The sprawling streets of Xi’an, with its blend of ancient architecture and modernity, seemed like the perfect place to uncover a relic of the past. Every corner seemed teeming with stories but it was one antique store that caught his attention. The weathered sign in characters he didn't recognize hung outside, but its charm was unmistakable.
Inside, a cluster of items supposedly from various dynasties lay in organized chaos. However, it was an unassuming yellowish stone, reminiscent of an exotic fruit, that captured his intrigue.
"That? Ahh... Very old, very special," the shopkeeper remarked, noticing his interest. His broken English was a pleasant surprise. "Not many. Say, no value."
Normally, the traveler’s ingrained nature to save money would prevent him from splurging on such an item, especially something with little to no face value and looked like something he could get from any other tourist trap. However, having recently come into a large sum of fortune more than he could have ever imagined, he decided to be more carefree with his wallet.
"How much?"
"For you? Eighty yuan," replied the shopkeeper, eyes gleaming at the anticipation of a sale.
The traveler balked upon hearing the price.
‘80 Yuan? That’s 15 Canadian dollars! I could buy myself a Macdonald’s combo with large fries and a large drink! That’s enough money to buy a chicken shawarma platter with rice, fries, and salad. Not to mention, a lot of decent indie games on sale are cheaper than 15 dollars.’
Seeing the hesitation on the traveler’s face, the shopkeeper leaned closer, a twinkle of profound mysteriousness in his eyes. “This stone,” he began, voice dropping to a deep and conspiratorial whisper, “not ordinary. Legend say, stone bring luck. Big, big luck.’
The traveler raised an eyebrow, skepticism writ on his face but not without a hint of interest.
‘You said it wasn’t of much value just a moment ago but now you're saying it’s not ordinary. Hmph, I’m not so easy to fool. Let’s see what bullshit you can come up with.’
Slightly annoyed with the shopkeeper’s apparent display of shamelessness, the traveler let the shopkeeper continue, listening with open ears to what the shopkeeper had to say.
“Many year ago,” the shopkeeper continued, noticing he had captured the traveler’s attention, “stone owned by great general. General never lose and always win. But when general pass away, he tell son that stone’s luck only work once. That general my family’s ancestor. After many year, no one fated in my family for stone. Now, I see you. You very handsome, I see great fate with you and stone. Stone definitely not ordinary. Look how it look like fruit in stone.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Haha, so you’re saying I’m the destined one?” asked the traveler, amusement softening his earlier irritation. The shopkeeper’s brazen display of shamelessness and flattery had an unexpected charm “The chosen one for this stone huh?”
Grasping the stone, its peculiar warmth enveloped his hand. Regardless of the story that could only fool children, it did indeed catch his attention with its unique appearance resembling that of an exotic fruit.
“It certainly looks special,” he mused aloud, “with its smooth yet slightly uneven texture, almost like the natural imperfections found on the rind of a passion fruit or the gentle dimples of a mango. The colors beneath its surface dance with the light, creating a soft yet mesmerizing blend of yellows and ambers. It’s like watching the last rays of sunset captured within a crystalline structure..”
Mid-sentence, the traveler halted, puzzled by the sudden eloquence that had taken over his speech. It was like a ray of clarity swept his mind, unknowingly unveiling words and a depth of vocabulary he seldom used on a daily basis.
‘Huh? Why was I so articulate just now? Was I always this good with words?’
The shopkeeper himself looked equally perplexed, struggling to follow the traveler’s wordy outburst and just stared blankly, not understanding whatever yapping the customer in front of him was spouting. Yet, eager to make a sale, he kept nodding with a smile as if agreeing with whatever the traveler was saying.
“Yes, yes. Stone fated with you. Perfect match!”
‘Are you matching me with a wife?’ Grumbling inwardly, the traveler just sighed and decided to make the purchase. With his recent financial windfall, bargaining for a stone was beneath him.
Exiting the store with the cheerful farewells of the shopkeeper, he took a moment to admire the stone under the sunlight, letting its texture play with his fingers. But fate had its plans. A sudden scream, a blinding flash, and then darkness.
---
A gentle breeze rustled through the golden millet field, carrying with it the melodic chirping of crickets. The traveler found himself lying amidst a field of gold, the sky overhead with shades of sunset.
Tiny hands. Little feet. Everything felt... different.
He attempted to stand, but his legs wobbled, sending him tumbling back down. A rush of memories flooded his mind. A loving mother, a stern father, a small but homely hut, kids playing by the brook, and scoldings in a language that sounded Chinese yet he could understand. The overwhelming torrent of information left him dizzy with a throbbing ache consuming his temples.
After a few painstaking minutes, he managed to sit up, adjusting to his new reality. He wasn't in Xi’an anymore, that was for certain. However, there was a more concerning issue. He was someone else, somewhere else, and memories of his past life awoke in him.
A small figure approached from a distance. "Su Ning! There you are!" A young boy, looking like the age of 13, dashed towards him. "Mom's been worried! How long were you going to stay outside for? You have to stop going off on your own now. You’re 8 years old now."
He blinked, recognizing him from his newfound memories. His elder brother, Su Ming.
"Come," He said, in an annoyed tone but showing his care by offering a small hand, "Let's go home."
Pausing for a moment, Su Ning grabbed his hand. The fleeting sensation of the yellowish stone felt from his fingertips echoed like the whispers from his past life, even though it was nowhere to be seen.
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