Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Inscribed Jade Wall of Floating Dragon Valley

As we left the tea stall, Yan Tongshou urged me to come by whenever I had time. I nodded happily, but Yue Qianling showed not a trace of attachment to the place. She grabbed my arm and, without looking back, pulled me into the throng of the bustling ghost market.

“Are you quite pleased with yourself today?” Yue Qianling suddenly asked, smiling.

I paused, a little bewildered, and shook my head. “Why would I be pleased?”

“You’ve found your circle, haven’t you? Didn’t you see the way Yan Six-Fingers looked at you?” There was a faint hint of jealousy in her tone. “Like you were really an emperor—he nearly knelt three times and kowtowed nine.”

“Yan Tongshou is a senior, after all. There’s no reason for him to tease me. Besides, An Qi almost said something last time but stopped halfway—I think she knows a lot about fate and physiognomy too.” I looked at Yue Qianling seriously. “Maybe I’m just lucky. Perhaps I really do have the destiny of an emperor.”

“Oh, so you’ve learned to climb the social ladder. A seasoned trickster meets a novice, and you can’t even tell when you’re being needled.” Yue Qianling pouted, looking at me with disdain.

“Don’t talk about me. You dragged me out here early in the morning—not just to stroll around the ghost market, surely. What’s really going on?” I smiled indifferently.

Yue Qianling glanced around, a little furtively. “My father says you’re quite the expert in antique appraisal. I happen to be writing a paper on identifying genuine jade artifacts. There’s every kind of thing in this market. Since you’re so capable, today I want to see just how sharp your skills are—and maybe you can teach me how to distinguish real jade from fake.”

“I knew nothing good could come of this. Didn’t you see earlier? Just a few words from me and the price doubled. Now you want to go around exposing people’s fakes?”

“Antiques are all about keen eyes. Real or fake, you lay them out and test your knowledge. That’s not exposing anyone.”

The road ahead was jam-packed, a cacophony of voices in the air. The crowd was boiling over. Yue Qianling seemed to love anything lively and dragged me into the throng.

We finally squeezed to the front, where a man in his forties had a stall—nothing displayed, just a piece of white jade on a velvet cloth. The object, about the size of a palm, was lustrous and smooth, oval-shaped, adorned with shallow relief and incised decorations. One side bore a low-relief coiled dragon, the other four auspicious cloud motifs, all exquisitely detailed and flowing.

“You studied archaeology—let’s test you. Do you know what kind of jade artifact this is?” I asked with a smile, quietly.

“That’s a grain-nail patterned bi-disc,” Yue Qianling answered without hesitation.

“Not bad. And what era is it from?” I pressed, still curious.

“This bi-disc usually has a brownish patina, incised dragon motif, rugged carving, strong lines—the style is Han dynasty, specifically Eastern Han. But the dragon motif is a bit off for the Han, and the craftsmanship is far more advanced. The Song dynasty valued bi-discs and followed Han traditions, producing many imitations. This should be a Song-dynasty piece imitating the Han.”

I nodded in approval, surprised by how solid Yue Qianling’s fundamentals were despite her usual bravado.

“This young lady is clearly an insider. She immediately recognized that this is a Song imitation of a Han bi-disc. Good eye!” The stall owner, having overheard her, looked up, impressed. “Many people say it’s Han, but unless you’re an expert, you wouldn’t know it’s Song. An amateur would be easily fooled.”

There are usually two kinds of people wandering the ghost market: true experts hunting for treasures, and those who know nothing, hoping to get lucky. The latter far outnumber the former.

Regardless, it was rare to see a grain-nail patterned bi-disc in such perfect condition at a ghost market. Whether Han or Song, if genuine, it was worth a fortune.

“You’re an expert, miss—come, hold it and have a look.” The vendor was generous, carefully handing the bi-disc to Yue Qianling. “Laymen look for excitement, professionals look for details. Please, see if it’s genuine.”

Though she’d seen many jades in her studies, Yue Qianling had never encountered such a flawless bi-disc before. She was thrilled as she examined it.

The grain-nail bi-disc was striking—about the size of a large biscuit, slightly smaller than a flatbread, with a hollow center. The surface was covered with grain-like studs and bore a faint trace of cinnabar, which, the vendor claimed, was from being unearthed.

Anyone with some archaeological knowledge knows: if the bottom of a tomb is lined with cinnabar, the burial must be of high rank, and the grave goods are likely to be treasures. So the trace of cinnabar on this bi-disc was proof it was a burial object from a grand tomb. The vendor assured everyone he wasn’t a tomb robber—the piece had come through other channels.

The saying “good goods come from the ghost market” was clearly true today.

Yue Qianling, relying on what she’d learned, examined the piece repeatedly and grew fonder of it with each look. From any angle, it appeared to be the real thing.

She was reluctant to put it down, but seeing my silence, handed it to me uncertainly.

“Check it for me. Is it real?”

I shook my head, laughing nervously. “Does it matter? You’re not buying it anyway. Better give it back before you break it and have to pay.”

“So you can’t look if you’re not buying?” Yue Qianling shot me a skeptical look. “Good things are meant to be appreciated.”

“She’s right. Whether you buy or not, just give your opinion.” The stall owner was straightforward, smiling amicably.

The crowd around the stall grew. Such a rare bi-disc was seldom seen; several people praised its condition. I quickly handed it to an elderly man wearing glasses, around sixty years old.

“The patina is thick, the luminescence strong, the incised and relief surfaces well blended yet beautiful.” The old man adjusted his glasses, delighted. “A fine piece, a fine piece indeed.”

Yue Qianling looked up, then smiled in surprise. “Professor Jiang! You come to the ghost market too?”

The old man squinted, finally recognizing her. He nodded and smiled. “Qianling, ah, I come every week—just a habit. After a lifetime in archaeology, I love handling these things. Are you here alone?”

“Oh, no, I came with a friend.” Yue Qianling pointed to me.

“So you’re here with your boyfriend. Clever girl, cultivating common interests—ha ha.” The old man nodded at me kindly.

Yue Qianling blushed, biting her lip in embarrassment. “Professor Jiang, you misunderstand. He’s not my boyfriend—just a friend.”

“Oh! A friend, a friend.” The old man smiled knowingly, leaning closer to me. “Keep coming—before long, you’ll be her boyfriend. Young man, keep at it! The revolution is not yet complete; comrades must keep striving.”

“Really, you’re mistaken. I’m not her boyfriend…” I felt awkward and tried to change the subject. “Hello, my name is Qin Yanhui.”

“This is Professor Jiang Luhua, director of our Archaeological Research Institute,” Yue Qianling introduced, lips pursed in a smile.

The crowd, upon hearing the director himself say the bi-disc was genuine, buzzed with excitement and admiration.

“Professor Jiang, there’s cinnabar on this piece—could you take another look?” someone in the crowd asked curiously.

“Patina gives color, color gives luster, luster gives spirit, and spirit gives soul. The patina of ancient jade gathers the essence of nature, is aged by time, and thus arises naturally, its light and vitality radiating with unique charm. Genuine jade may lack overt patina, but cannot lack the soul of light, spirit, and vitality. Modern craftsmen may imitate form, material, and carving, but seldom the patina; if they can, they cannot unite light, spirit, and vitality. In jade authentication, recognizing form, material, and carving is the realm of a beginner; knowing patina makes one an expert; fully grasping light, spirit, and vitality makes a master.” Professor Jiang spoke with hands clasped behind his back, eloquent and authoritative.

A true professor—his words were rich with reference and allusion, elegant and profound, though a bit obscure. Still, I found myself agreeing with him.

“As for the jade itself, it hardly needs examining. Eyesight fades with age, but the craftsmanship speaks for itself. The presence of cinnabar is less important; the piece is a treasure in its own right, and the cinnabar only adds to its value.”

“Sir, can you estimate its value? You’re an authority—if the price is fair, I’ll buy it,” someone asked eagerly.

“A bi-disc’s value lies in its ancient charm and vitality, but it’s difficult to appraise. I really can’t say,” Professor Jiang replied, troubled.

“Just give us a rough estimate. With your experience, you won’t mislead anyone,” the questioner pressed.

“Please, tell us. It’s here to be appraised—price only matters if someone’s willing to pay. Even if I ask for the moon, someone still has to buy it. If it’s fair, I’ll make an offer,” the stall owner said amiably.

Professor Jiang weighed the piece silently for a long moment, took a deep breath, and said, “If I must give a price, in my experience… around fifty thousand.”

The crowd gasped. In the 1980s, a worker’s monthly wage was only fifty or sixty yuan. Such a small jade bi-disc fetching fifty thousand was equivalent to a worker saving every penny for a hundred years.

Yue Qianling suddenly noticed I was distracted, glancing around.

“What are you looking at?”

“Looking for something to eat.” I rubbed my stomach, grinning.

“Were you starved in a previous life? Why do you think only about food all day?” Yue Qianling scolded.

“You dragged me out in the middle of the night. I’ve been standing for ages—I’m so hungry I’m dizzy,” I complained with a wry smile.

“Aren’t you supposed to be an expert? Go check if the bi-disc is real,” she said, giving me a sideways look and suddenly grinning. “If you’re right, I’ll treat you to something delicious after we finish here.”

“What’s the point of me checking?” I spread my hands helplessly. “Your professor already said it’s real—how could it be fake?”

Professor Jiang, hearing us whispering, smiled and handed the bi-disc to me. “Young man, have a look—feel the weight of history. This is something over a thousand years old. Qianling just wants to nurture your appreciation for culture.”

He clearly didn’t understand what Yue Qianling wanted from me. Left with no choice, I took the bi-disc, pretending to examine it, ran my hands over it once, then quickly returned it to the vendor, as if afraid I might break it and be unable to pay for the damage.