Chapter Eight: The Underground Imperial Study

After that lavish welcome dinner thrown by Yue Leiting, I never saw Huo Qian again. Xiao Lianshan and I were settled into Yue Leiting’s house on the outskirts of the city—a place so enormous it was almost frightening. In 1984, people’s desires for grand homes were nowhere near as feverish as they are now, but to me, Yue Leiting’s estate seemed like a palace.

I had never slept on such a soft bed before; when I lay down, it seemed to rise and fall beneath me. Xiao Lianshan, ever curious, spent a long time carving a hole in it with a knife, just to discover rows of springs inside. Only later did we learn it was called a Simmons mattress. Still, Xiao Lianshan was uncomfortable sleeping on it, uneasy and far less content than he was when laying a blanket on the cement floor.

Yue Leiting was an early riser. One morning, as I came down from upstairs, I saw him pacing anxiously in the hall. I asked if anything was wrong. He said it was nothing major, just that since Lianshan and I had been here for so long, he hadn’t yet taken us out for a stroll. Rubbing his crew cut, he said we should go out together today.

I nodded. After living here for so long, things weren’t quite as I’d imagined. Yue Leiting had barely asked anything of me or Xiao Lianshan. He spoke casually today, but I knew the time had come when he needed us.

Yue Leiting’s car stopped on the outskirts of the northern part of the city, outside a village. It had been raining the whole way. The country roads, made of yellow mud mixed with stones, were especially treacherous in the rain, muddy and difficult to traverse. Even on sunny days, the bumpy ride was hard to bear.

There weren’t many households in the village, and each house stood far apart from the next, giving the place an air of tranquility and peace. Watching the rain fall over the village, I was suddenly struck by melancholy. When it rained in the mountains, it was just like this. I’d been away so long—I wondered how Qin Yishou was now. He had rheumatism; rainy days like this left him unable to get out of bed. Once, I was there to help him, but now he was alone. My fingers brushed over the spot where he had severed one of them, and I finally understood the bond of blood. Even his knife couldn’t sever my longing for him.

Yue Leiting held the umbrella over me, snapping me out of my reverie. Xiao Lianshan, by some odd habit, always liked to walk ahead of Yue Leiting. I knew Liu Hao often wanted to say this wasn’t proper, but I understood the reason: Xiao Lianshan’s position shielded Yue Leiting, blocking any danger from the front. I believed Yue Leiting knew this, too.

We walked a long way before Yue Leiting stopped at the door of a farmer’s house. The man who answered was fat with a meticulously combed few strands of hair, sunglasses perched on his nose, and a bright green jade ring on his finger—clearly a fine piece. In his hand, he held an elegant, old-fashioned purple clay teapot.

His appearance and bearing were wholly out of place in this poor village, standing before a small, shabby house.

When he saw me and Xiao Lianshan with Yue Leiting, his face soured with displeasure.

“What’s this, Boss Yue? We agreed it’d just be the two of us for the deal on your turf. Bringing people along isn’t exactly playing fair.” His Mandarin was thickly accented with Cantonese.

Yue Leiting didn’t reply. He walked inside, tossing the snakeskin bag he’d been carrying onto the table and gestured for me to shut the door.

“You should know my reputation—I say what I mean. What’s the issue with bringing two people? If I really meant to rob you, would I even need to bother? These two are like brothers to me. Just bringing them along to learn the ropes. If you’re not okay with it, I’ll leave right now.”

The fat man shot a sidelong glance at the snakeskin bag, then smiled.

“No offense, Boss Yue. We’re all risking our necks for a living. Better safe than sorry.”

Yue Leiting sat down, crossed his legs, and pointed at the fat man to introduce him to us.

“This is Zhong... Zhong...”

The fat man was impeccably polite. As soon as Yue Leiting began, he extended his hand to me and Xiao Lianshan with a jolly smile—his cheeks jiggling with the motion.

“I’m Zhong Weiguo. A pleasure to meet you both.”

“Cut the nonsense. The money’s all here.” Yue Leiting pointed to the snakeskin bag on the table. “You want to count it first, or show me the goods?”

“Everyone knows your reputation, Boss Yue. Since it’s our first deal, by the rules, you check the goods first.”

With that, Zhong Weiguo retreated to the inner room. I asked about his background. Yue Leiting told us he was a well-known antiquities dealer in Guangdong, and everything he handled was top quality. The bronze military seal I’d picked out last time had earned Yue Leiting some status—people now said he had a sharp eye. Zhong Weiguo had made contact through Liu Hao, looking to offload some rare treasures. With Huo Qian absent, Yue Leiting brought me and Xiao Lianshan along.

Soon after, Zhong Weiguo returned, carefully carrying a wooden box which he set before Yue Leiting. Opening it, he revealed a bronze helmet resting on black silk—majestic, covered in verdigris. Yue Leiting examined it for a long time, then handed it to me.

The moment I weighed it in my hands, I knew it was a warrior’s helmet from the Shang dynasty. Across from me, Zhong Weiguo raised an eyebrow, giving me an appraising look and praising my sharp eye for recognizing the era at a glance. Xiao Lianshan, curious, asked how I could tell it was Shang when there were no inscriptions.

I explained that many Shang dynasty bronze helmets bore taotie motifs on the front, round protrusions over the ears, sometimes adorned with dragon patterns, and a round tube at the top which likely held feathers. The helmet in my hand had double-curled taotie designs, with prominent eyes, nose, ears, and horns.

Yue Leiting got straight to the point, asking if it was genuine. After studying it for a while, I nodded and said the material was old—definitely not fake.

Satisfied, Yue Leiting told Zhong Weiguo to name his price.

“Since Boss Yue likes it, let’s make friends on our first deal.” Zhong Weiguo spread five fingers. “At this price, you’re sure to make a profit.”

Yue Leiting smiled faintly and pushed the snakeskin bag toward him, telling him to count out fifty thousand. Zhong Weiguo beamed and reached for the money, but I handed the helmet back and told him, unhurriedly, “Try it on.”

“What?” Zhong Weiguo was taken aback.

“Put the helmet on your head,” I repeated.

“But... it’s covered in verdigris... and it belonged to a dead man. You want me to wear it?”

I kept the helmet held out. Seeing I wasn’t joking, Yue Leiting frowned. “Put it on, quit talking.”

Zhong Weiguo hesitated but had no choice. He tried to put on the helmet, but it was far too small for his head. Sweat broke out across his broad face as he panted that it wouldn’t fit. Smiling, I took the helmet and offered it to Xiao Lianshan. Before I could say anything, he pushed it away, saying he’d worn steel helmets for years—no need to try it; this one was simply too small.

Content, I nodded and turned to Yue Leiting.

“Brother Ting, the material is genuine, but the helmet itself is a fake. It’s worthless.”

“Take a closer look before you say that. How could the helmet be fake if the material is real?” Zhong Weiguo was growing anxious.

“This helmet can’t fit any of us—let alone ancient people, who wore their hair in topknots. The material is real, probably cut from some larger, damaged bronze object. Trying to pass off this kind of shoddy work—you’d really dare fool us with it?” I shot him a glare.

“Heh, you tried to cheat me, of all people? You’ve got guts. So, by the rules—are you leaving a hand or a foot?” Yue Leiting leaned back in his chair, expressionless.

Zhong Weiguo paled, then flushed. The truth was, this bronze helmet was almost flawless as a replica. Had it not been for the size, few would have spotted the trick. Zhong Weiguo clearly hadn’t expected me to catch on and gave me a long, searching look.

“Boss Yue, this is a misunderstanding. I was fooled by the item myself. Please, come with me—while I’m no expert, I have a few other odds and ends. Perhaps you’d like to take a look.”

Yue Leiting let out a cold laugh. I followed him into the inner room. Zhong Weiguo lifted a wooden panel under the bed, revealing a staircase descending into darkness. Flashlight in hand, he stood at the entrance, his face eerily lit.

Xiao Lianshan, without hesitation, was the first to descend, moving with a fluid precision that spoke of special training.

When Yue Leiting and I followed, we found ourselves in a basement of more than thirty square meters. Only when Zhong Weiguo switched on the lights did I grasp the meaning of “a world within a world.” The entire space was decorated in Ming and Qing dynasty style, dominated by brilliant gold and Song motifs, with gilded columns and vivid dragons—like a miniature imperial study.

Stepping inside, the first impression was the solemn majesty of royalty. Yue Leiting turned and told me to take a good look, see if anything was worth displaying.

Zhong Weiguo, hearing this, wore a peculiar, self-satisfied smile.

“I truly misjudged you, Qin. So young and already an expert. Please, have a look at my collection.”

Though Zhong Weiguo spoke politely, I could sense the condescension and provocation in his tone. After all, the antique trade is all about having an expert eye. No matter how smart you are, true discernment takes decades to hone. To try and judge antiques without years of experience is simply making a fool of oneself. Zhong Weiguo had been in the business for decades—dealing fakes was taboo, a rule he surely knew.

I realized now why he’d started with a fake bronze helmet: he was testing the depth of Yue Leiting’s knowledge. Clearly, to him, Yue Leiting was a nobody. In truth, Yue Leiting knew nothing about antiques—but he hadn’t expected me to see through the ruse. Still, these were just beginner’s tricks. Judging by Zhong Weiguo’s expression, he clearly looked down on the three of us.

The rosewood bookshelves in the basement were filled with porcelain of all shapes and sizes, and paintings, yellowed with age, hung on the walls. For a moment, I wondered if I’d stepped into another world. The exquisite porcelain, with its lifelike designs, invited me to run my hand along its graceful curves—I could feel the weight of history, the beauty and splendor forged by the passage of time.