I stumbled upon a little windfall.

Luo Yu and Brother Chan first took a car to Limu, then switched to a small van that wound its way into the mountains, hurrying straight to Huang Yang’ao.

Once in the village, they went door to door asking several families if anyone had found something. Brother Chan was a master at reading people, and Luo Yu was sweet-tongued; whenever he encountered something out of the ordinary, he’d make a fuss in a way that was a little silly, but for the honest, forthright villagers, his antics carried a kind of endearing humor. Add to that his good looks, and it was easy for him to win their favor. Sure enough, a young wife holding a child—fiery and spirited in appearance—took it upon herself, for reasons unknown, to mysteriously reveal a neighbor’s secret: “A few days ago, there were others just like you who came and went to that house. Stayed inside a long time before coming out… When we ask, they won’t say, and these past few days, they’ve been sneaking in and out, scared to even bump into us.” She curled her lip. “Guess they’re afraid we’ll get jealous.” Brother Chan agreed, “Everyone in the village knows each other. It’s impossible to keep secrets.” The young wife nodded, “Exactly. They picked it up themselves; it’s not like we’ll demand a share. Yet they act like they’re guarding against thieves—even their dog doesn’t go watch the corn anymore.”

Eager to see the item, Luo Yu and Brother Chan asked a few more questions, then took their leave and made their way to the family in question.

At the courtyard gate, Brother Chan called out, “Anybody home?” At once, the yellow dog lying in the yard leaped up, bracing its forelegs and lowering its body, ready to attack as it barked furiously at them.

Brother Chan ignored it, strolling inside with a calm, easy voice, “Someone’s stealing your stuff!” The dog, sensing his lack of fear, quieted somewhat and retreated into the main house, darting back and forth, whining anxiously—upset that its owner hadn’t come out to handle things. Brother Chan called again, “If you don’t come out, your TV’s going to be stolen~!” Luo Yu, curious about the odd interplay between Brother Chan and the dog, followed him in. The dog, seeing Luo Yu staring, barked even louder. Luo Yu was a bit embarrassed—did he look that easy to bully, or was his attitude wrong?

At that moment, the side room door creaked open, and an elderly woman emerged, trembling, leaning on her cane. The yellow dog immediately found its anchor, running to circle and nuzzle her for attention. She nudged it away with her cane and asked, “Are you looking for Jinbiao?” Brother Chan replied, “We heard you have something for sale and came to take a look.” The old woman nodded, “Wait in the main room. He’s out in the fields.” Brother Chan asked, “How long before he’s back?” She seemed not to hear, instead telling the dog, “Erhu, go call Jinbiao back, someone’s here.” The dog, delighted by her words, ran circles around her. She thwacked its backside with her cane. “Go on, hurry!” The dog whimpered and shot out the gate.

Luo Yu watched, wide-eyed—what a remarkable dog. Brother Chan, proud, said, “Never seen that before, have you? Country dogs are clever.” The old woman glanced at them, “Thirsty? Want some water?” Brother Chan declined, “No need, ma’am, we brought our own. Not thirsty right now.” The old woman paid them no further mind, taking up a half-finished knitted slipper and working on it.

Noting her limp and taciturn manner, Luo Yu didn’t dare speak. Brother Chan, unconcerned, struck up conversation, “Are you making those for yourself or to sell?” Without expression, she answered, “For myself. I’m old, my eyes are bad, my stitching’s not good enough to sell.” Brother Chan flattered her, “Your handiwork is the kind that lasts. City slippers glued together fall apart in two days, but yours would be snapped up in town.” The old woman seemed pleased, working harder at her slipper as she asked, “You’re from the county? Lots of people have come by lately, wanting what we found, but Jinbiao hasn’t sold it.”

Brother Chan thought, Maybe they didn’t want it, but he said, “You’re lucky to have such fortune.” The old woman smiled at last. Brother Chan seized the moment to ask about the item, but she refused to say—perhaps warned by her family not to tell, lest someone sneak in while she was distracted. With nothing more to glean, Brother Chan kept up idle chatter.

Soon, the man of the house returned—a solid, honest-looking farmer in his forties, tall and sturdy. The dog was at his heels, sniffing around before coming up to Luo Yu to investigate his pant leg and toes. Luo Yu, fond of the dog, tried to pet it, but it dodged away.

Brother Chan explained their intentions, and the man, Fu Jinbiao, as if expecting this, said nothing but entered the left-hand room. After a while, he opened the door from the right, beckoning them in—clearly taking precautions, as they had no idea where he’d brought the item from. On the table lay a cloth bundle. Fu Jinbiao shut the door, unwrapped it, and revealed a palm-sized bronze censer.

Brother Chan was immediately disappointed. Though the patina was fine and the carvings intricate, it was spotless—not a hint of rust. Who would believe it was ancient? He picked it up without much hope—this wasn’t even a censer but an alchemical furnace, and inside were a few pills that still gave off a medicinal scent. Brother Chan was exasperated: the forgery was sloppy. The patterns mimicked the Wei and Jin dynasties, but who’d ever seen such a tiny furnace from that era? And those pills—after a thousand years, how could they remain whole, not dust? Each one the size of a soybean. Was the maker mocking their intelligence?

Scowling, Brother Chan had little to say. He thought, At best, it might fool a novice, or be sold as a curiosity. Fu Jinbiao, watching their reactions, grew anxious. “I dug this out of that cave myself—it’s real, I swear.” Since the region wasn’t known for antiquities, and there was no prospect for long-term dealings, Brother Chan was blunt. “Doesn’t look it.” Fu Jinbiao protested, “We’re farmers, not craftsmen. We couldn’t make something like this to trick you.” Brother Chan shook his head, “Maybe someone buried it to fake age and you just happened to dig it up. Newly unearthed antiques always have some rust—wouldn’t you agree?” Fu Jinbiao replied, “It had a stand when I found it—someone already bought that. The furnace came out with the stand. How could one be real and the other fake?” Brother Chan smiled, “If it’s real, it can’t be faked; if fake, it can’t be real. They only bought the stand, not this furnace, did they?”

Fu Jinbiao was nearly in despair. At first, he’d thought he’d found a priceless treasure and had guarded it zealously. But everyone who’d seen it over the past few days had said the same thing, and even he was starting to doubt. Brother Chan, seeing this, put the furnace down with a sigh. “I won’t haggle. It looks nice, but thirty yuan is the best I can do.”

Seeing Brother Chan put down the furnace, Luo Yu picked it up. The moment his fingers touched the metal, he felt a faint, cool sensation seep into his skin—just as when he’d held the jade pendant before, though not as strong. Still, it was unmistakable! Excitement surged through him as he caressed the furnace, heart pounding.

Fu Jinbiao, unwilling to sell, bargained with Brother Chan. Someone had once offered fifty, and he’d refused—how could the price drop now? Brother Chan patiently explained, “If I buy for thirty, it’s so new I can’t even trick anyone. I’d only pass it on to a shopkeeper, who’d sell it as a decorative piece to someone who doesn’t care. Who would pay a high price for a new bronze item? Maybe a girl who likes pretty things, for a hundred or so at best. After changing hands a couple times, I need to make my travel costs back. If you take it to town, you’d spend more on travel than you’d get for it. It’s not nice to hear, but isn’t that the truth?”

Fu Jinbiao hesitated. He didn’t want to sell, but what if Brother Chan was right and it was just a plant left by someone else? Fewer and fewer buyers were coming—would another opportunity arise? Still, he felt it might be an antique—after all, the stand had sold for thirty or fifty. Reluctantly, he said, “A hundred, round number, it’s yours.” Brother Chan shook his head, “At that price, I’ll be stuck with it. That’s what it’d fetch in the shop.” Seeing Brother Chan about to walk, Fu Jinbiao wavered, thinking he might as well keep it at home—he didn’t need the thirty yuan, and maybe someone might offer more later.

Just as both sides were growing disappointed, Luo Yu spoke up, “Brother Chan, you’re not buying?” Brother Chan shrugged, “You know my situation; I can’t.” Luo Yu said, “Well, then I’ll buy it. I think it looks nice—would make a good ornament for my desk.”

Fu Jinbiao’s eyes lit up, “Not a hundred, I won’t sell for less.” Luo Yu replied, “All right, a hundred it is.” Brother Chan chided, “You spendthrift—do you really need a furnace at home?” Fu Jinbiao, displeased by that, insisted, “He likes it! Look at the decoration—it’s got spirit.” Luo Yu agreed, “Yes, that’s what I liked—it’s unique.”

With the deal struck, everything else was easy. Fu Jinbiao happily took the money, brought out water for them, and even the old woman chatted warmly, asking where they were staying and mentioning other families who might have found things.

Since they came all this way, they didn’t want to return empty-handed. Luo Yu and Brother Chan made another circuit of the village. They found nothing else from the cave, but did buy a pair of white porcelain crescent-shaped sewing boxes from the Qianlong era, and a single silver-wrapped blue-and-white porcelain box. The previous groups hadn’t taken these, so it was a stroke of luck—the trip wasn’t wasted, and Brother Chan had made back his investment for the day. Seeing it was growing late, and figuring nothing better would turn up, Brother Chan called it a day, and they headed back.

As they left the village, they ran into the man who had sold the jade pendant in Qingning, who was now leading another man, clearly not a local, towards the village. Luo Yu wondered if the jade pendant had been recognized, and if this man, like himself, had been drawn by its scent. He couldn’t help but study the newcomer: about twenty-three or twenty-four, with an athletic build—at least 1.88 meters tall. Luo Yu felt a twinge of jealousy: not only was the man well-built, but his face was strikingly handsome, with a cold, aloof air that made him seem almost untouchable. Sensing Luo Yu’s gaze, the man’s star-like eyes swept over him, and their eyes met. Under that gaze, Luo Yu felt immense pressure—was it just his imagination? When the stranger got a good look at him, his eyes narrowed slightly, wolf-like, calm yet threatening.

Feeling instinctively that this was someone not to antagonize, Luo Yu hurriedly looked away, pretending not to notice as they passed.

Back on the main road, the two caught the last van to Limu and, from there, made the final bus to the city, returning to Qingning late that night.

Best Friend Cultivation Chronicle 3 – full text complete!