noveltune Chapter 19: Feng Shui Taboos
Chapter 19: Feng Shui Taboos
Cheng Xiaojin paused for a moment, but only for half a step before continuing to walk back and plopping back down in the chair.
He didn't turn around to look at Glasses King, but took the unlit Zhonghua cigarette from behind his ear and tapped it on the edge of the table.
"Mr. Wang is joking. I'm just a street vendor, an amateur, nothing special."
The man with glasses didn't say anything more, returned to his corner seat, and picked up his teacup.
Boss Lin's fingers started tapping the handrail again.
"Boss Cheng, I accept the goods, and I've inspected them. Let's talk about the price."
Cheng Xiaojin twirled the cigarette between his fingers but didn't light it.
Just as he was about to speak, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
He took it out and glanced at it; it was a text message from Tong Kexin's backup phone.
It wasn't a pre-arranged code; it was a new message.
"Two more people came in through the east alley; I've never seen them before."
Cheng Xiaojin flipped the phone over and placed it face down on his lap, tapping the back of the phone lightly with his fingertips, his expression unchanged.
"Boss Lin, there's something I'd like to clarify before we discuss the price."
Boss Lin gestured for him to proceed.
"Is today's deal between you and me, or is it handled by Mr. Sun?"
Fatty Sun sprang halfway up from his chair.
"Cheng Xiaojin, what do you mean? I'm sitting right here, isn't it inappropriate for you to ask that question?"
"Mr. Sun, don't rush, I'm just confirming." Cheng Xiaojin glanced at him, then looked at Boss Lin. "Because it relates to how I'll quote the price."
"If it goes through Mr. Sun, then Mr. Sun has to take a cut, which I understand. It's only natural for someone to be a middleman. But how much he takes has to be clearly stated in the open, not left ambiguous."
"If you talk to me directly, the price will be straightforward, with no middlemen involved."
Fatty Sun's face turned red, and the bracelet on his wrist rattled loudly.
"Cheng Xiaojin, don't try to sow discord here. I've been working with President Lin for years, who gives you the right to lecture me on etiquette?"
Boss Lin didn't look at Fatty Sun; his gaze fell on Cheng Xiaojin's face.
"Boss Cheng, just give me a quote, I'll handle everything else."
Upon hearing this, Fatty Sun closed his mouth, but the veins in his neck remained taut.
Cheng Xiaojin mentally ticked off Master Ma's judgment again; Boss Lin really didn't believe Fatty Sun anymore.
"Okay, then I'll just say it directly."
Cheng Xiaojin leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of the large rosewood table.
"Boss Lin, 300,000 is the market price for a piece of broken iron from the Lock Dragon Well. It's the kind that's in high demand but priceless, only one is produced every three years. Whoever comes across it buys it. But mine isn't a fragment."
Boss Lin paused for a moment.
"What do you mean?"
"A fragment is just a fragment, a scrap that broke off from a larger piece. It has no markings, no unique serial number, and to put it bluntly, it's just slag that fell off an iron chain."
Cheng Xiaojin drew a circle on the table with his finger.
"My piece is a standalone, single-piece talisman. It's not just part of the chain; it's one of fifteen items in one of the nine sets of talisman pillars."
"The bottom has an engraved mark indicating that it was made in the 22nd year of the Yongle reign, as well as an inscription of eight characters: 'Made by the craftsman of the Heavenly Craftsmen to Lock Water and Suppress Pulse'."
He paused deliberately at this point, letting his words linger in the room.
Zhou Banxian chimed in at the opportune moment.
"Boss Lin, you should know the difference between fragments and complete pieces, as someone in the business of talismans. Fragments are broken pieces; their talismanic energy has long since dissipated, and their value lies only in the material and age. Complete pieces, on the other hand, are intact, retaining their talismanic energy and complete inscriptions. In the Southeast Asian market for talismanic objects, they are powerful artifacts capable of suppressing an entire mansion."
Zhou Banxian picked up his teacup, took a sip, and continued speaking.
"Chinese merchants who deal in talismans all know a rule: a damaged item cannot ward off evil spirits at the gate, only a complete item can ward off evil spirits in the main hall. It's two different things to bring back a damaged item and price it at ten thousand dollars, versus bringing back a complete item and asking for a six- or seven-figure price."
Boss Lin slowly began to turn the silver ring with his fingers, the ouroboros spinning in circles under the light.
"Boss Cheng, I understand what you mean."
"How much do you think it's worth?"
Cheng Xiaojin didn't announce the number. Instead, he reached out, picked up the ironware from the velvet cloth, turned it over, and placed it face down on the table. He then pointed to the inscription that Tieguai Li had cleaned out.
"Look for yourself, it was made in the 22nd year of Yongle. It uses the engraving technique of slanted intaglio, a technique that was lost after the Xuande period."
"Look at these eight characters next to it: 'Crafted by Heavenly Craftsmen to Lock Water and Stabilize the Vein.' The characters are even smaller than the inscription; you can't see them without a magnifying glass."
"Something that's six hundred years old, buried underground for six hundred years, still has clear inscriptions and markings."
"This grade of Zhenhai Iron cannot be bought for 300,000."
Boss Lin looked down at the line of text, then looked up at Cheng Xiaojin.
How much do you want?
"One price, 800,000."
Fatty Sun almost couldn't catch his breath.
"Eight hundred thousand? You're just a street vendor, and you're talking about eight hundred thousand? Why don't you go rob a bank?"
Cheng Xiaojin waved his fingers near his ear, as if shooing away flies.
"Mr. Sun, I'm negotiating the price with Mr. Lin. Please sit down and rest for a while."
Fatty Sun's face turned pale, and half of what he was saying got stuck in his throat.
Boss Lin ignored Fatty Sun, his gaze fixed on the ironware, and he tapped the armrest three times with his finger.
"Eight hundred thousand is too high, Boss Cheng, five hundred thousand."
Cheng Xiaojin shook his head.
"Boss Lin, you could barely afford a fragment of the Dragon Locking Well for 500,000, but mine is a complete artifact with inscriptions, it's not even in the same league."
After a few seconds of silence, Boss Lin shifted his gaze from the ironware to Cheng Xiaojin's face.
"Boss Cheng, I've been doing business in Southeast Asia for twenty years, and no one has ever negotiated prices with me like this before."
"That's because I wasn't the one negotiating the price with you before." Cheng Xiaojin leaned back in his chair.
Boss Lin stared at him for about five or six seconds, and the curve of his lips changed slightly.
"Six hundred thousand."
Cheng Xiaojin remained silent.
"Seven hundred thousand."
Cheng Xiaojin remained silent, tapping her fingers on the armrest, her rhythm slightly off-beat from Boss Lin's.
The room was quiet for a full minute. The water in the teapot boiled dry, the bubbling stopped, and only the crackling sound of the bottom of the teapot remained in the corner of the stove.
Boss Lin placed the teacup on the rosewood table, and the bottom of the cup made a crisp sound.
"Okay, eight hundred thousand it is."
Cheng Xiaojin stood up and extended his right hand.
"make a deal."
Boss Lin shook hands with him briefly. His palm was dry and the grip wasn't strong, but his fingertips lingered on Cheng Xiaojin's hand for half a second longer.
"Sun Bingde, open the box." Boss Lin didn't even turn his head.
Fatty Sun sat in the chair, veins bulging from his neck to his temples, and a red mark left by his bracelet on his wrist.
"Mr. Lin, this..."
"Open."
Fatty Sun gritted his teeth and stood up. He walked to the corner of the main hall, bent down and dragged a dark brown leather suitcase from behind the sofa. He placed it on the rosewood table and snapped open the locks on both sides.
The box lid was opened, revealing neatly stacked bundles of 100-yuan bills, each bundle containing 10,000 yuan, sealed with bank paper.
Cheng Xiaojin stared at the box of money for two seconds, his heart skipped a beat, but his hands didn't tremble.
He took a black plastic bag out of his canvas bag, squatted down in front of the box and took them out one bundle at a time, checking the paper seal of each bundle before stacking them into the plastic bag.
Eighty bundles, not a single bundle more or less.
He stuffed the plastic bag into the canvas bag, zipped it up, stood up, and tightened the bag's straps around his shoulders twice.
Fatty Sun stood to the side, his eyes fixed on the bulging canvas bag, the veins on his neck bulging out one by one.
Cheng Xiaojin knew his original plan perfectly well: buy it for 10,000 yuan, sell it to Boss Lin for 300,000 yuan, pocketing 290,000 yuan in the middle—a business he'd been doing for seven or eight years.
Now he watched helplessly as Cheng Xiaojin took away 800,000 yuan, while he didn't get a single penny.
Cheng Xiaojin stood up, carrying his bag, and bowed to Boss Lin.
"Boss Lin, the goods are yours now. You've made your purchase."
He turned and walked towards the door, pausing as he passed Fatty Sun and glancing at him sideways.
He smiled.
The smile was small, and it lasted for less than half a second before disappearing.
But Fatty Sun's face changed three times in that half second, from purplish-red to ashen to pale.
The vermilion door of the main room creaked and swayed.