Chapter 5, Qin Dynasty Band

There are two people around me, and I feel it is necessary to give Baozi a warning. I pulled her to the edge of the pool, pretended to help her wash vegetables, and said, "Those two guys seem a bit out of touch." I also gently told her, "They are not from the same era as us." Baozi replied, "That tall guy seems to be only a few years older than you, and the fat one is at most in his 40s."

Jing Ke has found his greatest love—a worn-out semiconductor radio. This simple-minded fool has always believed that the sounds coming from it were produced by little people trapped inside, and he spent the entire afternoon trying to communicate with them

Let me put it this way: a Ming Dynasty vase can sell for 15 million pounds at a Christie's auction in the UK, not to mention the behind-the-scenes operations; in Hong Kong, a Qianlong imperial dagger can fetch 40 million Hong Kong dollars, regardless of whether Qianlong himself ever saw this dagger; a gilded sword used by Napoleon is equivalent to over 50 million yuan

I interjected, saying: "If it is the dagger that Jing Ke used to assassinate the King of Qin..."

After Lao Pan left, I stared blankly at Jing Ke's dagger, with only one thought in my mind: if this were replaced with a coin, I wonder how many times it could kill me...

It was only after 2000 that he returned to his original profession, starting to engage in collecting and assisting others in appraising antiques. His monthly income was unstable, but he managed to maintain a modest standard of living. He served as my deputy manager merely in name, receiving no salary, but earning a commission of 2% from the appraised items.

My most embarrassing moment was when Qin Shi Huang surprisingly spoke in a very authentic Taiwanese accent, saying: "Alright, you are so naggy."

Old Pan handed me a "Yuxi". I placed the knife on the coffee table, took it, and then leaned in to light it. Before I could respond, Old Pan's eyes were already fixed on that knife—a sword from the Warring States period naturally captivates someone with a profound background in archaeology. He casually picked up the knife, then hunched over as if he had been punched, removing his glasses with one hand as if he wanted to peer into the blade.

After I cleaned Jing Ke's dagger, I placed it in the toolbox; the most dangerous place is the safest.

At noon, they only had 20 minutes for lunch break. Usually, I would close the door and go find her to grab a bite on the street, but today I asked her to bring back a pound of buns. When she hurried back, Qin Shi Huang was engrossed in watching "Meteor Garden." The buns nodded at him as a greeting and then quickly found a stool to sit down and watch, telling her to eat. She said she had already eaten and needed to watch some TV before heading back. Just as the show was airing a scene with Dao Ming Si, Hua Ze Lei, and Shan Cai being all lovey-dovey, an advertisement interrupted. The buns stood up and said to Qin Shi Huang: "Fatty, when I come back this afternoon, you must tell me the result"

It seems that Old Pan was ultimately deceived by me. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he smiled self-deprecatingly and said, "Perhaps I am being overly sensitive; how could you possibly have something from the Warring States period? Although the style and texture are very similar to those on mhetushu.com, there is not a trace of oxidation. I must have misjudged it."

After the meal was prepared, the bun asked Qin Shi Huang at the dining table, "What is your esteemed surname, Fat Brother?" After I explained what it meant, Qin Shi Huang cheerfully replied, "I am called Ying Zheng." When the bun's eyes turned to Jing Er Sha, he had a sudden inspiration and quickly said, "I am called Jing Ke."

I have placed the clothes of the two of them at the very bottom of the cabinet, and after a year, I must ensure that they take every single piece with them. To be honest, my greatest concern about exchanging them for money is the fear of attracting trouble. As far as I know, the black market for antique trading internationally is not much different from that of drug and arms trafficking. If I were to sell a Warring States sword, it would be difficult to avoid being haunted by vengeful spirits. Relying solely on this brick in my hand, the odds are certainly not in my favor. Of course, I must say, "I tend to be verbose," that I truly do not wish for China's treasures to flow abroad, and I suggest that everyone remember this point.

I scratched my head and said: "Those who play rock music have never really received much support, and it's been so stimulating that my mind isn't functioning well."

After a moment of surprise, Baozi burst into laughter: "That's really creative. What is the name of your band?"

Thus, she is able to sincerely accept my friends. Today, she brought a large basket of vegetables. She washed a cucumber, broke it in half, handed one half to Qin Shi Huang, and chewed on the other half while saying: "What happened in the end? Did the class not do anything to the fir vegetables?"

After I said this, the baozi immediately understood. I didn't dare to tell her that these two people would be staying here for a year.

I said: "We are just joking around, so why don't you give me a quote"

In fact, Lao Pan is quite remarkable. He graduated from China University of Geosciences in either the second or third batch, majoring in archaeology. University students of that era were truly the pride of the heavens, each possessing exceptional skills, and Lao Pan was among the best. Had he continued in his field, we would surely have seen him on television today, salvaging the "Nanhai No. 1" or similar projects. Unfortunately, Lao Pan could not resist the temptation of the 1990s tide of entrepreneurship. He initially thought that with his skills, he could navigate the business world as freely as a crab, but after suffering several losses, he became as withdrawn as a turtle. In my view, his financial losses were entirely self-inflicted: he abandoned his profession and followed two individuals from Fujian to trade watches.

What I fear the most now is that one day Ying the Fat and Jing the Fool suddenly come to their senses, realizing that they have been played by the King of Hell. I wonder if they will take it out on me first, especially after Qin Shi Huang finds out that I have been secretly calling him Ying the Fat behind his back

Qin Shi Huang understood the uses of the telephone and automobile after watching television for an entire afternoon. Later, I explained to him what television dramas were. He was astonished and asked me why people watch them knowing they are all fake. I could only say that it is similar to how he watches the beauties of the six states dance for entertainment.

I pulled Jing Ke, who has been researching glass next door, into my room to eat steamed buns. So far, neither of them has caused me much embarrassment. Jing Ke is rather foolish; he is too shy to ask about the things that pique his curiosity, and the items in my room are enough for him to study for half a year. Qin Shi Huang approaches life with a sense of revelry, maintaining an appreciation for all things new and a rare sense of confusion.

I quickly snatched it and stuffed it into my pocket, interrupting, "What’s there to see about a fruit knife?" Old Pan pointed his two yellowed fingers, stained from smoking, at my nose and said, "Give it to me!" I noticed that his voice trembled slightly. I took out Jing Ke's dagger and tossed it in the air a couple of times, jokingly saying, "You don’t think this is an antique, do you?"

Today, Old Pan is attending his friend's daughter's wedding. The restaurant is not far from my place, so I will stop by to take a look.

I was playing with a knife and casually asked, "If there really is an ancient sword from the Warring States period, how much could it sell for?" Old Pan adjusted his glasses and replied in a teasing tone, "If something from the Warring States period passes through your hands and is sold, regardless of who it is sold to, you would be breaking the law. If it goes out of the country, I fear I might never see you again in this lifetime. The state prohibits the export of antiquities from before 1795; can you calculate how many years it has been since the Warring States period to 1795?"

Old Pan is the kind of ordinary middle-aged man with sparse hair slicked back to a shine, a protruding belly, and typically dressed in T-shirts and casual pants bought at street shops with his wife, his leather shoes polished to a dull sheen. He has one or two sets of branded suits to maintain appearances, wears brown-tinted glasses, and speaks in a decisive manner, resembling a businessman who has made a bit of money. He can also be described as a small section chief in a municipal government agency.

Old Pan glanced at me, stood up, and said: "I'm not going to waste time with you anymore, I have to go."

In fact, I am not foolish; I have long considered that even a single hair from the most unsightly part of classmate Jing Er's body could theoretically be regarded as a cultural relic. However, I also vaguely sensed that using this as a topic carries risks. Old Pan's remarks completely dispelled this notion of mine. Regardless of whether it is legal or illegal, if it were to truly end up abroad, I would become a historical criminal without needing to wait a thousand years. As the general manager of the "several-numbered" pawnshop, it is permissible to take advantage of others for a bit of ill-gotten gain, but after all, my school did sponsor the film "Yuanmingyuan" when I was a child, so there should still be some basic civic integrity... Old Pan's remarks completely dispelled this notion of mine. Regardless of whether it is legal or illegal, if it were to truly end up abroad, I would become a historical criminal without needing to wait a thousand years. As the general manager of the "several-numbered" pawnshop, it is permissible to take advantage of others for a bit of ill-gotten gain, but after all, my school did sponsor the film "Yuanmingyuan" when I was a child, so there should still be some basic civic integrity...

Baozi is on the early shift this week, starting at 10 AM and finishing at 4 PM, although she usually doesn't leave until around 5 PM. If she were on the late shift, she would go in at 4 PM and wouldn't return until after 11 PM. Baozi has never asked me to pick her up after the late shift, not because she has a very "alert" appearance, but because she lives in the dormitory of the Railway Engineering School. She grew up fighting and playing with children from the railway, belonging to the category of "children of the rivers and lakes." In her first year of junior high, she once whistled at a handsome young teacher, but unfortunately, she did not know he was the new English teacher before she whistled. Fortunately, the handsome teacher did not hear her, but their homeroom teacher—a rather old lady—did hear it. Baozi has been in school for many years and has only learned two lines of poetry: "The fragrance of plum blossoms comes from the bitter cold" and "Let the wind blow and the rain beat down."

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and hurriedly answered them: "The Qin Dynasty"