I spent seven years inside the prison, because of good behavior, I earned a sentence reduction.

On the first day out, I received several calls. Bosses were persuading me to join them with offers of a hundred thousand a month plus a car, and even two hundred thousand a month with shares.

These calls mostly came from two places.

Beijing's Panjiayuan, Tianjin's Shenyang Road.

At the time, I thought it over but still turned them all down.

It was a mistake to enter this line of work in the first place. Even though I made a fortune overnight, it came at a price—seven years of my life. I went from a fresh-faced young man to a potbellied uncle in his thirties.

The girls I knew back then... their kids are old enough to run errands now...

Without family or obligations, I was utterly alone and eventually chose to go to Dali.

I bought a small shopfront by Erhai Lake and opened a little supermarket. On days when business was slow, I'd stroll by the seaside, enjoying the sea breeze. Life was leisurely and peaceful.

My little supermarket is on Cangshan East Road, next to Le Mart. If any friends wish to visit, I'll welcome them with tea.

Remember the recent discovery of the Ancient Shu Civilization, and the nationwide sensation of the unearthed Golden Mask? Well, my path to sudden wealth was somewhat related to these things.

It boils down to two words.

Antiques, Tomb Raiding.

In recent years, "Ghost Blows Out the Light," "Grave Robbers' Chronicles," "Golden Pupil," these movies and TV series have been all the rage. Now that I have some free time, I also write about the things that happened in this trade.

Cloud Top Sky Palace, Qinling Sacred Tree—I've never seen them, nor do I possess a Golden Pupil. But having entered the antiques business at sixteen, I've indeed witnessed many things beyond the average person's comprehension.

Let's start from the beginning.

I was born in a small village in the northeast of our motherland, right next to Mohe, where winters are so cold they could freeze you to death.

My grandmother raised me. I never saw my parents, nor did I want to ask about them.

As the old saying goes, grandparents dote on their grandchildren. As a child, I was quite mischievous, disobeyed teachers, and my academic performance was abysmal, consistently ranking at the bottom of my class.

At that time, the village provided us with a minimum living allowance, which was about eighty yuan a month, and there was also a Subsidy for Orphans in Extreme Poverty, which was over a hundred yuan a month. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that my family was barely scraping by.

During junior high, the Central TV's Treasure Hunt Show was on every day, and I was utterly fascinated. Those jars and pots that nobody took seriously turned out to be antiques worth tens of thousands, capable of being exchanged for houses, for cars!

I used to lie to my grandmother, saying the school required us to buy study materials. She gave me money, and I ran to the bookstore, buying up books on antiques.

The first book I remember reading was "Fifty Famous Ancient Springs" by Mr. Dai, a thick volume.

Ancient springs refer to copper coins, locally known as Purple Coins. This book was an eye-opener for me, sparking a wild fascination for antiques.

I rummaged through our house and bamboozled my classmates, not bothering to inspect the coins, buying them at a uniform rate of five mao apiece, urging them to pilfer copper coins from their homes to sell to me, which I eagerly acquired.

By scrimping and saving, never ordering dishes at the cafeteria, and later selling a heap of textbooks for seven yuan, I made do. My academic performance was so poor that the teacher could only sigh, lamenting that I was finished, a child who didn't study properly would only amount to a "Social Cancer" in the future.

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I dismissed my teacher's words with disdain, harboring a "Dream of Wealth" in my heart. Even if I were to become a scourge, I was determined to be a wealthy one.

In the ninth grade, as the high school entrance exams loomed, I was 16.

My grandmother had an accident while clearing snow in the yard, breaking her leg. The medical and surgical expenses totaled over three thousand yuan.

Our family's financial situation was such that we couldn't even muster six hundred yuan. I remember vividly how my grandmother lay on the kang bed-stove, wrapped in thick blankets, weeping at night.

My elder brother-in-law, who had opened several agritainment businesses in the snowy town of Mohe, was doing well for himself. I went to him to borrow money for my grandmother's medication.

Although he said nothing to my face, I once overheard him calling me a "Broom Star" and labeling our family an "Impoverished Household." He considered the loaned money as good as lost and advised my aunt to minimize her contact with us.

On a winter's night in Mohe, with temperatures dropping below thirty degrees below zero, I sat on a rock for over three hours.

Youthful arrogance shattered a young man's pride into smithereens.

Clutching the borrowed money, I swore to myself: "I, Xiang Yunfeng, will definitely make something of myself!"

I dropped out of school on my own accord. Strictly speaking, I didn't even have a junior high school diploma—I was merely a primary school graduate.

Out of the three thousand yuan, after covering my grandmother's surgery and medication, I secretly kept seven hundred and fifty-three yuan for myself.

I didn't just collect copper coins; I also went to neighboring villages to gather porcelain and silver dollars.

Rural folks only recognized the value of silver dollars, paying little attention to bottles, dishes, and other porcelain items, which they didn't understand or care much about.

I gradually developed a basic discernment by reading books and watching antique appraisal shows.

I purchased a pair of late Qing Dynasty foreign blue rooster feather duster vases for a hundred yuan, several small Republic of China period pastel beauty picture salt pots for less than two hundred yuan, and three mid-Qing Dynasty folk kiln blue and white bowls for one hundred and eighty yuan. Unfortunately, all three bowls had 'chicken claw patterns' and were not well preserved, each with major impact lines.

Previously, I had saved a small bag of copper coins, about two hundred in total, mostly Song Dynasty coins and Qing coins, with those from the reigns of Daoguang, Guangxu, Qianlong, the Imperial Song Dynasty, and Yuanfeng being the most common. I knew these were not very valuable due to their large circulation. Among them, what satisfied me the most were three well-preserved Yongzheng coins. I was aware that Yongzheng coins could be worth something, but at the time, I did not know exactly how much.

After purchasing all those items, I had spent over five hundred yuan, leaving me with just forty for myself. At the time, the average monthly salary was just over three hundred yuan.

I had a good relationship with a female classmate who had helped me out and loaned me two large rolling suitcases.

I carefully wrapped the eleven pieces of porcelain and a small bag of copper coins in bedding, wrapping them again and again for fear of breakage, and stuffed in plenty of foam.

In the end, everything filled the two large rolling suitcases and a backpack to the brim.

My grandmother couldn't understand my actions, criticizing me for not pursuing a proper vocation and lamenting that she had raised me in vain. My great-uncle, as well as most of the villagers, had also heard about this.

Many people gossiped about me behind my back.

Enduring their cold stares and their lack of understanding, on the morning of the seventeenth day of the twelfth lunar month, I left Mohe with my belongings.

In my mind, I believed that Beijingers were the wealthiest and naturally, they would be the ones to buy my antiques. Besides, I had long harbored a fascination with the legendary Panjiayuan.

There were no direct routes from Mohe to Beijing; I had to take a train to Siping first and then transfer from Siping to Beijing West.

The entire journey spanned over two thousand kilometers and would take more than fifty hours. To save money, I chose the cheapest hard seat.

Carrying the two large rolling suitcases and with a backpack on my shoulders, my hair greasy and my clothes unfashionable, I drew curious glances and whispers from fellow passengers at the station.

It was my first time traveling far from home and my first time on a train, all by myself.

After buying my ticket, I had less than a hundred yuan left. If I couldn't sell my items, I wouldn't even be able to afford the return fare, let alone food.

Food on the train was expensive, and I didn't dare spend much, so I kept drinking hot water from my cup. When I was unbearably hungry, I bought a bag of fried dough twists for four yuan.

For a country boy's first trip to Beijing, everything was novel. It was the first time I had ever seen security scanners at a train station.

Although I was young, I wasn't shy around strangers and dared to converse. I asked people how to get to Panjiayuan Antique Market. The ticket seller was very kind and suggested I take the subway, even explaining how to transfer lines.

From Beijing West Station, I took Line 9, then got off at Liuliqiao to transfer to Line 10, and finally got off at Panjiayuan Station.

Fortunately, my memory served me well, and I didn't take many wrong turns. At that time, the subway cost two yuan for unlimited rides, as long as you didn't exit the station, no one would bother you.

After getting off at the subway station, the pedestrian walkways were lined with anti-slip pits. Carrying my backpack and dragging the two large suitcases was a struggle.

Crossing the Huaweiqiao, I finally saw the golden horizontal stele standing outside the north gate.

"Panjiayuan Second-Hand Market."

"At last, I've arrived..." (To be continued)

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I have also posted the following more chapters [All free]: https://www.readgates.com/article/7b136c