Eastern Tomb Expedition Chronicles

Chapter 1 Leaving Home

Chapter 1 Leaving Home

I spent seven years behind bars, but good behavior earned me parole. On my first day out, I received several calls from bosses urging me to join them. Offers ranged from ten thousand a month plus a car to twenty thousand and shares, mostly from two places: Panjiayuan in Beijing and Shenyang Road in Tianjin. I considered, then declined them all. Joining this business was a mistake from the start. Even if it promised overnight wealth, I had paid the price. Seven years had transformed me from a fresh-faced lad into a thirty-something uncle with a paunch. The girl I once knew now has children of her own... With no ties to anyone, I decided to head to Dali. There, I bought a small storefront by Erhai Lake and opened a convenience store. When business was slow, I'd stroll along the shore, letting the sea breeze soothe my soul. The address of my little store is on Cangshan East Road, next to Loma. If any friends wish to visit, I'll welcome them with tea. Recently, there was a discovery of the ancient Shu civilization, along with the sensational unearthing of a golden mask that made waves nationwide. Truth be told, my path to fortune has some connection to these things. It revolves around two words: antiques and tomb-raiding. In the past few years, works like "The Ghost Blows Out the Light," "The Grave Robbers' Chronicles," and "The Golden Eyes" have become immensely popular in films and television. With some free time on my hands now, I've decided to jot down some of the tales from this line of work. I may not have seen the Heavenly Palace or the Divine Tree of Qinling, nor do I possess the Golden Eyes. However, at the age of sixteen, I entered the world of antiques, and I've indeed witnessed many things that ordinary folks couldn't comprehend. Let me start from the beginning. I was born in a small mountain village in the northeast of our motherland, near the frozen river of the Amur. Raised by my grandmother, I never knew my parents and had no desire to inquire about them. As the saying goes, distant relatives are as close as kin. In my youth, I was quite mischievous, refusing to heed the teachers' guidance and consistently ranking at the bottom of my class. At the time, the village received some form of welfare support, around eighty yuan per month, along with an additional subsidy for orphans and impoverished families, totaling over a hundred yuan monthly. It was a struggle for my family to make ends meet. During junior high, Central Television aired treasure-hunting programs daily, which captivated me. Items that people disregarded as mere trinkets turned out to be worth tens of thousands when deemed antiques by experts—enough to buy houses and cars! I used to deceive my grandmother, claiming the school required me to purchase study materials. With the money she provided, I would rush to the bookstore and buy books on antiques. I remember the first book I read was "Fifty Treasures of Ancient Coins" by Mr. Dai, a thick volume indeed.The ancient coins, which we call "purple coins" back home, really opened my eyes. That book got me crazily obsessed with antiques. I rummaged through every nook and cranny of our house and convinced my classmates to steal coins from their own homes to sell to me, all at the uniform price of fifty cents each, without even looking at the text. I lived frugally, never ordering meals at the cafeteria. Later on, I sold a pile of textbooks for seven yuan. My academic performance was so poor; the teachers would just sigh, saying I was doomed. They said I'd end up a social menace if I didn't study properly. At the time, I scoffed at their words. In my mind, I was dreaming of wealth. Even if I became a menace, I wanted to be a rich one. In my third year of junior high, just before the high school entrance exam, I was 16. My grandmother had an accident while clearing snow in the courtyard, breaking her leg. The medical expenses, including the surgery, amounted to over three thousand yuan. We couldn't even scrape together six hundred yuan at the time. I vividly remember my grandmother lying on the kang, covered in thick blankets, crying at night. My uncle, who ran several farmhouse inns in the snow village of Mohe, was doing well in business. So, I went to him to borrow money for my grandmother's medicine. Although it wasn't said to my face, I overheard my uncle once calling me a jinx, saying our family was on the decline. He said the money he lent would be lost and told my aunt to cut back on our interactions. That winter night in Mohe, with temperatures below minus thirty degrees Celsius, I sat on a rock for over three hours. In my youthful arrogance, my uncle's words shattered the pride of a young man. Clutching the borrowed money tightly, I vowed to myself, "I, Xiang Yunfeng, will make something of myself!" I dropped out of school on the spot. Strictly speaking, I don't even have a junior high diploma; I'm technically a primary school graduate. Out of the three thousand yuan, after buying medicine for my grandmother, I had seven hundred and fifty-three yuan left. I secretly kept this money aside. In addition to collecting ancient coins, I started going to neighboring villages to collect porcelain and silver dollars. Rural folk only saw value in silver dollars and didn't pay much attention to items like bottles, bowls, and porcelain, so I had an advantage. Reading books and watching antique appraisal programs every day, I gradually developed some basic skills. I bought a pair of late Qing Dynasty Yangcai chicken feather dusters for a hundred yuan, several Republican period fencai maiden salt cellars for less than two hundred yuan, and three Qing Dynasty mid-term Ming kiln blue and white bowls for a hundred and eighty yuan. Unfortunately, these bowls all had chicken claw patterns and weren't well preserved, with significant damage. Before that, I had also saved a small bag of copper coins, totaling over two hundred, mostly Song and Qing coins. Among them, there were quite a few Daoguang, Guangxu, Qianlong, Huang Song, and Yuanfeng coins, which were abundant in circulation. I knew they weren't very valuable. But what pleased me most were three well-preserved Yongzheng coins. I knew Yongzheng Tongbao could fetch some money, but at the time, I didn't know exactly how much. After buying these items, I spent over five hundred yuan. I had two hundred and forty yuan left, while the average monthly wage at the time was just over three hundred yuan. I had a good relationship with a female classmate at the time, and she helped me out by lending me two large 30-inch suitcases. With eleven pieces of porcelain and a small bag of copper coins, I carefully wrapped them in blankets and bubble wrap to prevent breakage. I filled two large suitcases and a backpack to the brim. My grandmother couldn't understand my actions; she said I wasn't focusing on proper work and even said she had raised me in vain. My uncle also found out about this matter, and most people in the village knew about it too. Many people whispered behind my back. Bearing the disdain of others and the incomprehension of others, on the morning of the seventeenth day of the twelfth month, I left Mohe with my belongings. At the time, I thought people in Beijing were the wealthiest, so naturally, I wanted to sell my antiques to them. Moreover, I had long been yearning for the legendary place of Panjiayuan. There were no direct buses from Mohe to Beijing, so I had to take a train to Siping first, and then from Siping to Beijing West. It was over two thousand kilometers in total, taking over fifty hours. To save money, I chose the cheapest hard seat. I carried two large suitcases and a large backpack behind me. My hair was oily, and my clothes were shabby. Passengers at the station would occasionally point and whisper about me. I had never traveled far from home before; this was my first time taking a train alone.After buying the train ticket, I had less than a hundred yuan left. If I couldn't sell my stuff, I wouldn't even be able to afford the return ticket, let alone food. The food on the train was expensive, so I didn't dare to spend money. I just drank hot water with the cup I brought. When I got really hungry, I bought a bag of sesame twists for four yuan. It was my first time in Beijing as a rural kid, so everything was new to me. I even saw the security scanner at the train station for the first time. I was young at the time, but I wasn't afraid of strangers and dared to talk to people. I asked someone how to get to the Panjiayuan Antique Market. The ticket seller was very helpful; she told me to take the subway and even explained how to transfer. I took Line 9 from Beijing West Station, then transferred to Line 10 at Liuliqiao Station, and got off at Panjiayuan Station. Luckily, I had a good memory and didn't get lost. At that time, the subway fare was only two yuan, and nobody cared as long as you didn't exit the station. When I got off the subway, the sidewalk was full of anti-skid pits. It was tough dragging two big suitcases while carrying a backpack. After passing through Huawei Bridge, I finally saw the golden plaque standing outside the north gate. "Panjiayuan Flea Market." "Finally arrived..."