Chapter 104: Return to the Sea Reemerges

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“Wanzi, who exactly is this young fellow?” Old Huang, the eldest of the three, whispered.

Wan Hailiu glanced at Old Huang and smirked, “Who he is, you probably wouldn’t believe even if I told you. But you two know about my cancer; I don’t have six months left. Yet just yesterday, I invited Master Xiao Yang to bring a statue of Guanyin to my room. When I woke up this morning, I felt much more at ease.”

“Really?” The man in his fifties looked skeptical.

“Zhen, believe it or not!” Wan Hailiu snapped. “I know my own body best. I’m living day to day. How could I not feel whether I’m better or not?”

“Maybe he drugged you,” Old Huang suggested.

“Drugged me? Anesthesia?” Wan Hailiu’s eyes reddened instantly. “At my stage of cancer, not even narcotics can stop the pain. Otherwise, why would so many terminal patients turn to drugs? Aside from poison, what other medicine do you think there is?”

Old Huang and Zhen fell silent, speechless.

“Besides, I met Master Xiao Yang at the Minjiang Antique Appraisal Fair yesterday. I came here alone today, told no one. Master Xiao Yang definitely wasn’t here to meet me—well, he probably wasn’t.”

Zhen raised an eyebrow. “Probably wasn’t? Could Xiao Yang be some kind of fortune teller?”

“He even told you what color underwear you’re wearing today!”

Just as Old Huang said, in the corner by the south wall lay a dusty pile of old items. Yang Tang tidied up a pair of somewhat dirty gloves on the nearby table, too lazy to rummage through the heap. Opening his sharp eyes, he quickly spotted the only two white bracelets among the pile that didn’t match.

Unfortunately, there was no gold. Sighing, Yang Tang picked up four or five other small trinkets, each at least a hundred years old, piled them together, bagged them in a plastic sack, and headed back to where the conversation was happening.

“Are you the shop owner?” Yang Tang asked Old Huang. “I want just these few things. How much?”

Opening the plastic bag, he cupped the items in both hands and showed them to Old Huang.

Old Huang casually glanced at the thick layer of dust on the items and recognized them as belonging to the pile by the south wall. He said, “Little brother Yang, right? Just a few things—five hundred yuan and they’re yours.”

Yang Tang was ready to pay immediately, but Old Huang quickly motioned him to stop. “Slow down, little Yang. Want to save even that five hundred?”

“No!” Yang Tang placed the money on the counter and walked off leisurely, plastic bag in hand.

Old Huang was speechless.

Seeing this, Wan Hailiu said, “Alright, Old Huang, you’re trying to get Master Xiao Yang to make a move for just a few hundred yuan. That’s really stingy.” Then, pointing to a cloisonné enamel piece on the table that looked old, he said, “I’ll leave this piece here with you. If anyone wants it, sell it at whatever price you think fit.” Saying that, he hurried after Yang Tang.

Watching Wan Hailiu’s retreating figure disappear, Zhen looked uneasy. “Old Huang, what if Master Xiao Yang is a fraud?”

Old Huang scoffed, “With Wanzi in his state, what’s there left to cheat?”

Zhen paused, then laughed wryly. “Right, Hailiu doesn’t have many days left. He’s already left money for his kids. Whatever else he’s cheated out of, it’s just worldly goods that you can’t take with you.”

“Master Xiao Yang! Master Xiao Yang!”

Yang Tang had just left the secondhand market, planning to look for a taxi or a bus stop ahead, when a Mercedes-Benz 600, just over five meters long, pulled up behind him. The window slid down halfway on his side, revealing Wan Hailiu’s weathered face.

“Need a ride?”

“I don’t know where Master Xiao Yang is headed, but I can give you a lift!”

Yang Tang hesitated briefly, then opened the door and got in. “To the ferry terminal. I plan to stay on Gulangyu Island for a couple of days.”

Wan Hailiu suddenly realized, “So Master Xiao Yang is here on Ludo Island for a visit? Ah Diao, to my dock!”

“Understood, boss!” The driver responded over the radio, speeding up.

Meanwhile, Wan Hailiu explained to Yang Tang, “Master Xiao Yang, I have two yachts. Since you want to go to Gulangyu, why not take my boat?”

“Sounds good,” Yang Tang replied noncommittally. “Just now at the market, you and those two were looking over cloisonné enamel?”

Wan Hailiu paused, “Not exactly studying, just showing each other our favorite collectibles.”

Yang Tang paused, then asked, “Those three cloisonné pieces—you each took one?”

“Yeah, what’s the matter?”

Yang Tang couldn’t help but laugh. “Old Huang actually runs an antique store?”

“Master Xiao Yang, what’s so funny? Did you see something off right away?”

Yang Tang said, “Though I’m no expert in cloisonné enamel, I know the most valuable antiques date from about two hundred to a hundred and twenty years ago. Older ones have artistic value but poorer craftsmanship, while modern ones have better technique but lack artistry. A single mold could produce hundreds or thousands, like cabbage; how could they still sell for a price? The ones you had on the table—the oldest was seventy-five years, another forty-six years, but the piece in front of Old Huang…”

Wan Hailiu, now intrigued, jumped in, “You mean only Old Huang’s piece is over a hundred years old?”

“That piece was made just last week.”

“What?!” Wan Hailiu was dumbfounded.

Luckily, antiques are defined by the passage of time. There’s no true or fake, just older or newer. If you count time strictly, a freshly made ceramic bowl could be called an antique since the era of porcelain firing is long past.

“How come Old Huang’s cloisonné piece looks like yours and Zhen’s but is so much newer?”

Yang Tang calmly said, “Not surprising. If you soak a new item in a cesspit for a while, it’ll show the traces of age.”

“Soak it in a cesspit?!”

Fortunately, the car had just arrived at Wan Hailiu’s private dock, so they dropped the subject.

Ten minutes later, with the yacht’s engine warmed up, Wan Hailiu accompanied Yang Tang aboard as they set off for Gulangyu.

“Master Xiao Yang, have you booked a hotel on the island?”

“Of course.”

“So you really are here to tour?”

“Not exactly. I came to Ludo Island mainly to check out the items Old Huang put up for online auction. Didn’t expect to find anything good among his trinkets.”

“But you still bought a few things!”

Yang Tang said, “I came all this way, can’t leave empty-handed.”

“Fair enough,” Wan Hailiu nodded. “How long do you plan to stay on Gulangyu?”

“Two or three days. I was originally going to Laos and Myanmar soon to check out gambling stones firsthand, but plans change. I already made over a hundred million yuan at the Minjiang Hotel yesterday; chasing more gambling stone profits now would just be greedy.”

“So, Master Xiao Yang, you’ll be here a while? When you leave Gulangyu, you’re welcome to stay at my place,” Wan Hailiu warmly invited.

Yang Tang was noncommittal. “We’ll see when the time comes.”

In truth, Gulangyu is a small island, with architecture mainly in the mid-19th-century missionary style. This period was a turbulent time for the Qing dynasty, with foreign powers illegally occupying many southeastern coastal islands—including Gulangyu—until China regained these territories after World War I.

Because of this unique history, the island’s culture and scenery differ somewhat from other parts of China, giving it a distinctive charm.

Aside from some sightseeing cars, the island has almost no other vehicles, and bicycles are rare. Residents and tourists mostly walk, making time seem to pass lazily and quietly.

One could tour all the sights in half a day, but Yang Tang was not in a rush. After checking into the central hotel, he strolled down a path toward the southwestern beach and the famed Gulang Rock.

Walking along the beach to near Shuzhuang Garden, he realized he might have chosen a less convenient hotel.

The reason was simple: July is perfect for swimming, but the hotel in the island’s center was somewhat far from the three main beaches.

Changing hotels now would be troublesome, so Yang Tang bought a shoulder bag and swim trunks nearby, had lunch at a restaurant near Shuzhuang Garden, and asked the staff about the beaches.

Gangzaihou Beach, west of Shuzhuang Garden, is popular with tourists and has many entertainment facilities. Dadeji Beach, behind Haoyue Garden, is favored by locals, with fewer amenities but cleaner water.

Being alone, Yang Tang avoided crowded spots, so after lunch, he carried his bag to Haoyue Garden.

At Dadeji Beach, he found a quiet corner. Behind a large rock, he took out a large travel bag from a ring on his ring finger, packed his clothes and the new shoulder bag inside, then retracted it back into the ring. Wearing only swim trunks and goggles, with nothing else applied, he slipped into the water.

One advantage of Gulangyu’s beaches is that swimming is free, so few paid attention to him.

Yang Tang had learned to swim briefly in middle school. Freestyle was his strength. Though not perfect, his swimming technique was praised by sports school teachers as among the best for his age group.

Once in the water, relying on his skills, he swam toward areas with many beautiful legs, surfacing to breathe and drawing delighted gasps from nearby girls and women. Then he dived again, leaving them trailing far behind.

After several such rounds, Yang Tang was feeling pleased with himself when suddenly he surfaced behind four or five big men, one of whom faced him directly. The man’s goggles were pushed up on his forehead. Could it be none other than Gui Hai Youde?

A wild week ahead—please remember to bookmark, bookmark, bookmark!

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