At that ti, the Baoguo Temple still had street stalls, and quite a few of them. Most of the vendors sold coins and ceramic shards. It was said that a renowned antique dealer in Beijing, who made a fortune with his “片白” (white shards), had started their business at Baoguo Temple.
Every "carrot" has its "hole." Coincidentally, I had brought ceramics and coins with , perfectly matching the type of goods sold here. My previous sense of despair was swept away in an instant, and my confidence surged.
I refused to believe that my old antiques wouldn’t find any buyers!
Luck was on my side. I managed to secure a spot right at the front of the street stalls. With my remaining three yuan, I bought two chicken sausages.
As I ate the chicken sausages, I thought to myself: “Will I starve and freeze to death in Beijing, or will I feast and thrive? It all depends on today.”
Unexpectedly, things took a surprising turn.
I had barely set up my stall for ten minutes when a large crowd gathered in front of it.
“Boss, how much for these Song Dynasty coins and Qing Dynasty coins?”
“Boss, can I take a look at that pastel-colored salt jar?”
In no ti, I was so busy I could hardly keep up.
“Boss, how much for that pair of Western-style blue vases? Just na your lowest price—if it’s reasonable, I’ll take them.”
Flustered by the sudden rush, I blurted out, “The pair of blue vases? At least eight hundred.”
"Alright, wrap them up. I’ll take them. How should I pay you?” The man nodded decisively and told to pack them up.
“Hold on, don’t rush things. I’ll pay 830 for that pair of vases,” another voice interjected, raising the bid.
“Ma Laosan, aren’t you breaking the rules?” The first man asked coldly.
“Ha! Rules? You haven’t even paid yet. It’s up to the young boss here to decide who he wants to sell to!”
“You’re talking to about rules? Song Laoban, antiques like these are becoming rarer and rarer. Especially a pair of wedding dowry vases like these—you’ll have no trouble selling them. Throw them in a box, stick them in your shop, and you know exactly how much they’ll fetch. Don’t play dumb with .”
Song Laoban slapped his thigh with a loud smack.
“Damn it! Ma Laoliu, what business is it of yours how much I sell them for? Mind your own damn business!”
Seeing the two of them about to co to blows, I quickly stepped in to diate.
“Please don’t argue! There are plenty of other items here to check out. Look at this pastel salt jar—though it’s missing a lid, the craftsmanship is excellent.”
Song Laoban glanced at the salt jar in my hands and shouted, “Young man, earlier you said you’d sell the vases to for eight hundred. Who do you plan to sell them to now?”
In my heart, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Why is it that the items nobody wanted at Panjiayuan are suddenly being fought over here?”
After a brief mont of thought, I looked at him and said, “Big brother, I did say earlier that I’d sell the pair of vases to you for eight hundred. So, for eight hundred, they’re yours. I can’t go back on my word.”
“Haha!”
“Good!” The man laughed heartily, giving his beer belly a satisfied pat. He shot a smug glance at Ma Laoliu, his face brimming with triumph.
The stout-bellied Song Laoban swept his eyes over the rest of the items on my stall.
"Alright, young man, you’re straightforward, so I’ll be straightforward too."
"I’ll take everything on your stall."
"All in one go!"
"Huh?" For a mont, I couldn’t register what he ant. Was this Beijing boss really that generous?
"That’s it, don’t bother selling any further. Pack up your stall and go with Song Laoban to his shop to collect your paynt," the middle-aged lady selling at the stall next to said, her voice filled with envy.
"Oh, oh, okay," I stamred, hurriedly packing up my stall.
Following the beer-bellied Song Laoban into his shop, I left the suitcase containing all my items behind. He assured he’d include the suitcase in the paynt.
In the end…
For the ceramics, coins, and even the suitcase, the big-bellied boss handed 4,700 yuan in cash! That was equivalent to a year’s savings for an ordinary worker back then!
Just like that, a big boss swept up my entire stall in one go, even buying my suitcase.
Walking out of Baoguo Temple with empty hands but a thick wad of hundred-yuan bills tucked inside my jacket, I couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear.
Standing on the Guang’ann Bridge, holding my newfound fortune, I shouted at the top of my lungs:
"The heavens do not disappoint those who persevere! I, Xiang Yunfeng, may not be good at studying, but I was born to do business! My uncle’s farmstay business is nothing compared to this! From now on, I’ll beco the greatest antique dealer in the entire country!”
Passersby glanced at with strange looks, but I didn’t care.
Now, fifteen or sixteen years have passed since that mont, but every ti I recall it, I can’t help but laugh. I feel like such a fool looking back.
That trip earned over 4,000 yuan!
With cash in my pocket, my heart was at ease. And naturally, the first thing I had to do was fill my stomach.
As a village boy with a big appetite, I devoured two bowls of hand-cut noodles and a side of cold vegetables. I ate until I was stuffed.
After the al, I used a toothpick to pick at my teeth while ntally planning, "Hmm, this route works well. After paying back my uncle, I’ll still have so left over. That should be enough for capital. Next ti, I won’t need to borrow from him anymore. If one trip earns 4,000, what about ten trips? Wouldn’t that be 40,000?”
That evening, I arrived at the West Railway Station. A middle-aged woman managed to talk into staying at a small inn, charging 60 yuan per night.
After I checked in, the landlady approached discreetly and whispered, "Young man, do you want to arrange a girl for you?"
Realizing what she ant, I quickly waved my hands and stamred, "No, no, I don’t want a girl."
The landlady persisted, pestering endlessly. In the end, I had no choice but to give her an extra 20 yuan just to get her to leave alone.
There’s an old saying that goes, “When you’re traveling, never flaunt your wealth.”
What struck deeply at the ti was how the landlady’s eyes seed glued to my thick wad of red bills.
That night, I was exhausted and quickly fell into a deep sleep. Worried about safety, I had placed the plastic bag containing my money under my pillow for safekeeping.
But when I woke up the next morning…
The money was gone.
The 4,000-plus yuan I had worked so hard to earn—gone.
"Where's my money?! Where is it?!" I was so frightened that my face turned pale. I frantically tore through the bed sheets and flipped over the pillow in desperation.
But there was nothing left, only a deflated black plastic bag.
Terrified, I hurried to find the landlady. I demanded that she check the surveillance caras and told her that my money had been stolen and I wanted to call the police.
The result? Predictable.
Not a single cent of the money was recovered.
To this day, I have a lingering distaste for those small inns near railway stations.
It’s been more than ten years since then, and I reckon that little inn probably doesn’t even exist anymore. Do I still hate it? Not really.
If that money hadn’t been stolen back then, I might have turned into a small-ti antique shop owner today. Perhaps I would’ve gotten married, had kids, and lived a stable, ordinary life. My entire trajectory might have been entirely different.
But no one gets a chance to live their life over again.
If the money hadn’t been stolen back then, the antique world wouldn’t even know my na. The nickna “God-Eye Feng” wouldn’t exist in the trade.
The police ca and made a brief record of the incident. They subtly hinted that the chances of recovering the money were slim to none.
I was left with nothing, utterly broken and devastated.
I didn’t dare return to Mohe. I didn’t dare go ho.
I knew exactly what would happen if I went back. I would be mocked and ridiculed—laughed at by my peers, belittled by my uncle's family.
I felt humiliated.
Even if I told the villagers I had earned 4,000 yuan, they wouldn’t believe .
Standing on the pedestrian bridge outside the West Railway Station, there was a fleeting mont when I just wanted to jump off, to end it all.
I thought about just dying.
I had no father, no mother, no one who cared about . I was just a wild child, unloved and unwanted. Might as well die and hope for a better start in the next life.
The mind of a teenager is immature, and thoughts like mine at that ti are dangerous.
I truly intended to jump off that bridge. Even if I wasn’t killed by the fall, I’d probably be run over by a passing truck.
My legs were already dangling over the edge.
And then, at that mont, soone patted on the back.
[--------------------------------------------]
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