Fortune 007: An Encounter on the Road

The room was scarcely large; naturally, Nan Shi heard every word of the argument between the two men. He walked over as if nothing were amiss and asked with complete composure, “Is there something in particular you’re interested in?”

Old Wang pointed to the seal and said, “Boss, could you take this seal down for us? Could we see how it stamps?”

Nan Shi carefully removed the seal, smiling as he replied, “I acquired this by chance, and I wish to preserve it in its entirety, so I’m afraid I can’t stamp it for you. But you’re welcome to examine it—just please be careful.”

He did not immediately hand the seal to them, but instead led them to the reception table, inviting them to sit. He took a velvet mat and gloves from under the table and offered them to the pair. They hurriedly put on the gloves, their eyes fixed intently on the seal in Nan Shi’s hand.

Only after donning gloves himself did Nan Shi pick up the seal, showing both its intactness and then placing it gently upon the velvet, gesturing for them to inspect it at their leisure.

This, too, was an unwritten rule in the antiques trade. Given the value of such items, there exist unscrupulous sellers who hand over already damaged goods, then, during the transaction, deliberately let go so it falls, afterwards accusing the buyer of failing to catch it, thus sparking a dispute—and vice versa.

Some truly underhanded sellers would go so far as to claim a fake was genuine after it broke, then refuse to let the buyer leave, insisting on compensation according to its supposed true value, even if the buyer didn’t know any better.

Thus, those with even a little experience would opt for such procedures when making handovers.

Old Xia, eager yet steady, picked up the seal.

Nan Shi had selected the seal purely for appearances, so naturally, he’d chosen the most ostentatious-looking one. This particular seal was entwined by an ancient plum tree, its trunk winding upward from the base to the top, bare branches stretching out at odd, jagged angles. As for the workmanship, it could hardly be called exquisite; the plum tree was devoid of blossoms or leaves, but something about those gnarled, vigorous limbs seemed to reach straight into the hearts of its beholders, stirring them inexplicably.

“Marvelous!” Old Xia exclaimed, repeatedly clicking his tongue in admiration. He turned the seal over, found the artist’s signature—two tiny characters, “Xuanwei,” etched at the tree’s roots—and it struck him like charcoal in winter or ice in summer: a soothing delight. His nostrils flared. “Indeed, the hand of Master Xuanwei! Old Wang, you have to admit defeat this time!”

Old Wang was also staring unblinkingly at the seal in Xia’s hands, but refused to concede. “Just two characters carved and you believe it? If I engrave ‘Xuanwei’ on my spittoon, does that make it priceless?”

“Rubbish! If you don’t believe me, take a look yourself!” Old Xia put down the seal, gesturing for Wang to inspect it. He glanced at Nan Shi, only to see this young proprietor watching them calmly, smiling faintly with an expression neither pleased nor displeased, as if their debate was none of his concern. He could not resist asking, “What do you think, Boss?”

Nan Shi had already removed his gloves, and was unhurriedly brewing himself some tea—after such a busy stretch, he deserved at least a hot drink.

Hearing the question, he looked up and replied languidly, “This item was a gift from a friend. I’m not concerned whether it’s genuine or not; the thought behind it is what matters.”

A thoughtful gesture, indeed—and for thirty entire coins, no less!

Hearing this, Old Xia examined his own heart—could he ever be so magnanimous? No, he could not.

He felt a surge of respect—no wonder someone so young could serve as master of an antiques shop. Such maturity! Such equanimity! Many would struggle a lifetime in vain to attain this mindset.

Old Wang carefully scrutinized the seal—this touch, this composition, this spirit—unmistakably the work of Master Xuanwei! And yet, some vague sense of discord remained…

Suddenly, he removed his gloves, rubbing the fingertips together. His face showed a mixture of regret and confirmation. “I knew it… Old Xia, come and feel for yourself!”

“Huh?” Old Xia reached out, rubbed the spot with his thumb, and his expression grew equally complex. He let out a long sigh.

Both men’s enthusiasm seemed to fade.

Nan Shi was puzzled—he had no idea what they had discovered. He was just considering whether to inquire when the two began to analyze aloud, “This must be a recent work by your friend—or, perhaps, a recent piece by the original artist?”

Old Wang nodded. “A shame… I just thought something seemed off, a bit too new in feel. The patina isn’t right yet; give it a few years, once it’s developed a coating, perhaps I wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference.”

By ‘too new,’ they meant that the item’s age did not match—a modern replica.

Master Chen Xuanwei was a renowned carver from the Republic era; he was not the posthumous kind of celebrity, but rose to fame as soon as he entered the field and by thirty was unmatched in his craft.

It had been more than sixty years since Master Xuanwei’s passing. Even if the seal had been locked away this entire time, it could not possibly possess such ‘freshness.’

Nan Shi recalled what Old Chen had mentioned and nodded. “Perhaps. That’s what my friend said, at least.”

Seeing Nan Shi’s forthrightness, the two men’s impression of him improved markedly.

Old Wang was a dyed-in-the-wool devotee of Master Xuanwei. Sadly, most of the master’s works had been lost or destroyed in the chaos of the subsequent war. The few surviving pieces were either enshrined in the national museum or held tightly by elite private collectors—Old Wang did not own a single piece.

He was truly fond of the plum seal before him. Though a replica, its spirit moved him; even bringing it home to ease his longing would be a delight. After some contemplation, he said, “Boss, would you consider selling this seal? It’s a recent piece, but the brushwork and artistic spirit are remarkable. Name your price—if it’s reasonable, would you part with it?”

Old Wang was just wondering what price this young proprietor might ask, but Nan Shi, with genteel composure, smiled and shook his head. “Sorry, this one isn’t for sale.”

Old Xia tugged at Old Wang’s sleeve. “What are you thinking? He already said it was a friend’s gift; how could he sell it?”

“That’s true,” Old Wang replied with an embarrassed laugh, then asked, “Well, I won’t push… But can I at least ask where your friend acquired the piece?”

“That I really don’t know,” Nan Shi answered, though a thought stirred within him—and was soon suppressed.

They asked a few more questions, then, disappointed but not empty-handed, left with a pair of Five Emperor coins. Nan Shi put the plum seal back in its original place, considering—he had been tempted to sell, but remembering this was one of Old Chen’s ‘later’ works, and fearing it might harbor some lingering yin or ghostly energy…

He had his senior brother to rely on, true, but he could not in good conscience endanger a customer.

Business was business: to not be callous was to forgo great profit, but there was no need to take a life for so paltry a sum.

He’d ask Chi You about it when he got home.

With this settled, Nan Shi put the plum seal back in its ornate case, intending to take it home after work.

After the two customers departed, no others seemed to arrive. Seeing it was late, Nan Shi seized the chance to resume his reading and took a moment to check the shop’s recent accounts, calculating profit and loss.

He wasn’t sure how it happened—perhaps while tallying inventory—Nan Shi found himself unconsciously scrolling through Taobao, looking up new trending jewelry items for the shop. By the time he finished his orders and looked up, it was already pitch dark outside.

Hastily gathering his things to head home, he found himself caught on the walking street when a flash of lightning split the sky. Thunder boomed, and a torrential downpour came without warning, drenching Nan Shi before he had a chance to react.

The sheets of rain fell fast and hard, quickly filling every hollow in the uneven flagstone road. The stones, worn smooth and slick by countless footsteps, glimmered with a dim, reddish light, flickering in and out as lanterns swayed overhead.

Nan Shi managed to dodge most of the deluge, ducking beneath the eaves of a nearby shop after just a few steps, but his clothes were already half-soaked. He was already halfway down the walking street; another half, and he’d reach the parking lot… No use going back for an umbrella now, since he was already wet.

Gritting his teeth, he was about to dash into the rain when suddenly a distant tolling of a brass bell echoed through the night.

Nan Shi froze, a sense of foreboding welling up in his chest. He instinctively tried to avoid it, but two green lanterns had already appeared in his field of vision.

Two blue-clad figures walked slowly behind the lanterns, trailed by a deeper shadow that seemed to drift nearer still.

Though their pace looked agonizingly slow, in the blink of an eye they were no more than ten meters from Nan Shi.

Through the curtain of rain, he could not see clearly; all he could make out was an entirely black carriage, two blue-garbed men carrying lanterns at the front, two others holding something he couldn’t make out, and yet more shadows behind the carriage—how many in all, Nan Shi could not tell.

His scalp prickled with dread. By now, it was too late to hide. Remembering Chi You’s advice: should he meet anything ‘unnatural’ on the road and truly find himself unable to avoid it, he should simply shut his eyes and remain still—provided their business was not with him, they’d pass by harmlessly.

Closing his eyes, Nan Shi pressed himself tightly against the shop’s locked door, feeling the chill intensify as the sound of the bell drew closer.

When vision is lost, the other senses grow sharper.

Nan Shi listened as the bell’s toll moved from far to near, passing his right ear. A breeze brushed his face, as if something had just slipped past him.

But he didn’t hear the sound recede to his left.

Were they studying him?

Nan Shi dared not open his eyes, even holding his breath for fear of drawing notice; if he could, he would have covered his mouth and nose. But best not to move at all.

The rain went on, drumming restlessly on the ground, on the eaves above, on awnings, on lanterns…otherwise, there was only silence.

Were they gone?

No—better wait a little longer.

Nan Shi waited. Suddenly, his phone rang. He let it ring without moving.

It rang once, then stopped.

Nothing happened—perhaps they had already left.

…Tch, had he been standing here for nothing?

Nan Shi breathed a quiet sigh of relief. At that moment, his phone rang again. Automatically, he reached for his phone, then opened his eyes—

Two green lanterns glowed in the darkness before him.

Suddenly, everything went black. In the next instant, the world flared back to light.

A hand reached out and flicked his forehead.

Chi You stood before him, a cup of wine in hand, glancing at him slantwise. “Standing here like a fool—why didn’t you come up? Don’t you even recognize your own carriage?”

Nan Shi: …Fuck you.

Don’t try to stop him! Tonight, he was going to kill his master!