At that time, Baoguo Temple also had stalls—quite a number of them—mostly dealing in coins and porcelain fragments. It is said that the renowned Beijing collector Pian Bai started his business there.
Every pot has its lid. I happened to be carrying porcelain and copper coins, which perfectly matched the situation. Instantly, my frustration vanished, and my confidence soared.
I really don't believe that old-timer is unwanted!
I was lucky to snag a spot in front of the newsstand and spent my last three dollars on two chicken sausages.
I was munching on a chicken sausage and thought to myself, "Whether I end up starving or freezing to death in Beijing, or live a life of luxury—it all comes down to today."
Unexpected.
I had just set up my stall, and in less than ten minutes, a crowd had gathered in front of my little stand.
"Boss, how much are these Song and Qing dynasty coins?"
"Boss, could you please show me that pastel-colored salt shaker of yours?"
For a while, I was swamped with work.
"Boss, how much for that pair of foreign blue bile vases? Just give me your lowest price—if it's right, I'll take them."
Flustered, I glanced at the stall and said offhandedly, "For this pair of foreign blue porcelain vases, the lowest I can go is eight hundred."
"Deal. Wrap them up. How should I pay?" The man nodded right away and asked me to pack them.
"Wait, hold on. I'll offer eight hundred and thirty for this pair of vases," suddenly another person raised the price.
"Ma Laosan, isn't this... against the rules?" the man said coldly.
"Heh, rules? Haven't you paid yet? The young boss can sell to whoever they want!"
"You're talking to me about rules? Boss Song, genuine old items are getting rarer by the day. Besides, a dowry vase like this will sell in no time. Just put it in a nice box and display it in your shop—how much could it fetch? Don't tell me you have no idea, Boss Song."
Boss Song slapped his thigh with a sharp clap.
"Fuck! Ma Laoliu, who the hell are you to tell me how much I can sell? It's none of your damn business!"
Seeing that the two of them were about to come to blows, I quickly stepped in to mediate.
"Hey now, no need to argue. There are other things here, right? Take a look at this small famille rose salt jar—it's quite nice. Even though it's missing the lid, the painting is exquisite."
Boss Song stared at the salt jar in my hand and raised his voice, "Little brother, you just offered to sell it to me for eight hundred. Who are you trying to sell it to now?"
I thought to myself, "How come things that no one wanted at Panjiayuan are now being fought over here?"
After a moment's reflection, I looked at him and said, "Brother, the original price for this pair of vases was eight hundred, and I'll stick to that. I can't go back on my word."
"Haha!"
"Great!" The man laughed heartily, patting his beer belly and casting a triumphant look at Old Six Ma.
He quickly scanned the other items on my stall.
"Alright, little brother, you're straightforward. I'll match your sincerity."
"I'll take everything you've got here."
"Take it all, I'll buy everything!"
"Ah?" I was momentarily stunned, wondering how this Beijing boss could be so extravagant.
"Alright, stop selling now. Pack up your stall and follow Boss Song to his store to get your money," a neighboring stall vendor said to me enviously.
"Oh, oh, sure," I quickly packed up my things.
I went into the store with the pot-bellied Boss Song, and he told me to leave the box behind, saying he would include the cost of the box in the payment.
Finally.
Porcelain, copper coins, and the box—the big-bellied boss gave me 4,700 in cash! That was equivalent to a year's savings for an ordinary worker back then.
How epic is that? The big boss bought out the entire stall in one go, even taking the rolling suitcase I had...
I walked out of Baoguo Temple empty-handed, feeling the thick stack of hundred-yuan bills tucked in my clothes. I was grinning so hard my face almost split.
Standing on the Guang'anmen Bridge, clutching that fortune, I shouted at the top of my lungs: "Heaven rewards the determined! I, Xiang Yunfeng, may not be cut out for studying, but I was born to do business! My uncle's agritourism venture is nothing! I'm going to be the most legendary antique dealer in the country!" Passersby stared at me like I was a weirdo.
Now, over fifteen years later, every time I think of that moment, I can't help but laugh. I was such a dumbass.
That single trip earned me a clean profit of over 4,000 bucks!
With a surplus of grain at home, one need not fear hunger; with money in hand, the first priority is to fill the stomach. As a village boy with a big appetite, I ate two bowls of knife-shaved noodles and ordered a cold dish, leaving me completely satisfied. After the meal, picking my teeth with a toothpick, I started making plans: "Hmm, this approach works. After repaying my uncle, I'll still have some left. This should be enough to serve as capital. Next time, I won't need to borrow from my uncle again. If I can earn 4,000 in one trip by collecting more goods, what if I make ten trips? That would be 40,000!"
In the evening, when I arrived at the West Station, I was persuaded by a middle-aged woman to check into a small hotel costing 60 yuan per night.
After I moved in, the landlady secretly whispered to me, "Young man, would you like me to find you a girl?"
Once I realized what she meant, I quickly waved my hands and said, "No, no, I don't need a girl."
The landlady kept pestering me persistently, and in the end, I had no choice but to give her an additional twenty yuan to stop her from bothering me again.
As the old saying goes, when you're away from home, it's best not to flaunt your wealth.
I remember it vividly—the hotel proprietress was staring intently at the stack of red bills I had. That night, I was extremely tired and drifted off to sleep in a daze. Worried about safety, I deliberately tucked the money, which was in a plastic bag, under my pillow.
Little did I expect that when I woke up...
The money was gone.
Over four thousand yuan, which I had worked so hard to earn, had vanished.
"Where's the money? Where is it?" My face turned pale with panic, and I frantically tore through the bedsheets and rummaged under the pillow.
But there was nothing left, only a shriveled black plastic bag.
I was terrified and hurried to find the landlady. I asked her to check the surveillance footage, telling her that my money was gone and I needed to call the police.
The outcome was predictable.
Not a single cent was recovered.
To this day, I still harbor ill feelings toward those small lodges near train stations.
Over a decade has passed, and I suspect that little lodge is long gone. Do I hate it? Not really anymore.
If I hadn't lost the money back then, I might have been a small antique shop owner by now, perhaps even married with children. The trajectory of my life could have been completely different.
But no one gets a second chance.
If I hadn't lost the money back then, I wouldn't be part of this circle, and the nickname "Eagle Eye" would never have existed in the underworld.
The police simply took my statement, subtly hinting that there was little hope of recovering the money.
Empty-handed and utterly disheartened,
I didn't dare return to Mohe, I didn't dare go home.
I knew that if I went back, I'd be laughed at—mocked by my peers and looked down upon by my uncle's family.
I was too ashamed!
I said I earned four thousand yuan, but no one in the village would ever believe it!
Standing on the pedestrian overbridge outside the West Station, for a moment, I really wanted to jump. I thought, if I died right then and there, it would be over.
With no father, no mother, and no one to care about me, I was just a wild child, unloved and unwanted. Better to die early and be reborn sooner.
When young people are emotionally immature, it's truly terrifying if they ever develop thoughts like mine.
Back then, I was ready to jump off the overbridge. Even if the fall didn't kill me, I'd probably be run over by one of the passing trucks.
I had already stretched my leg out.
Just then, someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind.