The public auction was bustling today, filled with many Burmese people. Since yesterday's visible jade was completely sold out, today's offerings were all closed stones, with most being raw materials from mines and a significant portion from Burmese jade shops.
People, either alone or in small groups, guarded piles of raw jade of varying sizes, much like a rural market fair.
This time, I was helping Brother Bao clear out inventory, which required more caution than gambling on my own, demanding a hundredfold attentiveness.
After Brother Bao gave me some instructions, he and Da Kui left the auction. It was just Lan Ya and me here.
Lan Ya, who understood nothing, was responsible for writing the bids for me.
We wandered around, our steps stopping again at a pile of black sand-skin jade. Indeed, this pile of stones was incredibly alluring, their skin polished and gleaming. The largest weighed over a hundred catties, while the smallest were still seven or eight catties.
Black sand-skin jade had yielded high-quality pieces for me before, and I held a special affection for it.
This was a stall belonging to a small vendor, manned by two old Burmese men, one old and one young.
I watched as several people rummaged through the piles of stones, as if all the good pieces were hidden within.
I spotted a piece weighing about twenty to thirty catties. It was larger at one end and smaller at the other, round and resembling a large steamed bun.
There was no need to examine this stone further; its texture was very old. They had pushed it aside because its shape was not particularly appealing.
I moved this stone over and touched it with my hand. The sand grains were very hard, pricking my fingers slightly. Upon closer inspection, there were quite a few 'song hua' (flower patterns indicating potential jade), but the heavy black skin made them barely visible without careful examination.
This stone could be gambled on for color and texture. Black sand-skin jade was prone to alteration, and if other colors appeared, it would be ideal for carving decorative pieces.
This shape, pointed at the top and rounded at the bottom, presented a challenge for processing. Regardless of the outcome, it would require considerable material to shape.
This was also the reason for the lack of interest from others.
I asked Lan Ya to write the bid. The reserve price for this stone was three thousand US dollars, but I had her bid fifteen thousand. If we won it, with taxes, it would be just over twenty thousand.
Lan Ya said nothing and wrote as I instructed.
In reality, this shape wasn't entirely disadvantageous; if utilized properly, it wouldn't be wasteful.
Below one-third of the stone could be used for bracelets and pendants, while the upper two-thirds could be made into decorative carvings, and the price might not be low.
It just gave the impression of not being able to make the most of the material.
At this moment, an old Burmese man with a shifty look approached. He saw us examining the stone and crouched down to scrutinize it.
I suspected he was the owner and likely to bid against us, artificially driving up the price.
As expected, he pulled a bid form from his pocket, quickly filled in a number, and then hurried over to deposit it into the bidding box.
Damn it, people like this really exist. They see which stone you bid on and then maliciously bid to inflate the price.
I told Lan Ya, "Write another bid for twenty-one thousand US dollars. If he bids again, we'll give up."
Lan Ya, with her back to us, wrote a set of numbers, attached the original stone's serial number, and submitted it.
I saw a peculiar smile on the old Burmese man's face. I ignored him and continued to pick through the stones in the pile.
People favored gambling on black sand-skin jade. Although these raw stones were prone to failure, when they produced results, they were exquisite. The risk was high, but so was the opportunity.
It was similar to buying lottery tickets today. For two yuan, one might bet a maximum of a thousand yuan, but betting on Powerball could yield millions or even tens of millions, offering the chance of instant wealth. That's why lottery outlets were often crowded.
Becoming rich was everyone's dream.
However, some said the odds of winning were lower than being struck by lightning; you saw people buying, but never anyone winning.
Compared to that, gambling on raw jade actually offered a higher chance of winning.
I saw a man from the mainland squatting by a stone, examining it for a long time, hesitating whether to bid. He shined his light on it from all angles, then finally shook his head and moved on to look at others.
I went over to examine this stone. It was larger than the previous one, weighing forty to fifty catties, shaped like a large potato, a product of years of riverbed transport.
Black sand-skin jade was the stone at the bottom of riverbeds, generally large in size. Due to long periods of burial, its skin was black or dark gray.
Some had spots; generally, the appearance varied depending on the mining area.
What we saw now was all black.
Because black sand-skin jade easily yielded high-quality jade, counterfeiters liked to tamper with black sand-skin raw jade.
This stone felt smooth to the touch, lacking obvious grit. The skin was oily and shiny, as if coated with a layer of wax, giving it a slightly moist feel.
This was a typical Mogok black sand-skin jade, with 'mang dai' (band of color) and 'song hua'. I couldn't see any signs of 'fen' (powder-like residue) or cracks. I couldn't figure out why that person had hesitated for so long.
I checked the price and immediately understood. The reserve price for this stone alone was fifteen thousand, and for a piece with such obvious characteristics, the final price was likely to be at least fifty thousand US dollars. With taxes, it would be seventy thousand, close to six hundred thousand renminbi.
That's almost twenty-one thousand per kilogram.
It was true that there were good pieces at the public auction, but such large stakes were enough to make people hesitate.
I asked Lan Ya to first write a bid of thirty-five thousand to test the waters.
The main gamble for this stone was color. Areas with 'snowflakes' were prone to high color, and exceptional pieces were possible, but it still depended on the texture and the presence of impurities. If the texture was poor or if there were impurities, it would still be a loss.
The prices had already skyrocketed; it was either extreme wealth or utter destitution.
After all, five to six hundred thousand was a substantial sum at that time.
Just as bidding commenced, for the previous stone, we bid twenty-one thousand, the old Burmese man bid eighteen thousand, and we won it. For this stone, we bid thirty-five thousand, and the old Burmese man directly bid forty-eight thousand. Fortunately, I had a backup plan and had Lan Ya submit a bid of fifty-one thousand, which we also secured.
This bastard was definitely here to cause trouble. It seemed I needed to teach him a lesson, or he'd think we were fools.
I didn't leave; I continued to pick through the stones. After selecting them, I had Lan Ya write out the bids, intentionally letting him glimpse our offers.
I looked at three stones in a row, wrote down relatively high prices for each, and then went to submit the bids.
I ignored him and continued to pick stones. I selected about ten more, quietly telling Lan Ya the prices. Lan Ya wrote them down swiftly, keeping the old Burmese man constantly occupied.
He followed us on almost every stone, clearly intending to corner me.
When the bidding opened, we had submitted bids for eighteen to nineteen stones this time. Except for six stones where the old Burmese man didn't follow, he intercepted thirteen to fourteen. We ignored him and I told Lan Ya to go to the registration desk to collect the bids.
This scoundrel would definitely not actually purchase the stones; he would only be able to forfeit them.
However, forfeiting so many stones would result in a penalty from the organizing committee.
After collecting the bids, I asked Lan Ya how much money we had left. She said around three hundred thousand US dollars. I told her we couldn't look at any more large stones and led her to check out the Mu Na mining area.
Since Brother Qing gave up his shares in the large stones, it meant we had personally paid over a million US dollars. This made our available funds for clearing inventory somewhat tight.
We went on to pick up some Mu Na stones. These were kilogram stones; ten thousand US dollars could buy a pile of them.
I picked out a few decent ones, then bought them all together.