Chapter Two: Jade Ewer in Spring

"Xiao Zhang, where is the item? Can I come take a look now?"

Old Su's voice jolted Zhang Can out of his thoughts. He hurriedly replied, "Old Su, I'll talk to you later, I have something to take care of right now!" With that, he hung up the phone.

At this moment, Zhang Can certainly couldn't let Old Su come see the item first. Old Su was an old hand at this, and far wealthier than him. If the country fellow wanted to sell, he would naturally pick whoever offered the better price. Old Su's involvement would definitely not be to his advantage.

Zhang Can quickly turned to the countryman and said, "Brother, how about this: let's not talk about the price just yet. You and your nephew come with me to a hotel and stay for a while. I'll cover all your expenses for food and lodging, whether the deal goes through or not. Then I'll have a friend authenticate the piece—if it's confirmed, we'll discuss the price. How does that sound?"

The countryman hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Alright, but let me make this clear first—all expenses are on you. My nephew and I need three boxed meals each per day, not a meal less!"

Zhang Can couldn't help but laugh—these were country folks, all right. He agreed without hesitation, "No problem, it's all on me!"

Familiar with Jincheng, Zhang Can led the uncle and nephew out of the alley, hailed a taxi, and took them to a hotel far from the antique market, near the North Gate.

During their conversation, Zhang Can learned the man's name was He Fugui, and his nephew was He Bao. After settling them into the hotel room, Zhang Can bought each of them a twenty-yuan boxed meal and a big bag of drinks.

Inside the room, He Fugui generously let Zhang Can take as many photos as he wanted. Finally, Zhang Can turned the porcelain vase over and, using the tip of a small knife, scraped a tiny bit of powder from the small vent on the bottom of the vase. He wrapped it carefully in paper and tucked it into his pocket.

"Brother He, here's two hundred yuan for you. If I don't come by, use it to buy yourself something to eat and drink. I'll also write down my phone number for you," Zhang Can said, handing over the cash and his number, repeatedly reminding them not to wander around and to stay in the hotel as much as possible.

After that, Zhang Can hurried over to Old Su's place on Antique Street, connected his phone to the computer, and brought up the photos. He had taken over seventy pictures from every possible angle for a detailed inspection. Enlarged on the computer screen, they were crystal clear.

Old Su immediately began examining each photo carefully while Zhang Can waited anxiously at his side. Old Su studied them with utmost seriousness, his face betraying no emotion.

Half an hour later, Old Su finally took off his reading glasses, turned to Zhang Can, and said, "Xiao Zhang, how should I put this... Judging by the glaze, the patterns, the color, and the shape, this is a high-quality Blue-and-White Yuhuchun vase from the Hongwu period of the Ming Dynasty. There's no mark on the base. Blue-and-white vases from the Song and Yuan periods usually have marks, and their necks are longer and slimmer than those of the Ming. The style of your vase is beautiful, the glaze is lovely and delicate, and the base is also glazed. Song and Yuan blue-and-whites lack both marks and glaze on the base. Judging by all this, this should be a Blue-and-White Yuhuchun vase from the Hongwu period of the Ming."

Zhang Can's heart finally settled. Even though it wasn't fully confirmed, he felt much more at ease. He asked, "Old Su, if this vase is genuine, how much would it be worth?"

Old Su pulled up another picture on the computer—a Yuhuchun vase that looked slightly different in shape and had a somewhat lighter color. "Look, this vase is of lesser color. It was auctioned last year at Yongjia Auctions in Shanghai and fetched a final price of 2.68 million yuan. Your vase is in better condition. If it's confirmed genuine, it's worth at least six million."

Zhang Can breathed heavily—six million! That was more than enough for him to be content with.

Old Su frowned and sighed, "It's a pity. If you could scrape a little powder from the glaze at the base for dating, we could be certain."

Zhang Can grinned and, with a chuckle, pulled out the paper packet from his pocket. "Old Su, I already prepared that. Take a look, test it!"

Old Su was taken aback, then delighted. "That's excellent. ...Xiao Chen, come test this!"

Xiao Chen was a new hire, a university graduate with strong skills in chemistry and physics. The shop had specifically hired him for testing and even bought a set of equipment for authentication.

In the testing room, Xiao Chen switched on the powerful lamp. Zhang Can and Old Su watched closely—especially Zhang Can, who didn't dare blink, fearing that even Xiao Chen's breath might blow away the tiny bit of powder.

Fortunately, Xiao Chen was a professional—he wore a mask and worked carefully under the lamp. He put some liquid into a vessel, added some chemical elements, and finally placed the porcelain powder inside. After setting it on the testing platform, he turned on the machine.

Once done, Xiao Chen stepped back, removed his mask, and explained, "The powder will react in a mixture of chemicals. The instrument will transmit the test data to the computer, and the computer will print out the results. A few years ago, we didn't have this kind of equipment; everything had to be done manually, which took days. Now, with advanced technology, we'll have results in half an hour—just wait a bit."

Though it was only half an hour, for Zhang Can it felt like years—he was even more nervous than when Old Su had examined the photos. Back then, Old Su could not be certain from photos alone, but now the result would determine whether the vase was truly valuable.

At long last, the printer began to hum. Xiao Chen took the printout and examined it, while Zhang Can peeked over his shoulder. All he could see were values like "pH" and other technical terms he didn't understand, so he waited for Xiao Chen's explanation.

After a while, Xiao Chen said, "According to the computer analysis, the powder's age is between six hundred and six hundred and fifty years."

It took a moment for Zhang Can to react. Six hundred years ago—that would be the 1360s, exactly during the Hongwu reign of Zhu Yuanzhang.

Old Su nodded. "That's right, it's confirmed as genuine..." After a long pause, he turned to the dazed Zhang Can and continued, "Xiao Zhang, where did you get these photos—and that powder? Did you really stumble upon such a windfall? Are you interested in selling?"

Old Su smiled and lowered his voice, "Xiao Zhang, if you're willing to sell, I can speak for my boss. Six and a half million—how about it?"

Zhang Can grinned foolishly, at a loss for words, then nodded and cupped his hands in farewell. "Old Su, I'll be going for now. I'll let you know once I've sorted things out."

Zhang Can quickly returned to his rented room and took out his bankbook—he had 224,000 yuan in savings, the fruit of three years of hard work. He had planned to save a bit more this year for a down payment on a suburban house and then spend the next decade or so as a mortgage slave. But now, if this deal went through, what was a house compared to this? Even at six million, he could live comfortably for the rest of his life.

But he was still short. He only had 220,000, but He Fugui was asking for 300,000—there was no way he'd lower the price, and Zhang Can had to act quickly; if word got out, someone else might snatch the deal away.

With no time to lose, Zhang Can called his hometown, asking his father to urgently gather 80,000 yuan and send it—he promised to pay it back in a few days.

That night, his father called back. The family only had a little over 30,000 yuan, so they would have to borrow almost 50,000—on high interest, from a local moneylender: 5,000 yuan interest per month, a whopping ten percent.

Zhang Can was overjoyed and urged his father to wire the money as soon as possible. Five thousand in interest was nothing—he would soon make a thousand times that.

That night, Zhang Can was too excited to sleep, lying awake until dawn, and then dozing off for a bit before being woken by his cellphone.

It was He Fugui, calling to say he needed to talk urgently, face to face.

Zhang Can hurried to the North Gate hotel. When he entered the room and saw both He Fugui and his nephew He Bao, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Brother He, what's the matter?"

He Fugui looked troubled. "Boss, I really feel bad saying this. My third uncle called—he says we can't sell the vase for less than 350,000. Someone has already offered him that much in cash. But I told him you're a good boss, and if both offers are the same, I'd rather sell to you."

Zhang Can felt his heart sink as he looked at He Fugui's determined expression—there would be no more concessions. He hesitated, then gritted his teeth. "Fine, 350,000 it is. Brother He, you won't change your mind again, will you? If you do, I... I really can't... ha, just can't do it..."

He Fugui clapped his hands, "Don't worry. If my third uncle hadn't insisted, I'd have sold for 300,000. I promised him on the phone—no matter what others say, 350,000 is final."

Although He Fugui had raised the price by 50,000, what was that compared to the minimum of 6.5 million Old Su had quoted? And Old Su even hinted the price could go higher—Zhang Can decided not to be greedy; 6.5 million was enough for him.

Over the next two days, Zhang Can sold everything he owned—computer, TV, anything with value. He borrowed money from friends, scraped together 50,000, and received the 80,000 his family sent.

He withdrew the 220,000 from his bankbook, added the other 130,000, packed it all up, and took a cab straight to the North Gate hotel after leaving the bank.