visit the local museum.

Unfortunately, things didn't go as wished; I couldn't even attend university for a few days.

For a healthy pawnshop operation, the proprietor's keen eye and broad knowledge are vital; I lack that, so I must seek talent eagerly.

But the pawnshop is currently at the forefront of trends; ordinary people hired would likely not last a few days.

It could even endanger their lives.

Moreover, the pawnshop's main business now relies on yin pawns; ordinary people can't even see the counterpart, so how could they operate it?

One can't possibly smear cow tears every day, can they?

Thinking of this, I feel somewhat resentful.

Nevertheless, I politely asked, 'Mr. Fang, I need to examine this bronze censer more carefully; may I take a few photos? Leave me your phone number, and if I decide to take it, I'll contact you again.'

But I didn't expect Fang Yuan to be so generous: 'No need for that trouble; I can leave the bronze censer at the pawnshop for a few days, and I'll come back once I have the result. I trust Xiao Jiu Zhanggui's character.'

That's naturally most welcome.

I and Fang Yuan exchanged contact information, and Fang Yuan left.

I again held the bronze censer, playing with it for a while; inside there remained plenty of incense ash. I pinched a bit, crushed it between my fingertips, brought it close to smell—it was rich, indeed fine sandalwood incense.

I took several photos of the bronze censer from all angles, sent them to a friend for review, and just then Li Qingying came over to call me for dinner.

She saw this bronze censer, also found it quite rare, picked it up and examined it repeatedly, exclaiming, 'This is a censer for offering incense before the Buddha; it's quite old, a fine piece.'

I don't know Li Qingying's exact age, but she's at least over a hundred, so she's seen no fewer fine things than I have.

Even she says it's an antique, so that's probably not wrong.

After dinner, I again practiced archery in the courtyard for a while, drenched in sweat, then returned to my room to shower.

I don't know why, but as soon as the hot water hit me today, I felt my skin burning painfully, even though the water temperature wasn't high.

When I raised my hand to adjust the water temperature, I discovered my arms were covered in red spots the size of a fingernail.

As the water washed over them, the red spots sprouted web-like blood vessels spreading outward, soon merging into a sheet.

Some of them, under my gaze, gradually cracked open, oozing blood beads outward.

At first the blood beads were bright red, then quickly turned purple, then black…

I screamed in fright; not long after, the door was knocked, and Li Qingying's voice came: 'Xiao Jiu, are you alright?'

I hurriedly dried myself, wrapped in a towel, and went out.

Li Qingying immediately reached out to help me, but I dodged: 'Sister Qingying, please don't touch me first… I… I feel off; I might have been poisoned.'

'Poisoned?' Li Qingying puzzled, 'We've been in the shop all day today; where would the poison come from?'

She furrowed her brows in thought, likely reviewing the meal she had prepared for me today.

I shook my head: 'No, this poison probably has nothing to do with the food.'

I opened the towel to let her see my skin condition; Li Qingying's face instantly turned ashen: 'What poison is this? It's so fierce!'

By now I had calmed down, changed into clean clothes, sat in a chair, and recalled everything that had happened today.

After thinking it over, the only variable was Fang Yuan.

Could it be that the bronze small cauldron has a problem?

"Sister Qingying, check if you have any abnormalities on your body."

Li Qingying immediately opened her upper garment to look, and there was nothing wrong.

I still wasn't reassured, so I had her rinse off with water; she said she had just taken a shower and her body showed no abnormalities.

This is strange.

Sister Qingying also touched that bronze small cauldron, but she's fine—could it not be the cauldron's problem?

But aside from that, I can't think of anything else.

No!

Suddenly I thought of Fang Yuan's spray medicine bottle!

When he sprayed the medicine, the medicinal smell was very strong, choking me into coughing.

Many things are fine when placed separately, but if mixed together for use, they could produce a deadly change.

For example, food incompatibility!

I told this to Li Qingying; after hearing it, she immediately grasped the point: "In other words, Fang Yuan likely wants to harm you—it's probable that the medicine he sprayed mixed with the incense ash inside the bronze small cauldron, causing your poisoning."

Is it really Fang Yuan?

We've only met once, with no prior conflict—why would he want to harm me?

Fang Yuan is ill and urgently needs money; perhaps a hundred thousand could relieve his pressing need, but it only treats the symptom, not the root cause.

Looking at his complexion, he already shows the signs of a sickness beyond cure; what he truly needs… is not money.

But rather, life-saving medicine!