I had thought that the notes left behind by my father would contain some clues.
But who would have known that the notes were entirely about one thing: the Su Hou Pearl.
Regarding the origin of this pearl, legend has it that the ruler of the State of Sui, Marquis Sui, while on an outing, saw a large injured snake in agony by the roadside. Marquis Sui felt compassion and ordered his men to treat and bandage the snake before releasing it into the grass.
After the large snake recovered, it brought a luminous pearl to Marquis Sui's residence, saying, "I am the son of the Dragon King, grateful for your life-saving grace, and have come to repay your kindness."
Later, this "Spirit Snake Pearl" came to be known as the Su Hou Pearl.
However, many people say that the Su Hou Pearl does not exist in the world.
Some also say that the Su Hou Pearl was buried with Qin Shi Huang, serving as a "candle substitute" in the tomb.
Which account is true remains a subject of much debate.
I never imagined that my father had been searching for such a thing all along.
But I was a little unclear as to why he was looking for the Su Hou Pearl.
In order to investigate what exactly my father had been busy with all these years, I followed the contents of his notebook and embarked on a journey to Guangling.
My home was bare. I had to go through a lot of trouble to scrape together the money for the train ticket to Guangling.
Everything of value that could be sold in my home had already been sold by my father. The only thing of some worth left was the stone lion at the entrance.
This stone lion was commissioned by my grandfather many years ago. I don't know how much it cost back then, but now I sold it for five hundred.
With the meager five hundred yuan I had, I arrived in Guangling.
In '99, there were many people dealing in antiques in Guangling. Especially in areas like Hongyuan, Tianning Temple, and Zhunti Temple, many good items had appeared.
As soon as I arrived in Guangling, I went to Hongyuan, intending to find a job there.
Although my education was not high, I believed that with my appraisal skills, finding work should not be difficult.
To my surprise, after visiting several antique shops, I was kicked out of all of them.
Take the first shop, for example. When I went there, the owner asked me if I understood antiques.
I patted my chest and said, "Yes."
Then the owner handed me a flower pot to examine. I took it, looked at it for a moment, and told him it was a fake.
The owner asked, "Why is it a fake?"
I said, "This flower pot looks old, but it's been artificially aged. If it were genuine, there would definitely be white frost on the bottom of the pot."
The owner asked why, and I told him, "This flower pot is meant for growing flowers, and you have to water it, right? Over the course of the year, water seeps into the soil, bringing out some of the alkaline substances from the soil. Over time, this forms white frost at the bottom."
"This flower pot you've shown me, apart from dirt, has no white frost on the bottom at all. It's definitely a fake."
As soon as I finished speaking, the owner told me to get lost.
I was dumbfounded at the time. My father taught me all this, how could it be wrong?
Later, unwilling to give up, I squatted not far from the entrance and observed, finally understanding.
All the flower pots in this antique shop were fakes, and the person making them was the shop owner himself.
My words had almost ruined his business, so naturally, he wouldn't let me work in his shop.
As for the subsequent shops, there's no need to even mention them.
Being told to get lost was considered good; some even wanted to teach me a lesson.
If I hadn't run fast enough, I might have lost my life there.
Just as I was at a loss, I came to an antique shop that sold Zisha teapots.
There was no recruitment notice posted at the shop entrance, and the reason I entered this shop was mainly that I was attracted by the shop's proprietress.
The proprietress looked about twenty-four or twenty-five years old, dressed in a plum blossom qipao, seated on a gilded chair, with one leg hooked on the armrest.
Her plain white high-heeled shoes dangled precariously at her toes, as if they might fall off at any moment.
Her jade-like legs, revealed through the seams of her qipao, were long and shapely, so tender they seemed to invite touch, making one yearn for them.
In her left hand, she held a book, but her mind was not on it. Her right hand gently toyed with a Zisha teapot on the tea table.
This woman was beautiful and full of charm. The moment I saw her, I felt like I had lost my soul.
When I walked in, she hadn't fully registered my presence until I gently greeted her, "Hello..."
The woman slowly looked up at me, her brow slightly furrowed.
Before she could speak, I preempted her by saying, "Excuse me, are you hiring? I understand antiques, and I can do anything. I don't care about salary or benefits, as long as I'm provided with food and lodging."
Hearing this, the woman's brow unfurrowed, and she let out a soft laugh.
I chuckled awkwardly and said, "Although you don't have a recruitment notice posted, I think your shop is very nice, and you yourself..."
I was about to say she was beautiful, but then I thought it might be inappropriate, so I said, "And you have good taste, so I think you need someone to help you manage the store."
The woman lowered her leg from the armrest and looked me up and down, asking, "You're not from Jinling?"
I nodded, "I'm from Jiangdong."
"You don't look very old?"
"I just turned eighteen this year."
The woman nodded slightly and said, "You say you understand antiques?"
"A little," I replied.
She casually handed me the Zisha teapot in her hand and asked, "Then take a look at this. Is it genuine or a fake?"
Having learned from previous experiences, I dared not speak carelessly. I took it and looked at it for a few moments before saying, "This teapot is indeed an old item, but as for its age, I really can't tell."
The woman smiled and asked, "How do you know it's an old item?"
"There's white frost inside this teapot, which clearly forms over time. And there's only one type of tea aroma in this pot... If I'm not mistaken, it should be Huoshan Yellow Bud tea."
Hearing my words, the woman seemed to become interested and asked, "How do you know it's specifically used for brewing Huoshan Yellow Bud tea?"
I said, "Old tea drinkers who often drink tea will only use one pot for one type of tea. This is to prevent the tea flavor from the Zisha clay from mixing with the tea aroma."
My father loved drinking tea, but he wasn't that particular, nor did he have the money to buy dedicated Zisha pots for brewing.
However, he taught me a lot about the knowledge of tea ceremony.
The woman smiled, looking at me, and said, "Eight hundred a month, and you live in the shop. What I eat, you eat. How about it?"
Upon hearing this, I was overjoyed, "Are you hiring me?"
The woman nodded.
The moment the woman nodded, the weight that had been hanging over my heart finally lifted.
"What's your name?" the woman asked me.
I said, "Xiang Fei."
The woman nodded, "My name is An Ying. You can call me Sister Ying from now on. I don't come to this shop often. Originally, there was an old master watching the shop, but recently he had family matters, so I've come to check things out. From now on, this place will be yours to manage."
I quickly said, "Alright, Sister Ying. Don't worry, I'll do a good job."