Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Rosewood

The old lady smiled but did not answer Xie Jiashan. Instead, she turned to Xie Jiabao and Xie Jiacheng and asked, “Second, Third, daughters-in-law, which pieces do you favor? Make your choices!”

The three daughters-in-law each selected one of the three jade ornaments from the desk, while Xie Jiabao and Xie Jiacheng chose two paintings from the collection.

The old lady then turned to Zhou Nan, “Nan-nan, which one do you like?”

Zhou Nan gently bit her little finger and then pointed to the Yixing teapot on the rootwood tea table, saying, “That one, the Yixing teapot!”

After she spoke, Zhou Nan stole a glance at Zhang Can and saw him frown slightly. Her heart sank—she’d made a mistake. It wasn’t the teapot. But there was only that item over there; if she was wrong, then what could it be?

The old lady’s smile deepened as she looked at Zhang Can and asked, “Young man, tell me, which item in my sitting room is the most valuable?”

Zhang Can smiled softly and turned to point at the tea set in the corner. “Madam, there are many valuable things in your sitting room—the paintings, jade ornaments, Yixing teapot, even those two rosewood chairs. They’re all worth something. But the most valuable is the dark wooden tray on the rootwood tea table, the one holding the Yixing teapot. That tray is the most valuable!”

Except for the old lady, everyone else was startled. The three brothers of the Xie family and their wives hadn’t expected Zhang Can to claim that the tray used for serving tea was the most valuable. When Zhou Nan had said the Yixing teapot was the most valuable, they were already uncertain; perhaps the teapot really was valuable. But at first, none of them had considered it. With antiques, the most precious items are usually hidden away, yet the teapot and cups had been used daily by the old master before he passed, and afterward, they were rarely touched, left in a corner. When the old lady occasionally brewed tea, they assumed she was reminiscing about her husband and paid it no mind.

But what value could that wooden tray possibly have? At most, it was just a small wooden tray—what could it be worth?

Everyone was full of questions, but it wasn’t Zhang Can’s word that counted; the old lady’s verdict was what mattered. All eyes turned to her.

At that moment, Xie Jiacheng’s son, Xie Yong, returned with a box of watchmaker’s tools—fine instruments for assembling and disassembling watches. But since the old lady was speaking, Xie Jiacheng simply set the toolkit on the tea table and didn’t ask Zhang Can to open the watch right away.

The old lady’s expression was inscrutable, leaving her sons and daughters-in-law unsure whether the correct item had been chosen. Zhou Nan, too, was uncertain, though deep down she trusted Zhang Can. His performance in the jewelry shop had amazed her; she knew that sort of skill and discernment was far beyond the ordinary. Typically, employees in a jewelry shop undergo rigorous training and must pass assessments before officially taking the job.

“Well, since you’ve all made your choices, I won’t say more. I’d like to hear Xiao Zhang’s explanation, his reasoning.” The old lady smiled at Zhang Can, inviting him to explain why he chose the wooden tray.

Zhang Can spread his hands and praised, “Madam, nearly everything in your sitting room is genuine—paintings, jade ornaments, brush holder, rosewood chairs, rootwood tea table, Yixing teapot, sandalwood tray—each is authentic, not a single fake among them.”

Everyone had just heard Zhang Can say the tray was the most valuable, but except for the old lady, no one understood what made it so. Now, hearing him name it as “sandalwood,” it sounded familiar but elusive—they couldn’t recall exactly what sandalwood was. Just a wooden tray; even if it was valuable, how valuable could it be?

Zhang Can had already scanned the sitting room with his keen eye; all these items were imprinted in his mind. He continued, “Of the six paintings, the one of galloping horses is the most valuable, though all six are modern works, not ancient paintings, and none are by the most renowned masters. The galloping horse painting is worth about twenty thousand, the other five range from several thousand each. The three jade ornaments chosen by the aunts: the brush holder is made of ink jade, average quality, roughly three thousand; the reclining Buddha is yellow jade, the carving average, the jade itself ordinary, about five thousand; the most valuable jade ornament is the rooster carved from chicken-blood stone, which cleverly uses the stone’s color. The craftsman’s skill is excellent, but the stone’s color and quality are only fair, so its price is reduced—about thirty thousand.”

He turned to the rosewood chairs. “Now, these two rosewood chairs are aged and made of genuine red sandalwood, though not the rarest kind. Together, they’re worth about twenty-five thousand. The rootwood tea table is carved with a reclining Buddha, arms embracing the tea tray and set—remarkably lifelike. The craftsmanship is superb, the rootwood is old yellowwood, aged three or four years. It’s a fine piece of art, and I’d value it at twenty thousand.”

The three Xie brothers and their wives stared in disbelief. They had never imagined that the items in the sitting room were each worth tens of thousands. They’d always thought the old lady kept the old master’s antiques locked away in the two large chests in the bedroom. They never realized the truly valuable pieces were right in front of them, untouched, all genuine and worth tens of thousands!

To their greater surprise, even the rootwood tea table was worth twenty thousand!

Zhang Can then gestured to the Yixing teapot. “Now, this Yixing tea set—one pot, six cups—is at least from before the late Qing dynasty, made in an official kiln. Both pot and cups bear the kiln’s mark, which is unmistakable…”

“Brother Zhang, are you saying all these things in my home are truly worth so much?” asked Xie Yong, Zhou Nan’s cousin, a junior high student, his face filled with curiosity.

Luckily, everyone else was absorbed in Zhang Can’s explanation and paid little mind to Xie Yong. In fact, Xie Yong was thinking he could trade something for cash and spend it with his friends.

Zhang Can smiled. “Now, that wooden tray is truly precious. You all know how high-end rosewood furniture is; this tray is also rosewood, but not the same kind as the chairs. It’s the most valuable type, called ‘purple sandalwood.’ Purple sandalwood is renowned for taking a thousand years to mature, and when it does, the trunk is twisted, rarely straight, with a maximum diameter of forty centimeters, which is already exceptional. Most mature purple sandalwood trunks are only twenty centimeters or so, and the trunks are twisted and riddled with hollows—there’s a saying, ‘ten sandalwoods, nine are hollow.’ Usable material is scarce, which makes it even more precious. Thus, purple sandalwood furniture is mostly small pieces—prayer beads, pendants, bracelets. This tray, look at it—its grain is contorted, purple-black, and though wooden, its weight is like cast iron. Even more rare, it’s about forty centimeters long and over thirty centimeters wide. In purple sandalwood, this is an exceptionally rare large piece. As for its price, I truly can’t say for sure…”

The old lady’s eyes shone with admiration, and Zhou Nan’s uncles and aunts were stunned, silent for a long moment. Xie Yong leaned forward and asked, “So how much is this tray worth? If it’s more valuable than the others, it must be at least eighty or a hundred thousand, right?”

Xie Yong had listened to the prices—paintings, teapot, cups, rootwood chairs—all worth tens of thousands, which made him itch with curiosity. Hearing the tray was even more valuable, he was more intrigued; it was small and easy to carry, so if the price was good, it would be easier to sneak out. He hurriedly asked its value.

Zhang Can pondered. He wasn’t too familiar with the true value of purple sandalwood, though he’d heard Old Su mention it before. Purple sandalwood was rarer than the golden-thread nanmu he’d retrieved from the river back home; the reason being, after maturity, nanmu trunks are large and straight, suitable for big furniture, whereas purple sandalwood’s trunks are twisted and hollow, unsuitable for large pieces. Therefore, purple sandalwood is even more precious.

After a moment’s thought, Zhang Can said, “I can’t give an exact price, but let me say this: purple sandalwood is mostly hollow, and a piece as large as this tray is exceedingly rare. A few years ago, a purple sandalwood lion sculpture about twenty centimeters long was auctioned in Jincheng for six hundred and sixty thousand. This tray, though it doesn’t match the lion’s carving, is larger and equally rare. Its price would be at least comparable!”

“Oh… over six hundred thousand? My goodness…”

Everyone in the hall gasped. The three Xie brothers and their wives were shocked, their faces changed. Though they were fairly well-off, six or seven hundred thousand was no trifling sum—mainly, the idea that this wooden tray was worth so much was beyond their imagination. They’d seen it every day, never considered it valuable, yet it was worth six or seven hundred thousand!

But was it as Zhang Can claimed? That was uncertain; the old lady’s confirmation was needed. She surely knew the value of the purple sandalwood tray.

The old lady’s smile slowly faded as she gazed at the tray in a daze.

She was silent, and the Xie brothers grew anxious. The three wives crowded in, all asking at once, “Mom, is that tray real? Is it worth that much?”

The old lady seemed lost in memory, as if she hadn’t heard. Zhou Nan and Xie Yong each took one of her arms and gently shook her until she came to.

She “oh’d,” looked at Zhang Can, remembered what had just happened, nodded, and then asked, “Young man, you say this tray is made of purple sandalwood. What proof do you have?”

With this question, all eyes focused sharply on Zhang Can, wondering what method he’d use to prove it, or whether he had no way at all—perhaps he was simply making it up and the tray was not purple sandalwood at all.