Fortune 017: The Journey

Daddy Heavenly Way showed he understood, and, recalling the old adage ‘spare the rod, spoil the child,’ decided to give Nan Shi a knock on the head to help him remember his lesson!

Nan Shi’s throat was hoarse, with a hint of tonsillitis—every time he tried to speak, the pain lanced through his throat like a razor. Guo Xingxian, watching him, suggested, “Let’s hit the hospital as soon as we get off the train. See what’s wrong; who knew choking on cola could cause this much trouble?”

Nan Shi nodded miserably, still unsure if it was just a coincidence or something more.

As a result, he could not speak a word for the remainder of the journey and had to chat with Guo Xingxian via text, even though they sat less than a meter apart. They soon found themselves deep in conversation over their phones.

Nan Shi reminded himself repeatedly: do not tempt fate by talking about fortune-telling again, lest Daddy Heavenly Way punish him further. Talking brought him a sore throat—type too much, and who knew, maybe he’d lose use of his fingers!

He wanted no part of that!

They soon arrived in Yiwu. Guo Xingxian hailed a cab and took Nan Shi straight to the hospital. Oddly, just as they were waiting to register, Nan Shi’s sore throat miraculously vanished!

Incredible!

Guo Xingxian looked at him, exasperated. “Really okay now? Well, we’re here—may as well get a checkup.”

“I’m fine,” Nan Shi waved him off, pulling him back toward the exit. “No, I told my folks I’d only be away two or three days. With the wait here, we’d burn up an entire day. Xingxian, I’m pressed for time—every day my shop is closed is money lost.”

Guo Xingxian rolled his eyes. Back at school, he’d had two nicknames: “Guo’er” and “Xing Girl,” whichever the roommates fancied.

“Fine, have it your way,” he relented. Choking on a drink was hardly serious, and he led Nan Shi straight to the Yiwu Small Commodities Market.

They called it the “small commodities market,” but the scale was anything but small. The place was comprised of seven or eight buildings joined into a single massive commercial complex. Outside, even the market provided golf carts and sightseeing cars. Unlike in other places, every cart here featured spaces specifically meant for luggage.

Perhaps many had the same idea as Nan Shi—crowds bustled everywhere across the plaza.

Guo Xingxian had been here before and navigated the place confidently. “The jewelry section’s in Block B. My uncle has a shop there—let’s start there.”

He flagged down a sightseeing car, paid ten yuan, and pulled Nan Shi aboard. The driver sounded a few horns to clear a path before driving on.

Block B was an eight-story tower, its shops varied in size—some took up half a floor, others barely four or five square meters. Yet whether large or small, every space was crammed to bursting with goods ready for shipment.

Prices were marked—most extremely cheap, from just a few to a few hundred RMB.

Korean-style jewelry had been trendy for years, so the first and second floors were all about hair ties, hairpins, and barrettes. Nan Shi scarcely showed any interest, so Guo Xingxian led him straight to the third floor.

No sooner had they set foot inside than Nan Shi nodded in satisfaction—this was more like it. The very first shop by the escalator specialized in traditional Chinese ornaments, and Nan Shi’s eyes lit up. The proprietor, reading the signs keenly, shouted, “Browse freely, boss! The price is negotiable!”

This shop was about ten square meters; cabinets lined the walls, stuffed with neatly packaged goods labeled by price. Display pieces hung from the panels, dazzling Nan Shi’s eyes.

Guo Xingxian looked around and shot Nan Shi a knowing look, signaling that nothing here was any good. But Nan Shi was too taken with it to notice.

“Look at this string, Guo’er—this is really nice!” Nan Shi pointed to a red bodhi seed bracelet.

It was the standard formula—108 beads, each flattened, the design plain yet elegant. The color was a rich, uniform red, and the finish was smooth and delicate.

“Boss, these sun bodhi bracelets are very rare! From my batch, I only have eighty-one left!” the owner jumped at Nan Shi’s interest.

Guo Xingxian took a look, his brows arching, and uttered a phrase from the antiques trade: “Not worth it.”

Tsk. Sun bodhi bracelets were cheap, yes, but finding 108 beads of identical hue was no trivial task. Just look at the sea of bright-red bracelets in those clear bags—obviously dyed!

How had Nan Shi’s judgment of quality ever revived his antique shop?

Guo Xingxian reckoned that eighty yuan might be fair, but knock off a zero.

Hearing “not worth it,” Nan Shi immediately caught on, glanced around, and pressed on to the next shop with Guo Xingxian.

They visited seven or eight shops in succession, but found the same story everywhere: either the quality just wasn’t there, or the products weren’t natural at all. Nan Shi soon felt a headache coming on.

“This won’t do, Guo’er.” After over an hour, his suitcase was still empty. He pursed his lips. “I thought I’d at least fill half my case today.”

“Don’t worry, keep looking.” Guo Xingxian gestured toward a shabbier-looking shop up ahead. “Let’s try that one.”

Inside, it was a little dim; the lighting was nowhere near as dazzling as that of the other shops. On the back wall hung a calligraphic scroll: “Heaven rewards the diligent.”

The owner was an old man brewing tea. When they entered, he barely lifted his lids, pouring water over a golden cicada on the tea tray before topping off another cup for himself. His accent was a little odd. “Let me know if you find anything you like.”

Somehow, the atmosphere here felt inexplicably more refined.

Usually, a shop run like this was a sign of genuinely good goods. Nan Shi soon spotted several pieces he liked, jotting down model numbers and prices on his phone—never foolish enough to buy without comparison shopping.

He murmured to Guo Xingxian, “Are these any good?”

“Right at a glance, the prices are fair, too. About market rates—you might get three or four yuan off per piece if you order bulk, that’s about it,” Guo Xingxian replied.

“Brother, you’re solid!” Nan Shi flashed a thumbs-up; a guy who’d grown up in a jewelry family said it was good—so it had to be good. Without hesitating, Nan Shi stepped up to haggle with the old man. “These ones—I’d like a hundred of each. Can the price go any lower?”

The old man gave Nan Shi a long look, poured himself another tea, then an extra two cups, and shot them a cool sidelong glance. “No bargaining.”

Nan Shi didn’t mind, reaching for a cup and downing it in one gulp—he was thirsty after all that wandering.

The tea was bitter at first, then astringent, but as it slid down, a refreshing fragrance welled up from his esophagus, leaving a sweet aftertaste. After months of drinking tea with Chi You, Nan Shi’s palate had matured—he couldn’t help but praise, “Excellent tea!”

Guo Xingxian had grown up drinking tea with his elders, so he drained his cup and smacked his lips. “That’s good tea!”

At the compliment, the formerly cold-faced old man broke into a hint of a smile. “Is it? My cousin brought it over for me. I’ll brew another pot!”

“Young people who know tea are few these days—outside of Chaoshan, you rarely meet any at all. I’ll tell you, tea is a fine thing…” The old man, seeing their interest as they sat down to listen, was in high spirits, launching enthusiastically into his lecture. The three hit it off—mainly Guo Xingxian doing the talking, while Nan Shi just drank tea.

By the time they were full up on tea, they’d also bargained the price down by ten yuan per piece and exchanged contacts for future shipments. Nan Shi was delighted, clapping Guo Xingxian on the shoulder as they left. “Amazing! You can sniff out a hidden shop like this? Divine touch, man. Someday I’ll steal a couple of my senior brother’s tea cakes for you to try!”

“…?” Guo Xingxian hadn’t grasped his meaning before Nan Shi added, “Just agree for now—try them first, then decide if you want more!”

Chi You’s thousand-year-old tea cakes, never expired, were sure to please Guo’er!

With half his suitcase now filled, Nan Shi’s Yiwu mission was already halfway done. He followed Guo Xingxian to his uncle’s shop.

Guo’s uncle had a shop on the eighth floor. The moment they stepped out, Nan Shi noticed the area was much quieter—few customers and much more stylish décor, but most shops remained closed. Who knew if they actually did business?

Guo Xingxian led Nan Shi to a locked storefront, swiped a card, and the door clicked open. He whispered, “This place only serves regulars.”

“So classy?” Nan Shi began to panic. “Guo’er, let me be clear—I can’t afford stuff that costs hundreds of thousands per piece.”

“No worries. My uncle deals in lower-grade materials, mostly sold to old clients. I brought you here to get ahead of the crowd. My dad let him know; it’s all good.” Guo Xingxian thought for a moment and gave a ballpark figure. “Low-ice jadeite bracelets are about a thousand apiece; you’ll sell them for ten, twenty grand each with ease.”

“Perfect!” No sooner had Nan Shi spoken than the door swung open and a jovial, Tang-suited middle-aged man appeared. His face brightened at the sight of Guo Xingxian. “Ah, Xingxian! There you are!”

Guo Xingxian greeted him naturally. “Uncle Zhang, it’s been a while!”

“It’s only been a year or so, but your looks have changed a lot!” Boss Zhang glanced at Nan Shi. “This the friend you mentioned? Come in, don’t just stand at the door!”

Inside, Nan Shi felt a little uneasy, though he couldn’t say why.

Boss Zhang led Guo Xingxian over. “Come, time to pay your respects at the incense altar!”

Nan Shi watched, baffled, as Boss Zhang took Guo Xingxian over to a small shrine—inside, a memorial tablet stood, the incense burner crowded with old sticks, clearly a frequent site of offerings.

The plaque read: “Seat of the Xinghua Immortal Family, Lingnan Village.”

What was going on?

Guo Xingxian seemed used to this. He took up a bundle of incense, lit it, and divided it among Boss Zhang and Nan Shi. Boss Zhang nudged him. “With you here, I don’t dare take the first stick! You go first!”

“Uncle Zhang, you’re my elder!” Guo Xingxian tried to decline, but finally gave in and placed the first stick.

Nan Shi, following Boss Zhang, clumsily made his own offering. As soon as they’d finished, Boss Zhang beamed. “Great, great! With you here, Xingxian, I’ll have fortune and prosperity all year!”

Nan Shi poked Guo Xingxian. “What’s this all about?”

Guo Xingxian replied with resignation, “Superstition.”