Zhuo Yu Feng Yang Chapter 5
byChapter 5 Customers Grow, Undercurrents Stir
Stall Owner Sun was an old hand, having run a stall on Antique Street for ten years. The items he dealt in weren’t top-tier, but he had diverse sources, managing to turn a profit on everything from copper coins and jade artifacts to porcelain shards and seals.
When he stepped into Xianyun Studio holding a brocade box, Jiang Zhuo was bent over, registering information for a pair of Republic-era porcelain vases. He looked up only when he heard the faint chime of the copper bell.
“Boss Jiang, Boss Jiang!” Stall Owner Sun’s face was wreathed in smiles. He placed the brocade box on the counter, rubbing his hands together. “Hearing you stand up to Zhao Sihai yesterday was truly satisfying! I just acquired a small item here, but I’m unsure about it. I specifically came to ask for your expert opinion. The fee is negotiable, absolutely negotiable.”
Jiang Zhuo put down his pen and gestured for him to open the box. Inside lay a palm-sized copper seal. The body of the seal was covered in mottled verdigris, and the knob was a small, rearing beast, giving it a distinct antique feel.
He reached out and picked up the copper seal, his fingertips tracing the patterns on the body. The system prompt sounded instantly:
Ding—Item detected: Republic-era imitation Han Dynasty copper seal
Material: Cast brass
Era: Twenty-fifth year of the Republic of China (1936)
Features: Seal inscription is in seal script, “Diligence can compensate for lack of talent”; carving is decent. Defect: Verdigris is artificially aged, and the lines carved on the seal knob appear slightly stiff.
Estimated Value: 800–1,000 yuan
Jiang Zhuo put down the copper seal, his tone frank and direct: “Brother Sun, this is a Republic-era imitation of a Han piece, not a genuine Han Dynasty ancient seal. Look at this verdigris—it floats on the surface and flakes off if you scratch it; it was applied later. Also, the beast head on the seal knob, the lines are too straight and rigid, lacking the simple, lively spirit that Han Dynasty artifacts should possess.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Stall Owner Sun’s face, but he quickly relaxed, slapping his thigh. “It is an imitation, just as I thought! I knew something was off when the seller rushed me to pay on the spot without letting me examine it closely. Thank goodness I brought it to you, or I would have lost my capital!”
He pulled a hundred yuan note from his pocket and firmly pressed it into Jiang Zhuo’s hand. “Boss Jiang, a small token of appreciation for your trouble. Don’t think it’s too little. If I get anything else I’m unsure about in the future, I’ll definitely have to bother you again.”
Jiang Zhuo didn’t refuse, accepting the money and nodding. “Come anytime.”
Stall Owner Sun left, profusely grateful. As he exited, he made sure to chat with the owners of the neighboring shops, praising Jiang Zhuo’s accurate eye and honest character.
These words seemed to sprout wings and quickly spread through the middle section of Antique Street.
Over the next few days, Xianyun Studio gradually saw more customers. Some came for appraisals, some came to sell small items, and some old patrons, hearing about the young, sharp-eyed boss, came specifically to join the excitement.
Jiang Zhuo welcomed everyone. His appraisals were accurate, and his words were sincere. If an item was genuine, he clearly explained the era, features, and value. If it was a fake, he pointed out exactly where the imitation lay, never trying to deceive anyone. If someone tried to trick him with a counterfeit, he wouldn’t expose them, simply stating, “I won’t purchase this item,” and the person would sheepishly leave.
The reputation of Xianyun Studio was slowly but surely built up this way.
That afternoon, the sunlight was perfect, streaming through the window lattice and casting fine golden light on the copper coins on the counter. Jiang Zhuo was polishing a Qing Dynasty jade hairpin he had just acquired when the copper bell at the door suddenly chimed, the sound heavier than usual.
He looked up. Standing at the entrance was a man in a black trench coat, tall and straight. He wore sunglasses and exuded a cold aura that warned people to keep their distance. The man entered without speaking, hands behind his back, scanning the items in the shop. His gaze finally settled on Jiang Zhuo, carrying a sense of scrutiny.
“Are you Jiang Zhuo?” The man’s voice was deep, like tempered ice, devoid of emotion.
Jiang Zhuo set down the jade hairpin and nodded. “I am. May I ask if you are here for an appraisal or to sell an item?”
The man didn’t answer. He pulled a heavy wooden box from his briefcase and placed it on the counter with a sharp sound. His voice was cold and hard. “Take a look at this.”
The wooden box looked ordinary but felt surprisingly heavy. Jiang Zhuo opened the lid. Inside was a palm-sized jade pendant, pure white like mutton-fat jade. It was carved with a phoenix holding a branch in its beak, wings spread, its posture lifelike. It was clearly no ordinary piece.
The system prompt exploded almost instantly, sounding unusually urgent:
Ding—High-value item detected!
Item: Qing Dynasty Hetian white jade phoenix pendant
Material: Hetian mutton-fat white jade
Era: Qianlong period of the Qing Dynasty
Features: Jade quality is fine and oily; carving style is consistent with the Imperial Workshop. The phoenix’s posture is lifelike. There is a fine crack along the edge of the pendant, likely caused by a later impact.
Estimated Value: 800,000–1,000,000 yuan
Jiang Zhuo’s eyes narrowed.
This jade pendant was extremely valuable, and its condition was rare. It was definitely not the kind of collectible found in an ordinary household. What concerned him more was the man’s heavy presence and the hostility hidden between his brows—not the look of a typical collector.
He put down the pendant and looked up at the man, his tone still calm. “A Qing Dynasty Hetian mutton-fat white jade pendant, crafted by the Imperial Workshop. The carving is top-notch. Unfortunately, there is a fine crack on the edge, which affects the value somewhat. Are you looking to sell?”
The man removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of sharp, hawk-like eyes that fixed intently on Jiang Zhuo, as if trying to see through him. “I’m not asking if it’s real or fake. I’m asking if you dare to buy it.”
Jiang Zhuo understood the subtext of the statement perfectly.
In the antique world, the biggest taboo was touching a “hot potato” like this. The origin of this jade pendant was likely dubious, and getting involved could lead to inescapable trouble.
He was silent for a moment, his fingertips lightly tapping the counter surface, the rhythm unhurried, as if he were calculating, or perhaps giving the other party time to respond.
“Items of unknown origin,” Jiang Zhuo looked up, meeting the man’s gaze openly, stating clearly, word by word, “Xianyun Studio does not purchase.”
The man’s face instantly darkened, and his tone carried a hint of threat. “Many people are scrambling for this pendant. A small shop like yours could take this deal and immediately make a name for itself on Antique Street. Why turn away money?”
“I aim for long-term operation, not momentary fame,” Jiang Zhuo said calmly. “Xianyun Studio conducts honest business and only accepts items with clear provenance. I cannot help you with your item.”
The man stared at him for a long time, the coldness in his eyes almost spilling out, as if judging whether Jiang Zhuo was speaking the truth or feigning integrity.
Finally, the man sneered, reaching out to close the wooden box with a hint of ruthlessness. “Interesting. You are the first person who dared to speak to me like that.”
With that, he turned and left. The hem of his trench coat swept over the threshold, bringing in a gust of cold wind. He didn’t even offer a farewell.
The copper bell chimed softly as the wind pulled the door shut, but the air in the shop remained heavy.
Jiang Zhuo watched the man disappear at the end of the alley, his finger movements slowly stopping. A trace of subtle gravity flashed in his eyes.
He knew this matter likely wouldn’t end so easily.
In the evening, as he was closing the shop, Wang Youde walked in carrying a tea caddy. The first thing he asked was, “Did a man in a black trench coat come looking for you just now?”
Jiang Zhuo nodded and poured Wang Youde a cup of hot tea.
Wang Youde took the cup but didn’t drink. His expression turned serious. “That was Old Hei from West City. His hands are dirty; he specializes in dealing with antiques and calligraphy of questionable origin. You didn’t accept his item, did you?”
“I didn’t,” Jiang Zhuo replied.
Wang Youde breathed a sigh of relief, patting his chest. “Thank goodness you kept your head, kid! Old Hei is ruthless. A shop owner who got greedy and took his stuff was later reported. The shop was sealed, and the owner went to jail. You must be careful. That man holds a grudge and probably won’t let you off easily.”
Jiang Zhuo picked up his teacup and took a sip of the hot tea. The warmth flowed down his throat, but it didn’t dispel the chill in his heart.
He had long anticipated that mixing in the deep waters of the antique circle wouldn’t always be smooth sailing.
He just hadn’t expected trouble to arrive so quickly.
As night deepened, Jiang Zhuo locked the door of Xianyun Studio and walked along the empty bluestone path.
The streetlights were dim and yellow, stretching his shadow long and thin.
He felt his phone in his pocket. The screen showed a text message from Elder Zhou, asking if he had acquired any good items recently.
Jiang Zhuo replied to the message, then looked up at the deep night sky in the distance.
The wind carried a chill, and also a faint, elusive sense of danger.
But his steps remained steady, one by one, firmly planted.