roccoschili Chapter 17: Houhai
Chapter 17: Houhai
Turn west along the north bank of Houhai Lake next to Yinding Bridge into a narrow alley. At the end of the alley is a vermilion-lacquered gate, where two burly, bald men stand.
Cheng Xiaojin arrived at exactly 2 PM.
Zhou Banxian walked behind him, his military overcoat replaced by a dark blue old Zhongshan suit. His hair was combed neatly, and he wore a pair of reading glasses on his nose. He carried a black cloth bag in his hand, which contained his copper compass and the stack of manuscript paper.
"Xiao Jin, how's my outfit? Do I look like an expert?"
"Yes, like the old forensic doctor on the examination table."
"screw you."
The bald man at the door blocked their way, his gaze sweeping over the two men's faces.
Cheng Xiaojin took out his phone from his pocket, opened the address information forwarded by Master Qi, and lit up the screen.
"Cheng Xiaojin, it was Mr. Sun who made the appointment."
The bald man took out his walkie-talkie and muttered a few words. With a buzz, the vermilion-lacquered door opened from the inside.
Upon entering, there is a screen wall, behind which is a renovated courtyard house.
The courtyard was small but well-maintained. The blue brick floor was swept clean, and two antique-style palace lanterns hung on the pillars. The door to the main hall was open, and the sound of a teapot bubbling as it boiled water could be heard from inside.
Cheng Xiaojin stepped across the threshold and into the main hall.
He glanced at the room and immediately memorized its layout: in the center was a large rosewood table covered with a velvet cloth.
To the left sat Fatty Sun, who was wearing a black silk jacket with a front opening today, and his sandalwood bracelet was twirling on his wrist.
In the right corner sat King Glasses, still wearing his gray jacket, holding his teacup but not drinking, his lenses as usual whitish.
A person was sitting in the center of the mahogany armchair.
He was in his early fifties, lean, and wore a gray Zhongshan suit with the top button fastened. His hair was combed back and slicked back.
His left hand rested on the armrest, and a silver ring was on his ring finger.
He spoke with a slight upward inflection at the end of his voice, carrying a faint Southeast Asian accent.
"Which one of you is Boss Cheng?"
Fatty Sun put down his bracelet, stood up and took two steps to greet him, his face scrunched up with fat.
"President Lin, this is Cheng Xiaojin, whom I mentioned to you. He's the one who accepted the items."
Then he turned to Cheng Xiaojin, lowering his voice by half a notch.
"Xiao Jin, this is President Lin. He flew for five hours to come here. I'll handle President Lin's affairs. Just let me know if you need anything."
Cheng Xiaojin tightened the canvas bag on his shoulder, ignored Sun Pangzi, walked directly to the large rosewood table, and cupped his hands in greeting to the person in the armchair.
"Boss Lin, the goods are mine, I know their origin, and I set the price. Let's talk face to face to be clear."
Fatty Sun stopped beading his bracelet, and the flesh on his face sagged.
"Xiao Jin, that's not how the rules are set out to be."
"Mr. Sun, I didn't break any rules."
Cheng Xiaojin's tone was neither too soft nor too hard, and he tapped the edge of the large rosewood table with his fingertips.
"I found the item myself, and I investigated its origins. You didn't do all that work in between. I appreciate your help in making the connection, but you can't handle discussing the details of the item with Boss Lin."
Fatty Sun's face instantly darkened, and he leaned forward, placing his hand on the large table.
"You little brat selling goods at a street stall, don't push your luck. I've been around Panjiayuan for twenty years, what haven't I seen? Who do you think you are, pretending to be an expert here?"
"If Mr. Sun were truly knowledgeable, the joke about selling a Qing Dynasty Daoguang-era iron incense burner as a Republic-era replica for 30,000 yuan wouldn't have circulated in Panjiayuan for more than half a year."
Cheng Xiaojin smiled, his gaze passing over Fatty Sun's shoulder and landing on President Lin's face.
"Don't you agree, Mr. Lin?"
Just as Fatty Sun was about to speak, Boss Lin, sitting in the armchair, raised his left hand.
He flipped his five fingers upwards, as lightly as swatting a mosquito.
Fatty Sun immediately shut his mouth, standing there his face turning pale and then red.
Boss Lin sized up Cheng Xiaojin for about seven or eight seconds, looking from the top of his head to the old cloth shoes with loose threads on his feet, and then back to his face.
"Please sit down."
"Young people have tempers, I like that."
Cheng Xiaojin sat down on the chair to the left of the large table, and Zhou Banxian sat down next to him, placing the black cloth bag at his feet.
Fatty Sun stood still, and the bracelet started spinning again, twice as fast as before.
Mr. Lin picked up his teacup, took a sip, and tapped the bottom of the cup on the table when he put it down.
"Boss Cheng, I came to Beijing for only one thing. I've seen the photos of that thing you have. It's in good condition, but photos don't prove anything."
"Tell me first, where did this thing come from?"
Cheng Xiaojin didn't rush to answer, but turned to look at Zhou Banxian.
Zhou Banxian took out a glasses cloth from his pocket, wiped his reading glasses, put them back on, and cleared his throat.
"Boss Lin, let me introduce myself first. My surname is Zhou. I have been studying geomancy for forty years. I know a little about the direction of the earth's veins and water veins in Beijing."
"Let me tell you the story of how this thing in Boss Cheng's hands came about."
Boss Lin shifted his gaze from Cheng Xiaojin to Zhou Banxian's face and nodded slightly.
Master Zhou began his lecture, speaking slowly and deliberately, enunciating each word clearly. He would pause for two seconds at crucial points to allow the listener to process the information.
"In the eighteenth year of the Yongle reign, the capital was moved to Beiping."
"Military Advisor Yao Guangxiao was ordered to oversee the construction of the city's flood control project."
"The underground water veins in the north of the city have nine outlets. During the flood season, the water level rises sharply, damaging the foundation."
"Yao Guangxiao ordered craftsmen to take the finest ore from the Western Mountains, refine it to remove carbon, and cast nine sets of Zhenhai ironware, each set containing fifteen pieces, to lock the nine water vein outlets."
At this point, Zhou Banxian deliberately paused and took a sip of tea.
Boss Lin leaned forward two inches and asked.
"You mentioned nine sets of Zhenhai Iron, fifteen pieces in each set. How many of those still exist today?"
"In the six hundred years since the Yongle era, there have been many wars and chaos. Less than three sets have been able to remain intact in their original locations. There are only thirty or forty pieces scattered among the people. Among those that are available on the market, not even one piece may appear every three years."
Zhou Banxian put down his teacup and tapped the manuscript paper in front of him with his fingers.
Fatty Sun, who was sitting to the side listening, couldn't help but chime in.
"I also acquired a similar item last year, which was half a kilogram heavier than this one. I eventually sold it for 50,000 yuan, and buyers were scrambling to buy it."
Zhou Banxian chuckled and pushed up his reading glasses.
"What Mr. Sun collected was a piece of iron for warding off evil spirits, cast by ordinary people during the Republic of China era. It was made of pig iron and would break easily when struck, so it didn't have the sound of a dragon."
Fatty Sun's face instantly turned a deep liver color, and he opened his mouth but couldn't utter a word.
The man with glasses remained motionless, holding his teacup, his eyes behind his lenses seemingly looking at something.
As Cheng Xiaojin sat down, he glanced at Boss Lin's left hand; the silver ring on his ring finger left a bright mark under the light.
The ring's design features a snake biting its own tail, with the head and tail forming a complete circle.
He ran his fingers along the armrest of the chair, the sound of his nails scraping against the wood grain audible only to himself.
He had seen this pattern before.
In Grandpa's handwritten notes, there was a page filled with all sorts of strange little symbols, most of which he couldn't understand, but he remembered the ouroboros clearly because Grandpa had written two words next to it in red pen.
Tail-to-tail.
At the time, he thought it was the name of some kind of ancient pattern and didn't pay much attention to it.
This pattern is now appearing on the finger of a Malaysian Chinese antiquities smuggler.
Mr. Lin noticed his gaze, raised his left hand, and twirled the ring between his fingertips.
"Why is Boss Cheng staring at my ring?"
Cheng Xiaojin smiled and looked away.
"I just thought the pattern was interesting. I had seen something similar in my grandfather's old notes before. I thought it was some kind of old pattern. I didn't expect that Mr. Lin would like it too."
Mr. Lin gave an "oh" but didn't reply, his fingers still tapping rhythmically on the armrest.
Zhou Banxian continued speaking, talking about the casting process of Zhenhai Iron, the origin of the Dragon's Roar, and the history of the ironware's dispersal over the past six hundred years.
Boss Lin listened attentively, tapping his fingers on the armrest in a rhythm that gradually quickened to match the pace of Zhou Banxian's speech.