Chapter Five: Sold for Ninety Thousand

Zhang Can was becoming increasingly calm, more than he could have imagined for himself, given the desperate situation of being shrouded in debt. In truth, his composure stemmed from a stable environment. Now that Wang Guohua was willing to raise the price to seventy thousand, it meant that what he held in his hands was worth at least that much. Even if he only sold it for seventy thousand, it would be enough to pay off most of the family’s and his own debts. As long as there were no outstanding loans, no high-interest debts, and his family could live in peace, it would be a blessing amid misfortune. What was hardship to him? He was still young—another few years of toil, earning tens of thousands, and he could return home to live quietly.

After some thought, Zhang Can glanced at the anxious Wang Guohua, smiled faintly, and said, “One hundred thousand.”

Wang Guohua’s face fell. He wiped the sweat from his brow and forced a smile. “Zhang, look… well, forget it. I won’t profit from you. Eighty thousand, that’s the highest I’ll go. Take it or leave it.”

Zhang Can chuckled. “Mr. Wang, you’ve shown sincerity. For that, I’ll meet you halfway. Ninety thousand, and not a penny less.”

Wang Guohua stared at Zhang Can for a while. Seeing that Zhang was unmoved, as steady as a mountain, he realized that Zhang truly would not budge. With a bitter smile and a sigh, he said, “Zhang, I’ve known you for years, but never knew you were so formidable. It's a pity my place is too small to afford you; otherwise, I’d really want you in my shop. Well, I’ll do this deal even if I lose money.”

Zhang Can smiled. “All right, Mr. Wang, the jade is yours.”

Ninety thousand—though only a quarter of the total money he’d been swindled out of, it was a lifeline in a snowstorm. Ninety thousand would pay back the fifty thousand high-interest loan his family owed, plus five thousand and interest, leaving thirty-five thousand. Thirty thousand would pay off his own debts here, and he’d still have five thousand left.

That five thousand would be his seed money for food, shelter, and starting anew. It was little, but it gave Zhang Can the reassurance he needed. It was nothing more than beginning again from scratch.

But what Zhang Can was more concerned about was the strange incident with his vision by the riverbank—when he saw black-and-white images, his eyes could see through objects! That was the key: the power to see through.

He carefully recalled the feeling he had during that moment: the wonder of seeing through, followed by weakness. He didn’t know what had triggered it, nor whether he could use it again. These were urgent questions he wanted to answer, but Wang Guohua’s place was certainly not the right setting for experimentation.

With ninety thousand in cash, Zhang Can first went to the post office to remit fifty-five thousand back home, then repaid the thirty thousand owed to friends, and finally returned to his rented room.

The room was empty; all his valuables had been sold. Sitting on the bed, Zhang Can suppressed his hatred and thought calmly. Lamenting at home did no good. He wouldn’t find He Fugui, and looking for Old Su would be useless—without evidence, it was only suspicion.

He could only quietly carry on as before. Revenge could wait ten years.

He thought again about the black-and-white vision, so he sat on the bed and tried again and again, but couldn’t recreate the phenomenon. He grew both puzzled and disappointed.

In this treacherous trade, where traps lurk everywhere, money and resources are secondary; the most important asset is one’s eye for value. Only keen eyes keep you from falling into traps and being deceived.

But even the most famed appraisers, even national-level experts, cannot guarantee perfect accuracy. Many masters have ruined themselves by making mistakes. Yet if one could see through objects, nothing could hide its true nature. Modern technology and optical devices offer some medical applications, but they are useless for jade, antiques, and the like. Take raw jadeite stones, for example—the instruments are of no use. Antiques, too, rely more on the eye, and instruments don’t help. Besides, you can’t lug heavy machines around town for treasure hunting.

Disappointed, Zhang Can covered his face and rubbed his eyes hard. Was that power to see through things just a fleeting blossom? In fact, the jade he sold for ninety thousand was only because of that vision, an unexpected fortune. That fraudster, He Fugui, certainly had no idea of its value; if he had, he would never have handed it over for free.

The jade skin was very peculiar; perhaps that strange vision was caused by it. Frustrated, Zhang Can tugged at his hair, then lay back on his bed, staring upward. Suddenly, the image before his eyes turned black and white.

It was happening again!

Zhang Can froze, then trembled with nervous excitement. The image before his eyes was just as it had been by the river—no color, only black and white. Most crucially, he could see through things!

He lived on the fourth floor; above him was a girl who worked at the mobile company, now changing into her work clothes. In the stark black-and-white vision, Zhang Can saw her as a skeleton walking back and forth, and in his mind, he sensed the molecular makeup of materials. Yet the strongest impression was what his eyes saw most directly: the layer of floor, steel, and concrete.

More tense, Zhang Can focused on everything in the room; he could see through them all. But the vision lasted less than a minute before dizziness set in, as if he would faint from anemia. His body trembled, the black-and-white image faded, color returned, and the see-through ability vanished.

Lying on the bed, Zhang Can gasped for breath, his body weak and limp. This time, because he paid close attention, he understood: the ability was his own, activated when his mind was highly focused, but it consumed tremendous energy and could not last long. This attempt lasted longer than the one by the river—about thirty seconds, compared to six or seven seconds last time.

After some thought and calming his heartbeat, he waited until his strength returned, then concentrated again, focusing on his eyes. Sure enough, the world before him became a see-through black and white once more, but this time it only lasted three or four seconds before his vision went black and he nearly fainted.

Overexertion!

Having figured out the cause, Zhang Can, though exhausted, was overjoyed.

In his line of work, what he needed most was sharp eyesight—the ability to see through things. Everyone wished for it, but knew it was only a dream. Now, he actually possessed such a power. Wasn’t it as if heaven had smiled upon him?

He had hated He Fugui after being cheated, but now his mood was much improved. He Fugui gave him a worthless piece of jade, never imagining it was worth ninety thousand, and even less that Zhang Can would gain a miraculous ability from it.

Because of this ability, weak as it was and awkward to use, Zhang Can suddenly felt grounded, as if everything was in his grasp.

Whether it was the aftereffect of using the vision or simply the exhaustion of these past days, Zhang Can soon drifted into sleep, not waking until noon the next day—roused not by rest but by hunger.

He got up, washed absent-mindedly, then went downstairs to a small eatery and ate three big bowls of wontons. With his stomach full, he habitually wandered through the antique market on the old street. This had been his routine every day, but today his mood was especially good. Though his savings were gone, he felt more at ease than ever.

The market was still bustling, stalls lined with all kinds of goods. Zhang Can made two rounds; there was nothing worthwhile. Nearly everything was old junk, ninety-nine percent fake, especially the antiques—just jars and bottles of little value. Of course, in the stall owners’ mouths, these were priceless treasures.

The scams usually targeted tourists, and the final price was only a few hundred yuan. The buyers knew they weren’t getting anything valuable, just a souvenir to remember their visit.

For veterans like Zhang Can, it was useless.

He didn’t even need his newfound vision; his own experience told him that there was nothing genuine. Many old hands in the trade had decades of experience—nothing escaped their scrutiny.

Unconsciously, Zhang Can found himself at the entrance of Old Stone Studio. Seeing those three characters, his heart throbbed painfully, and Old Su's face appeared in his mind—the mentor, half teacher, half friend, whom he trusted most, and who dealt him the harshest blow.

Should he go in?

Zhang Can hesitated, deciding not to enter. In such a short time, he wasn’t sure he could face Old Su calmly.

“Zhang… Can, Zhang, are you… are you all right…”

Old Su was checking items by the shelf. Turning around, he caught sight of Zhang Can just outside the door and, startled, called out.

Zhang Can suddenly relaxed inside and said coolly, “What could be wrong with me? Is that what you hoped, Old Su?”

Old Su looked embarrassed and quickly waved his hand. “No, no, Zhang, did you find the person who sold you the goods?”

Zhang Can turned his head to stare at him, until Old Su shifted his gaze nervously, then smiled faintly. “Where would I find them? If it were you, would you stay?”