Chapter Seven: Mending the Fold After the Sheep Are Lost

The entire Li Village was filled with the bustle and joy that comes before the New Year. Yet, elsewhere, two people were consumed with anxiety and dread. Just after the Little New Year’s Eve had passed and before the rooster crowed at dawn, the burly Luo Ming slipped away from the Guanyin Temple under the shroud of darkness, setting off on foot to a nearby village in search of an acquaintance.

This was an important task assigned by the temple keeper Li—the mission: to bring in a new deity for the Guanyin Temple.

As for how to invite one and where to find one, Luo Ming had no idea, and Li was just as clueless. He’d merely heard from fellow Taoists that there were incense and Buddhist supply shops in the city selling consecrated statues. Grasping at straws, Li had seized on this rumor as his last hope.

Li would stay and guard the temple; Luo Ming, as usual, would run the errands. With their livelihoods at stake, Luo Ming dared not slack off or complain. He set out in a state of nervous anxiety, aware that in the city, every trade had its own rules, and it would be best to have an insider guide him, lest he be taken advantage of. He thought of a not-so-close friend in the neighboring village.

That friend's nickname was Hei Qi—no one remembered his full name.

When Luo Ming arrived in the neighboring village on foot, Hei Qi wasn’t home; he’d gone to the city. Thinking quickly, Luo Ming got his phone number from a relative and immediately caught the shuttle bus into town.

As fate would have it, he was headed that way anyway, which made things easier.

After arriving in the city, Luo Ming didn’t seek out Hei Qi right away. Instead, he wandered through a few incense shops to assess the situation. Since he and Hei Qi weren’t close, he feared being swindled, so he wanted to avoid appearing completely ignorant. By the end of the morning, he had gleaned a thing or two.

It turned out the incense shops did have some statues, but those were merely for display. The smaller ones were shoddy at best—akin to the guardian arhats found in temples—and unfit for the main hall. The shop owners were forthright, telling him that if he wanted a quality statue, he’d have to visit the Antique Market.

Out of gratitude, Luo Ming bought some incense and paper offerings. Seeing he was a considerate customer, the owner confided that only two shops in the city were truly reliable: "Ink Jade Studio" and "Hanwen Pavilion."

Relieved to have avoided unnecessary detours, Luo Ming silently praised Li for his “keen eye” in choosing such a resourceful errand boy.

Anxious to proceed, he scouted out the two shops. He didn’t speak to anyone—the shops were crowded, and nobody noticed him. That suited his desire to keep a low profile, so he’d even pulled up his collar to avoid recognition.

After leaving the two shops, he felt reassured and called Hei Qi.

---

About half an hour later, Hei Qi arrived as promised—clearly a helpful sort. Luo Ming arranged to meet him at a small eatery; it was nearly noon, and he planned to treat Hei Qi to a bowl of beef soup before getting down to business.

Hei Qi cracked a joke right away: “Aren’t you a Daoist priest? Out eating meat as soon as you step out?”

Luo Ming, feeling awkward, saw that Hei Qi was at ease and replied with a grin, “Guanyin herself eats meat—my tastes just happen to match.”

“Does Guanyin drink, too?” Hei Qi continued to tease.

Luo Ming forced a laugh, “Come on, don’t poke fun at me! Beef soup with booze—that’s a strange combination... I do have an urgent favor to ask, though.” With just a few words, the distance between them seemed to shrink, and Luo Ming decided not to beat around the bush.

“Go on, if I can help, just say the word. If I can’t, I won’t make promises,” Hei Qi replied readily.

Luo Ming lowered his voice, “I want to buy an antique—something with some age, at a fair price.” He kept it vague, knowing the gravity of the situation, and Li had warned him to be discreet.

Hei Qi wasn’t suspicious, but he asked, “What do you want with an antique?”

Luo Ming hesitated, then stammered, “Well… Just a bit of curiosity, you know, always hearing people talk about it…”

Hei Qi, a streetwise man, interpreted it differently. “You want to resell? That’s a money pit—where would you get the capital?” Hei Qi knew of Luo Ming’s financial state and his reputation for loving the bottle; such men rarely had savings.

“Uh…” Luo Ming quickly improvised, “You’re the expert, so I won’t hide it. Lately, I’ve had some luck—won a bit at the tables. Everyone’s been saying antiques are a gold mine these days, so I thought I’d try. You know your stuff; if you can introduce me to the right connections, you’ll get your cut.”

Hei Qi didn’t get excited, only said mildly, “It’s a risky business, and it’s easy to be fooled. It’s not as simple as people make it out to be. If you lose, you lose everything…”

Having begun the lie, Luo Ming had no choice but to continue: “With you around, I’m not worried about losing it all… You know me, I’m a spendthrift, and the little I get from the temple isn’t enough. I’m thinking of finding another way out, while still keeping the old trade going. You could take me on as an apprentice, how about it?”

Hei Qi’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk. “Let’s not beat around the bush—how much have you got?” He rubbed his fingers together, and the meaning was clear.

Luo Ming thought carefully before answering, “About twenty thousand on hand…”

“Twenty thousand?” Hei Qi looked disappointed.

Luo Ming caught on immediately and protested, “Not enough? Twenty thousand’s no small sum, considering the risks.”

Hei Qi showed a hint of disdain. “You must be joking. If you’re not bold, antiques aren’t for you. That kind of money isn’t even a down payment.” Still, he had some patience and explained to Luo Ming the types of antiques, market prices, profit margins, and sales channels. Luo Ming nodded repeatedly, his mind racing.

Luo Ming had done some research on prices, and Hei Qi wasn’t exaggerating. Suddenly it felt as if he’d stumbled onto a treasure—a new path to wealth. Who would have thought that running this errand for his master would yield such a windfall? If he could break into this business, not only would the issue of the Guanyin statue be solved, but he’d also have a lucrative sideline unknown to others. How could he let such an opportunity slip away?

He waved for the owner to slice another plate of dried beef and bring two bottles of baijiu. Discussing big deals over just soup seemed stingy, and Hei Qi didn’t object.

After two cups, Luo Ming’s old habits surfaced.

“Brother, you’re a few years younger than me, but you have to look after me. You know the ropes, and I’ll be honest—I can probably raise a bit more money. How about we start small and make a tidy sum first?”

Hei Qi was most interested in this, but feigned nonchalance. “How much could you raise?”

Seeing his expression, Luo Ming grew annoyed, “Don’t look down on me. Ten, maybe twenty thousand more—twenty thousand in total. Is that enough?”

Hei Qi nodded enthusiastically, “That should be enough to get started.”

Pleased, Luo Ming clapped him on the shoulder, “You’re a real friend. Cheers!” They clinked glasses and each downed another round.

“Brother, just so we’re clear, don’t cheat me,” Luo Ming said, half joking, half in earnest.

Hei Qi, a little tipsy himself, slurred, “Cheating you would be cheating myself!”

“I like that! We’re from neighboring villages, we know each other well,” Luo Ming said, feeling a kinship grow between them. Fate, indeed.

“So, what kind of antique should we start with?” Luo Ming asked, thumping his chest, full of bravado.

Hei Qi pondered for a moment, then said seriously, “The most profitable way is to find an overlooked treasure.”

“Overlooked treasure?” Luo Ming didn’t understand.

Hei Qi explained, “Let me put it this way—antique dealing depends on having a discerning eye. If you spot something others don’t, you can strike it rich. Ever heard of gambling on jade?”

Luo Ming nodded vaguely, and Hei Qi let it slide.

“Finding an overlooked treasure is a bit like that, but safer. We don’t have raw jade here, but there’s plenty of finished jade. The age is hard to determine, and the quality varies wildly. Most dealers in the Antique Market just make a small margin, but some items come from scrap collections—every batch has one or two pieces worth a fortune. You get what I mean?”

Luo Ming’s eyes flickered. He’d heard of picking antiques from junk at the gambling tables, and now it all made sense.

“Of course, I get it. That’s easy enough to grasp,” Luo Ming said, suddenly feeling like an insider. “But how do you pick good jade? Doesn’t the owner know its value? Won’t he jack up the price?”

Hei Qi smiled confidently, “That’s where I come in. It’s all about who has the better eye, and there are no fixed prices.”

Luo Ming glanced at him, shrewdly probing, “Brother, tell me the truth—have you already got your eye on something?”

“Actually, yes.” Hei Qi named a shop Luo Ming hadn’t heard of—it wasn’t one of the two he’d visited.

“That place doesn’t seem famous,” Luo Ming hesitated.

Hei Qi drank a cup, wiped his mouth, and said, “Exactly. If it were famous, would there be any bargains left?”

That made sense, and Luo Ming, now eager for wealth, dropped his doubts.

“Be straight with me—how much do I need to invest for the first deal? Preferably a sure bet.”

Hei Qi thought for a moment, then said, “No point making pennies. Go too high and you might get burned. Let’s split the difference—put ten thousand into goods, and don’t just buy jade. I’ve also got my eye on a mid-Qing blue-and-white porcelain, an official kiln piece. If I had the funds, you wouldn’t even get a chance at it.” He hiccupped. “I’m just being frank…”

Luo Ming thought Hei Qi was being sincere, but ten thousand still made him hesitate.

Sensing his indecision, Hei Qi pressed his advantage, “Don’t worry, this is our first time partnering. If we profit, it’s all yours. If we lose, I’ll take the hit.”

“How could I let you do that?” Luo Ming protested, though he was secretly thrilled by Hei Qi’s generosity. “If we make money, you’ll get your share. I’m not the type to burn bridges.”

Hei Qi just smiled.

Suddenly, Luo Ming remembered his real task. “By the way, what’s the going rate for an old gold-plated Buddha statue?”

“How big? Gilded or plain? The craftsmanship matters…” Hei Qi replied.

Luo Ming estimated vaguely, “Like the one in your village’s Guanyin Temple.” He couldn’t describe it exactly but knew Hei Qi’s village had a similar temple.

Hei Qi considered, “That would be expensive…”

“How expensive?” Luo Ming pressed.

Hei Qi held up two fingers, “Even two hundred thousand might not get you a genuine one.”

Luo Ming clicked his tongue—an intimidating price, but he felt justified. He couldn’t help mocking Li’s naiveté for only giving him twenty thousand—what a joke.

Hei Qi looked surprised, “You want to deal in that? Aren’t you worried about sacrilege?”

Luo Ming shook his head quickly, “Just speaking offhand. If I ever do, it’ll be after I’ve made some real money…” Hei Qi nodded and said no more.

They kept drinking, ordering two or three more bottles of baijiu. By the time Luo Ming boarded the shuttle bus back to his village, he was snoring thunderously within minutes, fast asleep.