Qin Shi: I went astray in the Heavenly Sect

Chapter 1 Antique Hunting in Panjiayuan
In the early morning at Panjiayuan, the mist had not yet dissipated, and the air was filled with the mixed scents of dust and sandalwood. Vendors set up simple stalls and displayed all sorts of "antiques"—incense burners with mottled copper patina, porcelain bowls with mottled glaze, and yellowed old books and paintings, a dazzling array of items, yet it was difficult to distinguish the genuine from the fake.

A young man strolled slowly through the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the stalls filled with the constant shouts of vendors, finally stopping in an inconspicuous corner. The stall owner, a middle-aged man with messy hair, was squinting at the passing customers, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips.

The young man's gaze fell upon an inkstone. The inkstone was entirely black, with a blurred dragon pattern carved on its surface. The edge of the inkwell gleamed with a bluish-gray sheen, as if weathered by time. He leaned down to examine it closely, his fingertips hovering above the inkstone, yet he hesitated to touch it.

"Brother, you have good taste!"

The stall owner, Lao Yan, suddenly moved closer, and the smell of smoke mixed with bad breath hit me.

"This is a treasure I just acquired from the Qinling Mountains. Ten thousand yuan, let's be friends!"

The young man's lips twitched almost imperceptibly.

He knew the rules of Panjiayuan—genuine items weren't unavailable, but 99% of the time the "stories" were more valuable than the actual goods. This man in front of him clearly saw him as a fat sheep to be slaughtered.

He glanced at the boss surnamed Yan, said nothing, and stood up to leave.

Seeing this, the shop owner quickly stood up and stopped him, saying, "Hey, hey, young man, don't go!"

"If you're not satisfied with this price, we can talk again. Here's what we'll do: you name your price, and if it's right, I, Old Yan, will take a loss today and sell it to you cheaply, okay?!"

The young man was taken aback. He hadn't expected the shop owner to be so enthusiastic. But the more enthusiastic the owner was, the more he felt that the inkstone he had his eye on was very likely a fake.

More accurately, it's a counterfeit. The counterfeiting technology is so outrageous these days that even experts can be fooled. He himself is only a half-baked expert and is not really suited for this industry.

He had intended to leave and not argue with the mercenary shopkeeper anymore, but the young man inadvertently glanced at a porcelain pillow on the stall. The item looked unremarkable and had a very old feel to it, and he squatted down again as if possessed.

Seeing the other person squat down again, a hint of smugness flashed in Old Yan's eyes, but he pretended to be serious: "Brother, you have a good eye! This 'pine soot inkstone' is an artifact from the reign of Emperor Huizong of Song. Look at the craftsmanship..."

He spoke with great enthusiasm, his fingers tapping loudly on the inkstone.

"Dragon patterns are faintly visible, and smoke rises from the ink pool! At Gu Bao Zhai, this would cost at least 500,000!"

The young man remained silent, staring intently at the inkstone, his gaze as calm as if he were examining a piece of evidence.

Old Yan's heart pounded—usually this kind of talk would have already confused the guests, but this person in front of him didn't even blink twice.

Old Yan asked tentatively, his tone becoming more impatient.

"Brother, I've been talking for ages, have you decided whether you've taken a liking to this thing or not?"

The young man nodded.

His eyes were very calm, and his tone was neither hurried nor slow. Then he slowly said, "I've taken a liking to you."

Hearing this affirmative answer, the boss was overjoyed. He wasn't afraid of anything else, but he was afraid that the other party wouldn't like him or wouldn't approve of him.

"Then, buddy, name your price!"

The anxiety finally subsided, and the boss's smile widened.

The young man was silent for a moment before speaking, "Boss, can I try it out?"

Old Yan chuckled, a sly glint in his eyes: "Of course! In the antique business, how can you do it without handling the items?"

As he spoke, he picked up the inkstone and handed it over, but deliberately wiggled his wrist. If the other person took it with one hand, he could "accidentally" break it and then extort money from him.

The young man took it steadily with both hands, his fingertips first tracing a trace of undried glue on the bottom of the inkstone. Without a word, he ran his fingertips over the carving—it was too neat, showing no signs of wear from a century of use.

After a while, the young man put the inkstone back in its place, his movements very gentle. Seeing that the young man didn't speak, the shopkeeper suddenly had a bad feeling. However, at this moment, he couldn't show weakness, nor could he speak first. The key to bargaining was the initiative in the conversation. When this young man said he liked it, his face didn't change at all. Having set up a stall here for many years, he had seen quite a few people. This was not the behavior one would expect when someone liked something.

Time ticked by, but the young man remained silent, instead looking at the other items on the stall.

Old Yan's heart sank, knowing that this deal was probably going to fall through. Of all the items on the stall, this inkstone was the best imitation; as for the others, well, that was another story. Now that the other party didn't even seem interested in this inkstone, they probably wouldn't fall for the other items either.

"Hey bro, are you going to buy it or not?"

This time, Old Yan's words carried a hint of impatience.

"Buy it!"

The young man didn't look up and continued speaking.

Old Yan was taken aback, then he asked, "How much money can you offer?"

The young man held up two fingers and waved them in front of him.

Old Yan was delighted when he saw the two fingers.

Twenty thousand is a considerable sum.

Old Yan cleared his throat and said, "Brother, to be honest, I spent a lot of money to get this from outside. Selling it for 100,000 would only be a small profit. If you really like it, add another 68,000 to make it an auspicious number, 88,000, and I'll sell it to you!"

Upon hearing this, the young man looked away. This time, he didn't try to dodge the question and said directly, "Two hundred."

Old Yan was stunned at first, then his face turned red. Although he had asked the other party to give an offer, he never expected it to be two hundred. He wondered if the young man opposite him was joking.
He then said in a dark tone, "Two hundred?? Do you think this is a potato market? You want to buy a pine soot inkstone for two hundred? You're dreaming! Get lost, I'm not selling it!!!"

Seeing the other party get angry, the young man's expression remained unchanged. He stared at the shop owner and said in a deep voice, "Old Yan, right? Everyone around is watching! Everyone knows whether the things sold here are real or fake. From the beginning until now, I've seen how many people have come to your stall, you've seen it, and everyone else has seen it too."

Old Yan's expression turned somewhat unnatural upon hearing this, while the others nearby all looked on with amusement. The young man was right; everyone here setting up stalls knew exactly who had good stuff and who had counterfeit goods.

Nowadays, young people who like antiques rarely visit the stalls anymore. Most of them go to Gu Bao Zhai, where the items are a bit more expensive, but at least the quality is guaranteed.

"I like this thing, but I just think the design is pretty good. I want to buy it to use when I practice calligraphy, not to collect it."

“If the boss is really trying to rip me off, then I’ll just have to give up. I’m sure you’re not the only stall that has this kind of thing. I can just go to another stall, or if all else fails, I can just buy one online. I’m sure the price there will be cheaper than yours.”

Old Yan's expression changed, and he thought to himself, "This is bad. If people find out that everything on my stall is fake, how can I do business?"

Just as he was thinking of denying it to the death and then trying to smooth things over, the young man's voice came again.

"Old Yan, stop messing around, it's all being recorded!!"

The young man pointed to a pinhole camera on his chest, effectively shutting down the other person's words.

Now that things have come to this, he has no choice but to accept it.

"Your porcelain pillow has a nice design. How about I offer another two hundred to sell it to me together?"

Watching the young man's departing figure, Old Yan's gloomy face suddenly changed, and he chuckled, "The items were bought wholesale, and each one cost twenty."

There's a saying that goes, "You think you've gained, but I'm never at a loss."

"No matter how cunning and treacherous you are, you still drank my old Yan's foot bath water."

(End of this chapter)