noveltune Chapter 7: Real Skill
Chapter 7: Real Skill
Tieguai Li's studio is located on the back street of Panjiayuan. Turn into a narrow alley, and the address is on the basement level.
Cheng Xiaojin walked down the cement steps. At the corner of the stairs, there were several cardboard boxes piled up. Most of the wall plaster had peeled off, and an incandescent light bulb above his head was flickering.
He took out his phone and glanced at the number, then at the small note stuck on the door, which had three words written in ballpoint pen: Li Jixiu.
Cheng Xiaojin raised his hand and knocked on the door.
The voice of Tieguai Li came from inside, muffled.
"Who?"
"I am Cheng Xiaojin."
"The door isn't locked, push it open yourself."
As Cheng Xiaojin pushed open the door, a strong smell of rosin and glue hit him, making him sneeze.
"I'd say this place is like a chemistry lab; I could die of poisoning if I stayed here for another half hour."
"If you don't like the smell, then get out. I don't welcome gossipy people here."
Without even raising his head, Tieguai Li, wearing a pair of magnifying glasses, held an extremely fine brush in his hand, the tip of which was dipped in blue paint, and was touching up the cracks in the bowl.
The studio isn't big, maybe twenty square meters at most, but it's packed full.
A row of iron shelves against the wall is stacked with toolboxes of various sizes, files, carving knives, sandpaper, brushes of various sizes, and several cans of paint and mineral powder.
Opposite the iron frame was a large worktable, with an old felt covering the surface. On the felt sat a blue-and-white porcelain bowl, its body cracked in two, the broken edge coated with a layer of transparent glue.
Cheng Xiaojin leaned over for a look and almost popped his eyes out.
"Am I seeing things? When this bowl came in, I saw it was in two pieces. Is it already repaired?"
"Otherwise what? Do you think I, Li Tiezhu, have managed to get by all these years by playing the victim?"
Tieguai Li's brush tip moved across the crack in his hand, his hand so steady it was frightening. The crack in the bowl would be completely unnoticeable unless you looked closely.
The blue of the blue-and-white porcelain extends from the intact surface of the bowl to the broken part, and the repaired color blends seamlessly with the original tone.
"With your skills, repairing clocks is a waste of your talent. You would be the top craftsman in the Palace Museum's artifact restoration team."
"Don't flatter me. If you have something to say, say it. If not, get lost. I need to deliver this bowl to someone tomorrow."
"You go ahead with your work, I'm not in a hurry. I'll wait until you collect this money."
Cheng Xiaojin pulled up a folding chair and sat down, looking around the studio.
In the corner were several unfinished items: a porcelain shard that was half-painted, a bronze incense burner that was half-polished, and an inkstone that was half-carved.
A corkboard was nailed to the wall on the side of the workbench, with several photos and sticky notes pinned to it with thumbtacks.
Cheng Xiaojin looked closer and one photo caught his attention.
The photo shows a little girl of about seven or eight years old with pigtails, smiling and revealing two missing front teeth, with a cornfield in the background.
Next to the photo was a bank remittance receipt. He couldn't make out the recipient's name, but he could see the amount: two thousand yuan.
"Who's this little girl? She's quite pretty. Is she your illegitimate daughter?"
"Bullshit, stop asking these stupid questions."
Tieguai Li finished his last transaction, pushed the magnifying glass to his forehead, picked up the bowl, held it up to the light, and nodded in satisfaction.
"It's done. After the glazing is done tomorrow, it will look brand new."
"Whose bowl is this?"
"It was an old customer. His mother's dowry had been broken, and he brought it over crying. He was a grown man in his forties, but he cried like a child."
Tieguai Li carefully placed the bowl into a wooden box lined with sponge, took off his magnifying glass, and rubbed his eyes.
"Speak, what does Master Ma want from me? Don't beat around the bush."
Cheng Xiaojin recounted from beginning to end how he cornered Fatty Sun at his stall, demanded 10,000 yuan for the iron lump, and even pried open the lock on Fatty Sun's rented room to leave a mark.
After hearing this, Tieguai Li cursed.
"That fat bastard is bullying people again. I told you, he's got his eye on you."
Then, Tieguai Li took out a box of Hongmei cigarettes from the drawer, shook out a stick, put it in his mouth, and began to talk incessantly.
Three years ago, he asked me to repair a batch of goods.
"A batch of bronze Buddha statues, collected from the countryside of Shanxi, were so badly rusted that I was asked to clean and restore them. After I finished, he resold them for eight times the price, and paid me less than a fraction of the cost."
"You didn't ask him for it?"
"Why didn't you take it? I contacted him three times, and he said that's the rule in the industry, a fixed price, no bargaining, and he even threatened me that I wouldn't be able to get any jobs in Panjiayuan in the future."
Tieguai Li lit a cigarette, took a puff, and the smoke rings slowly drifted into the air.
"I'm a cripple, what can I do to him? I'll just have to accept it."
Cheng Xiaojin didn't reply, but reached into his cigarette case, took one out, and put it in his mouth without lighting it.
"If you want to keep your things and also want to get revenge, there's only one way."
"What road? Tell me quickly, I'm so worried!"
"Setting up a trap."
"Set up a trap? How?"
Cheng Xiaojin leaned forward, and the folding chair beneath him creaked.
Tieguai Li stubbed out his cigarette, rummaged through the metal cabinet under the workbench, pulled out a piece of cast iron, and slammed it onto the table with a loud clang.
"I'll make you a fake one."
"Fake? You can make it exactly like the real thing?"
"Otherwise, the rust, patina, weight, and feel all match. Let Fatty Sun take it to his people for appraisal, and I guarantee they won't be able to tell the difference."
Cheng Xiaojin stared at the piece of cast iron, his heart pounding with anxiety.
"What level of skill are you capable of? Don't let it get discovered as soon as you hand it over, or I'll be dead."
Tieguai Li scoffed and waved his five fingers in front of Cheng Xiaojin.
"Look at my hand. I've repaired rifle bolts and replaced parts for artillery shell fuses for the company on the border. When it comes to metalworking skills, you won't find another like me in Panjiayuan."
His hands were indeed different from ordinary people's; his knuckles were thick, his fingertips were covered with calluses, and there was a long old scar on the outside of his thumb, which was from being cut by shrapnel on the border years ago.
"Is that child on the wall your comrade's daughter?"
Tieguai Li followed his gaze and remained silent for two seconds.
"My former deputy squad leader took shrapnel for me during the last mission and never came back. He had no one left in his family except his only daughter, who was studying in their hometown. I send her some money every month."
Cheng Xiaojin simply said "oh" and didn't ask any more questions.
Tieguai Li picked up the piece of cast iron, weighed it in his hand, and tapped it on the table.
"However, there's something I need to figure out first."
"What is it? Ask away."
"How much is your real piece worth? Don't try to fool me, I want the truth."
Cheng Xiaojin thought for a moment, then leaned closer and lowered his voice.
"Master Ma said that if we find the right buyer, the price will be at least six figures."
Tieguai Li almost dropped the cast iron material in his hand onto the table.
"Six figures? A piece of junk? You're not being fooled by Mr. Ma, are you?"
"What nonsense! Master Ma said that thing is related to the iron chain of the Lock Dragon Well at Beixinqiao. It's a fragment that broke off back then."
Tieguai Li's eyes lit up, he forgot to smoke, and his lips moved as if he was plotting something.
"Are you serious? Isn't the Locked Dragon Well just a legend? Is there really something flowing out of it?"
"Why would I lie to you? Master Ma even showed me photos my dad took back then, and the rust on the chain was exactly the same as the one I bought."
Tieguai Li slammed the cast iron material onto the table, picked up his crutch and slammed it into the ground, making the file on the table jump.
"Alright, I'll take the job. We'll talk about the pay later. Let's deal with that fat bastard first, and settle the score from three years ago at the same time."
Cheng Xiaojin looked at him and suddenly realized that this usually listless, lame old soldier was quite different.
Tieguai Li held up the cast iron sample to the light, a look of intensity that Cheng Xiaojin had never seen on his face before.
"But I need to see what it actually looks like, feel it, and listen to the sound first. Where did you put that thing?"
"I didn't dare put it in the rental house, so I hid it at Master Ma's house."
"Okay, take me to Master Ma's place tomorrow. I'll touch it myself and deliver it to you within three days. I guarantee even you won't be able to tell the difference between the real and fake."
Cheng Xiaojin stood up and walked out, but turned back to look at the studio again at the door.
Tieguai Li had already bent down and was rummaging through the metal cabinet for tools: files, sandpaper, crucibles, one by one, on the table. He was humming an old song that Cheng Xiaojin had never heard before, the tune of which was as high and low as his walk.