Zhou Shuming furrowed his brow tightly. There's a saying: in times of chaos, gold is prized; in times of peace, antiques are treasured. In 1927, only sixteen years after the Xinhai Revolution, the scholars who once prided themselves on selling their goods to the imperial family had barely been laid to rest. In these turbulent times, a gun or a bag of rice held more value than a book. Priceless rare books and precious paintings had seen their value plummet, and decaying private libraries were commonplace. Some unfilial descendants even sold off their family's treasures as scrap paper.
The twelve books in front of him had cost Zhou Shuming only 4,000 dollars, extorted from the Zhou family's library. Forty years ago, even his old scholar master would have eagerly traded a thousand bushels of rice for them. As he sipped his tea, Zhou Shuming raised his brow and said to Huang Xuan, "If you're not satisfied, Young Master Huang, I can find some more. But please keep the grain in the warehouse for a few more days."
"Just one day," Huang Xuan replied arrogantly, holding up a single finger. "I don't have much time to wait." He pointed to the last box and continued, "You can take these two volumes of the Spring and Autumn Annals from the Song Dynasty back as well. So, along with that useless emperor's book, you can take six volumes. You can either take 900 bushels of grain from the warehouse or 1,500 dollars per book. Is that agreeable?"
Huang Xuan had calculated the price based on 12 dollars per bushel, while the market price for rough rice had already risen to 18 dollars per bushel. Naturally, Zhou Shuming preferred the grain. His lips twitched before he composed himself. Grain is power, and he knew it. He bowed and took his leave, saying, "In that case, I'll go ahead and transport the grain, and Young Master Huang can await good news."
With just a few words, he was back to addressing himself as "old man." Huang Xuan sneered, gathered the books into the boxes, and left first.
…
The news of a foolish young noble from the capital buying rare books at ten times the market price spread from Ganpu to the entire Jiaxing Prefecture with the speed of interdimensional travel. In this turbulent era, such news was eagerly exaggerated by countless people, especially in Haining, Pinghu, and Haiyan counties, which were practically China's libraries.
"Did you hear? Book prices are going up! If you've got ancient books, you're going to strike it rich!"
…
"Rumor has it the Nationalist Government is building a library, like those Western ones, and they're spending enough money on books to buy hundreds of thousands of guns."
…
"I heard foreigners are trying to buy antiques from China. My cousin said he saw several ships full."
…
But Huang Xuan only had three days. Starting in the afternoon, people came one after another to see him. With only Jiang Yisheng by his side, he couldn't handle the flood of visitors, so he had to ask Shopkeeper Zhu for help. On the other hand, although many came, most were just chancing their luck, and some were outright schemers looking for a quick score. Concerned about trouble, the Zhu family wanted to invite Huang Xuan into town, but he refused. After six or seven hours of meeting people, he had finally sent away all the grain and most of the silver.
In the end, it was a few wealthy shopkeepers who brought genuine rare books. Huang Xuan had long since been overwhelmed by the choices and could only mechanically follow Lorin's appraisals, painfully selecting five more volumes, leaving himself with only a few hundred dollars.
As the sound of sweeping echoed from the open warehouse, Huang Xuan glanced again at Jiang Yisheng, who still wore his worn blue cloth jacket, the sleeves meticulously patched.
With the books in hand, Huang Xuan prepared to go home. As he was about to leave, he suddenly felt a pang of regret that he hadn't fully explored this fascinating era. Who knew if he would ever have another chance? Lorin's transmission capabilities were too limited, so returning here deliberately seemed impossible.
"Uncle," Huang Xuan said, after carefully packing the last of the silver dollars and wrapping the books in yellow silk. He then turned to Jiang Yisheng and said, "I've troubled you these past two days, and I feel bad about it."
Jiang Yisheng, unsure what to do, rubbed his hands together and mumbled, "Young Master Huang, you're too kind…"
"I told you not to call me Young Master Huang." Over the past two days, the town's prominent merchants had come to see Huang Xuan, and Jiang Yisheng had unconsciously developed a certain reverence for him, joining the others in calling him "Young Master Huang." At first, Huang Xuan didn't mind, but now that he was leaving, he shook his head and said, "Uncle Jiang, I'm leaving tonight. There are still some silver dollars left here; consider them payment for these past two days."
Jiang Yisheng was so flustered he didn't know where to put his hands. He stammered, "This… this isn't right…"
"Let's leave it at that. Please convey my thanks to Old Master Jiang." With that, Huang Xuan walked out of the room. By the time Jiang Yisheng hurried out to thank him, he only saw a flash of white light.
…
Huang Xuan found himself back in the pavilion in his backyard, stark naked, with only the yellow silk cloth in his hands. He nostalgically looked around and grumbled, "Lorin, you didn't have to be this frugal. You didn't even send my clothes over?"
"To keep your time in P112 under 24 hours, I had to consume a significant amount of energy. Conserving energy is necessary to ensure the base operates normally."
Lorin's usual flat tone actually made Huang Xuan feel a sense of warmth. If only he had another piece of cloth to cover himself, he might have thanked Lorin. But the reality was what it was. Huang Xuan looked outside; it seemed to be dawn. He glanced at the eleven books in his hands and finally made a decision.
To protect humanity's cultural heritage, he decided to wrap the books in silk and… walk out naked.
Actually, the distance from the pavilion to his bedroom wasn't that far, Huang Xuan reassured himself.
"Remember to replenish the energy." Lorin left a cold, indifferent comment before disappearing into the void. Only Huang Xuan remained, frantically checking his computer and phone to confirm the era he was in, to avoid being sent to some unknown dimension by a faulty machine. According to Lorin, this kind of mishap has happened in history. Ah, such an honest machine.
The courtyard was silent, with only the lights in the kitchen of the annex still on, likely indicating that the cook was preparing breakfast. That meant it wasn't yet time for his parents to go to work. Huang Xuan carefully locked the door, pulled out a box that came with a book he once bought, and placed the million-dollar ancient books inside one by one, cushioning each with yellow silk. Finally, he took out the topmost volume, The Northern Song Dynasty Official Documents, wrapped it in a pillowcase, and placed it in a separate box.
After finishing all this, the sky had yet to fully brighten. Huang Xuan yawned, crawled a few steps, and comfortably collapsed onto his bed. Over the past two days, he had been sleeping in the warehouse's gatehouse, and the stone-hard bed alone was enough to keep him wide awake, not to mention the smell.