Zhuo Yu Feng Yang Chapter 2
byCHAPTER 2: AN UNEXPECTED HAUL FROM THE USED BOOK STALL
The day after selling the Xuande censer, Jiang Zhuo woke up early.
He didn’t rush to the core area of Antique Street—the stall owners there were too shrewd, and finding a genuine bargain was nearly impossible. Instead, he turned toward the used book stalls at the end of the street. This area was a mixed bag; besides piles of old books, it contained many old items people were clearing out, often hiding surprises.
Just two steps in, the system’s prompt began to sound intermittently:
Ding—Detecting… faint… ancient artifact aura…
Signal unstable… please approach the host…
Jiang Zhuo raised an eyebrow. Following the faint, intermittent prompt, he walked up to a small stall piled high with old books.
The stall owner was a hunched-back old man dozing on a small stool. The books on the stall were haphazardly stacked, and next to them lay a few chipped porcelain bowls and a rusty copper lock—none of which looked valuable.
Jiang Zhuo’s gaze swept over the scattered items. The system’s prompt remained intermittent until his foot nudged a small wooden box buried under some old books.
The box was palm-sized, its red lacquer mostly peeled off, and the corners were damaged. It looked like an ordinary old wooden box, no different from a pile of junk.
The moment he bent down, the system’s prompt suddenly became clear:
Ding—High-value item detected!
Item: Qing Dynasty Zitan Inlaid Mother-of-Pearl Ink Paste Box (Damaged)
Material: Small-leaf Zitan wood, inlaid with polychrome mother-of-pearl
Era: Qianlong period of the Qing Dynasty
Features: The box lid is inlaid with mother-of-pearl depicting the “Four Gentlemen” (plum, orchid, bamboo, chrysanthemum), exquisite craftsmanship; defect is a missing piece on the edge of the lid and two spots where the mother-of-pearl has fallen off.
Estimated Value: 12,000–15,000 yuan
Jiang Zhuo’s heart skipped a beat.
Small-leaf Zitan, mother-of-pearl inlay from the Qianlong period—even damaged, this was a fine piece.
He squatted down without changing his expression, casually picked up an old book pressing down on the wooden box, flipped through it, and then picked up the wooden box as well. Pretending to be nonchalant, he rubbed it. “Old man, how much for this old book and this broken box?”
The dozing old man woke up, rubbed his eyes, and glanced at the items in Jiang Zhuo’s hand. He waved a hand. “Books are five yuan each. The box… it was just tossed here, nobody wanted it. If you want it, take the book and the box for ten yuan.”
Jiang Zhuo didn’t haggle. He immediately pulled out ten yuan and handed it over, tucking the old book and the wooden box into his pocket before turning to leave.
He hadn’t walked far before he found a quiet alley and pulled out the wooden box for a closer look.
It was exactly as the system described: a small corner of the lid was missing, and two spots of mother-of-pearl inlay had fallen off the surface, exposing the Zitan wood underneath. But the remaining mother-of-pearl still shimmered with color. The outlines of the plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum were clear and the lines delicate—clearly the work of a master craftsman.
The tricky part was that the box was visibly damaged. If he took it directly to Debao Xuan, Wang Youde would likely drive the price down. Repairing both the mother-of-pearl and the Zitan would take considerable effort, and not everyone was willing to buy damaged items.
Jiang Zhuo frowned, his fingertip lightly tracing the damaged edge.
He recalled a memory from the original owner: behind this Antique Street lived an old carpenter surnamed Chen. He used to make antique reproductions years ago. His craftsmanship was superb, especially in repairing wooden artifacts and mother-of-pearl inlay, but he was known for his eccentric temper and reluctance to deal with people.
After a moment of thought, Jiang Zhuo put the box away and headed toward the depths of the old street.
When he found Chen the Carpenter’s house, the door was ajar. Jiang Zhuo knocked, and a hoarse voice called out from inside: “Come in.”
The courtyard was filled with stacked lumber. A white-haired old man was sitting on a stool, holding a carving knife, meticulously working on a piece of Zitan wood.
Jiang Zhuo didn’t speak. He simply placed the ink paste box on the wooden table in front of the old man.
Chen the Carpenter looked up, and his usually cloudy eyes suddenly brightened. He put down his carving knife, picked up the wooden box, and examined it thoroughly, turning it over and over. His fingers gently brushed the missing mother-of-pearl before he sighed. “A fine piece, a pity it’s damaged.”
“Master,” Jiang Zhuo said directly, “I’d like to hire you to repair it. Name your price.”
Chen the Carpenter squinted at him and scoffed. “This job is troublesome. I need to find matching polychrome mother-of-pearl, and the Zitan patch needs to match the color. It’s time-consuming and exhausting. I’m old, and I can’t be bothered.”
Jiang Zhuo had anticipated this. He pulled out the cigarettes he had bought yesterday and offered one. “I know it’s troublesome. If you’re willing to take the job, I’ll pay this amount.”
He held up two fingers.
Chen the Carpenter’s gaze fell on his hand. He raised an eyebrow. “Two thousand?”
Jiang Zhuo shook his head, his tone calm. “Two thousand is the deposit. After the repair is finished, I’ll add three thousand more.”
Five thousand yuan in labor costs was nearly a third of the ink paste box’s estimated value.
Chen the Carpenter was stunned, then burst into laughter. He took the cigarette but didn’t light it, tucking it behind his ear instead. He pointed to an empty stool in the courtyard. “Sit. I’ll take the job. Come back in three days to pick it up.”
Jiang Zhuo felt relieved.
He knew the money was well spent.
If the repair was done properly, this damaged ink paste box could sell for not just its original estimated price, but perhaps even higher.
After all, a complete Qianlong mother-of-pearl inlaid ink paste box was a highly sought-after item in the antique market.
Jiang Zhuo didn’t idle during the three days.
Carrying the rest of his money, he wandered Antique Street daily, but he wasn’t in a hurry to buy anything. Relying only on his Elementary Appraisal Eye, he surveyed every stall on the street. He noted which stall owners liked to hide private stock, which items were genuinely old, and which were carefully aged fakes.
This was a habit he had learned in his previous life—sharpening the axe doesn’t delay the chopping. Understanding the market meant fewer detours.
On the evening of the third day, Jiang Zhuo arrived at Chen the Carpenter’s house right on time.
The courtyard gate was open, and the air was scented with wood shavings and lacquer. Chen the Carpenter was sitting by a stone table, holding a piece of fine sandpaper, carefully polishing the repaired area of the ink paste box.
Hearing footsteps, Chen the Carpenter didn’t look up. “You’re here? Take a look.”
Jiang Zhuo quickly walked over, and a hint of astonishment flashed in his eyes as he looked at the ink paste box on the stone table.
The missing corner of the lid had been seamlessly patched. The color of the Zitan repair wood was almost identical to the original, and even the grain followed the existing pattern. The two spots where the mother-of-pearl had fallen off were now inlaid with new polychrome material. The color was bright but not jarring, blending with the luster of the old inlay. At first glance, it looked as if it had always been this complete.
Even more commendable was that Chen the Carpenter hadn’t over-restored it, preserving the patina and signs of age on the box body. Whether viewed from afar or up close, it was a high-quality antique piece.
“Truly excellent craftsmanship,” Jiang Zhuo praised sincerely.
Chen the Carpenter finally put down the sandpaper. His face was expressionless, but his tone carried a hint of pride. “My old man’s livelihood—how could it be shoddy?”
Jiang Zhuo didn’t waste words. He pulled out the three thousand yuan balance and handed it over.
Chen the Carpenter didn’t count it, stuffing it directly into a drawer. He then picked up a brocade box from beside him. “I found a matching box for you. It’ll improve the presentation.”
Jiang Zhuo thanked him, took the brocade box, carefully placed the ink paste box inside, and turned to leave.
Walking out of the alley, the setting sun painted the sky a warm orange. Jiang Zhuo didn’t go straight back to his rented room. Instead, he took a turn and headed toward Debao Xuan again.
The copper bell chimed softly. Wang Youde was calculating accounts. He looked up and saw Jiang Zhuo, raising an eyebrow. “Well, young man, got another good piece?”
Jiang Zhuo smiled. This was the first time he had smiled in front of Wang Youde, softening some of his usual coldness. “Boss Wang has sharp eyes. Take a look at this.”
He placed the brocade box on the table and opened it.
The Zitan wood of the ink paste box was deep and lustrous, and the mother-of-pearl shimmered under the light. The patterns of the plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum were lifelike. Wang Youde’s gaze instantly fixed on it. He put down his ledger, picked up a magnifying glass, and leaned in, his fingers lightly stroking the box lid. Even his breathing softened.
This time, he examined it longer than before, meticulously checking everything from the mother-of-pearl inlay technique to the Zitan wood grain and the details of the repair marks.
After a long moment, he put down the magnifying glass and looked at Jiang Zhuo, his eyes now holding a hint of seriousness. “A Qianlong Zitan inlaid mother-of-pearl ink paste box, complete condition, exquisite craftsmanship. You, young man, truly have a sharp eye.”
He paused, then added, “The repair work is excellent. Chen the Carpenter’s handiwork, I presume? He’s the only one on this entire street with that skill.”
Jiang Zhuo neither nodded nor shook his head. He simply asked calmly, “Boss Wang, what price can you offer?”
Wang Youde pondered for a moment, tapping his finger lightly on the tabletop. “This item is rare on the market. If it were completely original, it could sell for upwards of twenty thousand. Although yours has been repaired, the craftsmanship is good, so it doesn’t affect the overall value much. I’ll give you eighteen thousand. How about that?”
This price was three thousand yuan higher than Jiang Zhuo’s expectation.
Jiang Zhuo’s heart stirred slightly, but his expression remained calm. He just looked at Wang Youde without speaking.
Seeing this, Wang Youde chuckled. “You, young man, aren’t old, but you put on quite the air. Fine, I’ll add another thousand. Nineteen thousand. I can’t go any higher. Any more, and I’d be selling it at cost.”
“Deal.” Jiang Zhuo finally nodded.
Just like last time, Wang Youde paid the money promptly.
This time, he didn’t rush to ask for Jiang Zhuo’s contact information. Instead, he handed over a business card. “If you have good items in the future, call me anytime. If anyone gives you trouble, you can mention my name. I still have some pull on this street.”
Jiang Zhuo took the business card, his fingertips touching the cool card stock, which bore the embossed gold lettering: “Wang Youde, Debao Xuan.” He put the card away, thanked him, and turned to leave Debao Xuan.
Clutching the heavy stack of cash, Jiang Zhuo walked down the street, feeling the evening breeze.
From the initial two hundred thirty yuan, his funds had multiplied nearly a hundredfold to nineteen thousand in just a few short days.
He looked up at the distant neon lights, his eyes growing brighter.
The antique world was deep and turbulent, but for him, it was paved with gold.
And this was only the beginning.
He touched the business card in his pocket and thought of the highly skilled Chen the Carpenter. He already had a new plan.
His next step was to rent a small shop. He would no longer be a traveling vendor, but would truly establish roots on this Antique Street.
Meanwhile, inside Debao Xuan, Wang Youde respectfully said to the person on the other end of the phone, “Today, I might have truly met someone who can help you.”