Chapter 90: The Highest Realm of Cultivation and Well-Being

After the meal, he set down his chopsticks and let Tiger Xia eat next. Xia Long brewed the Longjing tea he carried with him and took a sip to cut the richness, then said casually, “Noodle pulling is a real craft. When the line of people bends and winds like a dragon, each order asks for a different amount; however many taels you want, that is how many taels are pulled.”

“When serving it into the bowl, it must not carry water, and it must not splash broth. When you shake the noodles free, they rise from the water, then you catch them in the chopsticks, dip them once into the little wire strainer, shake twice, flip twice, roll them tight, and form them into what is called a bodhisattva’s head.”

“When you bring them to the bowl, they must not drag in water. The noodles should lie like stacked tiles, with a slight rise in the middle; in the trade, that is called a crucian carp back.”

In Suzhou noodle shops, the noodles may only be dropped into the pot after the customer has bought the ticket. People wait for noodles, but noodles do not wait for people. Everyone waits for noodles; no one eats noodles that have waited for people.

The finest moment is the first bite. A lingering, fresh sweetness seems to flow from the tip of the tongue all the way down the throat, so that one remembers the taste of the broth at once.

Leaning back in the chair, calm and unhurried, eating noodles here feels like a return to simplicity, as though the pace of life itself has slowed. In an elegant old establishment, you eat the most authentic bowl of noodle soup while listening to the exquisite sounds of the zither and lute, savoring a moment of quiet...

When they stepped outside and got into the car, Tiger Xia asked, “Boss, do we keep touring the gardens this afternoon?”

Zhuang Chen waved a hand. “To the rosewood furniture market. We’ll pick out a few sets of Ming-style furniture.”

That too was part of the plan. Suzhou had, since ancient times, produced master craftsmen. Carving, embroidery, mounting, round fans, qipao—yet the most classic of all was still classical furniture, something the master could never forget.

He always went on about how, once he had money, he would replace all the furniture with rosewood and huanghuali, all of it pure Ming style. That was what you called imposing.

He had a deep impression of such things. When he had nothing to do, he liked to browse all kinds of furniture auctions. Good heavens, the prices could soar into the millions. In 2012, a court-made Ming-dynasty huanghuali official’s chair sold for an astonishing price of 69.44 million. It was enough to leave one speechless.

In fact, at the international auction market, top collectors recognize only two hard currencies: porcelain, and classical furniture.

In earlier years there was Wang Shixiang, the capital’s foremost connoisseur. Now there is Ye Chengyao, the king of huanghuali in Hong Kong. After him came Wu Jiaen and the American collector Eskenazi, all famous names.

As for rosewood, there was no need to mention it: Chen Lihua was the grande dame, first at the Palace Museum, second to none.

Before, he had only looked. Now that the chance had come, even if he did not spend a fortune on antiques, he at least needed to bring home a few high-quality replicas and place them in his Jiangnan residence. The faint fragrance filling the rooms, that feeling...

They arrived at the rosewood market and found the largest shop, where the owner eagerly led them on a tour. There were, in fact, three major schools of furniture making: the capital workshop tradition in the north, the Cantonese school in the south, and yet he still preferred the Suzhou school.

“You truly have good taste. The Suzhou school is designed by scholars and made by craftsmen; it is the crystallization born of cooperation between the two, the school that best embodies literati feeling...”

“Feel the armrest of this official’s hat chair. Between the round seat and the square body, everything relies entirely on mortise-and-tenon joinery. After hundreds or thousands of rounds of polishing, the fit is seamless, so tight that not even a sliver of space remains, with a texture as smooth as silk...”

“The master cuts the required timber entirely according to the furniture pattern book. Every component is measured and recorded: the back rail, armrests, backrest, apron rail, leg stretchers...”

“A simplest Ming-style southern official’s hat chair requires at least forty-two components. In making it, the rule is that each component must come from the same tree!”

“Rest assured, it will never crack!” the owner said with great confidence. “During the de-moisturizing process, the wood is soaked for as long as half a year in a special wax solution. After treatment, the timber becomes even finer, and the water molecules are essentially completely evaporated.”

“Try this four-sided armchair as well. The legs, waist stretcher, and apron rail all use arm-clasp joinery. It is our master craftsman’s unique skill, famed for standing firm for a thousand years.”

“You are an expert, so I’ll skip the nonsense. In this trade, people value one chiseling, two carving, and seven polishing. I dare say polishing alone takes seven-tenths of the entire making process.”

“The most traditional polishing method uses thorn grass. First apply wax, then rub repeatedly with thorn grass and fine gauze until it shines like brocade. After that, the masters hand-polish it again with three-thousand-grit wet sandpaper, bringing out the deeply hidden grain of the rosewood layer by layer, with utmost finesse.”

Zhuang Chen came to a huanghuali side table. It was a single board of large eighty-centimeter stock. Though Vietnamese timber, it was still rare even in its place of origin.

What he loved most was the pleasing orange-gold hue of huanghuali, especially the cross-section, with its wholly natural grain like some divine handiwork from a legendary valley. At times it resembled mountains and flowing water, at others mist and drifting clouds. Craftsmen, intoxicated by it, entrusted their meaning to ax and chisel, using their hands to the fullest, and thus brought Ming-style furniture to life with effortless grace.

Because it preserves the most natural and primitive state, a piece of furniture can reconnect people who have drifted farther and farther from nature with the natural world again. It is the heart’s longing for nature.

At the center of the study stood the largest piece, a painting table. Behind it, in the middle, was a tall official’s hat chair, and farther back, a row of bookcases set against the wall.

Along the side were a pair of round-backed chairs, a tall cabinet for books, and a low square table, creating through simplicity the beauty of uneven heights and layered balance. There was also the round stool before the painting table, and a qin table that echoed the round chairs from afar.

Every carved stroke must be a stroke that brings radiance; every carved stroke is rendered to the greatest possible degree of imagery and abstraction. A few lines become a peony of wealth and honor, a few lines become blessing and fulfillment, a few lines become the plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum. Seemingly simple carved lines trace out boundless imagination.

Sitting in the round chair, the backrest fit the human body perfectly. Whether the material was huanghuali, rosewood, or something else, it pursued a rounded, supple feel. No matter where one touched it, the hand slid off without resistance.

Especially huanghuali, like a baby’s skin, like a beauty of jade!

Drawing a deep breath, fragrance lingered in the nose. Some scents were grand and weighty, like a cup of fragrant Pu'er; others felt like an aged spirit from a cellar. Some flowed smoothly like a babbling brook; others were intricate yet never chaotic, like a patch of auspicious clouds...

He opened his eyes and asked, “Do you have a daybed?”

Nine million for a complete set of study furniture, including two large beds. Load them straight onto the truck and take them back to Jiangnan Residence. Throw out the old junk and replace everything with new pieces.

A room full of huanghuali. Lying on the bed, every breath carried the scent of nature. It refreshed the mind, soothed the spirit, and regulated the breath. At last he understood why the Palace Museum was filled with rosewood and huanghuali.

Damn it,

even breathing felt like a regimen of health and longevity!