Chapter 8

After finishing the "reunion" dinner, Xiaowan and the other two went to school. Xue Xiang moved the food and dishes he had bought to the kitchen, and then devoured the leftover buns and fried dough sticks in a frenzy, consuming about three pounds. Xue Xiang made himself a cup of tea, leaned back on the sofa, and propped his legs up on the dining table, beginning to ponder his future. He didn't know where he was heading, although he had set his sights on making a name for himself, he was unsure where to settle down. He decided to take it one step at a time.

Xue Xiang suppressed his anxiety. A tall building rises from the ground, and he decided to focus on the most pressing matter at hand—eating. Ultimately, it was still a matter of money. Despite "robbing" a group of motorcyclists and seizing over a hundred yuan, he had already spent most of it. Adding the thirty or so yuan he originally had, he had barely a hundred yuan left. He still needed to provide for his three younger siblings, and this amount wouldn't last long. Although the Revolutionary Committee provided them with a monthly living allowance of about sixty yuan, it was enough to cover their basic needs, but far from the life he envisioned. Xue Xiang didn't want his family to join the beggars. He had no intention of living a frugal life; after all, he had decades more experience than the people of his time. If he couldn't even support his younger siblings, he might as well find a block of tofu and bash his head against it.

There were very few ways to make money in this era, and modern commercial methods were out of the question. The old lady had to go to the acquisition station to sell eggs, and chickens could only be raised in small numbers, yielding about thirty eggs a month. Robbing motorcyclists was a quick way to make money, but they weren't fools and wouldn't keep bumping into him. He couldn't just go out to catch them.

Xue Xiang thought and thought but couldn't come up with a solution. His head ached, and he kicked the edge of the dining table in frustration. The table crashed to the ground, and Xue Xiang quickly got up to help. This was one of the few "tables" in the house, and breaking it would make eating difficult. When he tried to lift it, it didn't budge. He had to use more strength to lift the table. Xue Xiang was curious and lifted one corner of the table with his left hand, estimating it to weigh about two hundred pounds. What kind of wood was this heavy? Xue Xiang examined the table closely. It was about fifteen centimeters long and ten centimeters wide, with a yellow paint finish that obscured the grain. He flipped the table over and observed the back. The color was dark purple, with long, twisted patterns resembling the hair on a cow's back. He could faintly smell a fragrant aroma. This was none other than the famous rosewood from the future! Xue Xiang was overjoyed.

Although Xue Xiang wasn't a professional in antiques and appraisal in his previous life, he was a passionate collector. He had watched every episode of the popular CCTV show "Treasure Hunt." Xue Xiang was particularly fond of rosewood and knew its basic characteristics. He was certain this was a rosewood table. If it were ceramics or paintings, he might have been unsure, as the techniques for aging and faking these antiques had reached a pinnacle over the centuries, even fooling experts at the Palace Museum. However, rosewood, with its distinctive grain and color, could be identified at a glance, and its weight confirmed it. The yellow paint on the table was clearly meant to conceal its true nature, and a fake wouldn't go to such lengths. Xue Xiang carefully scraped off a small piece of paint from the table leg, revealing a satin-like luster. The rosewood was confirmed.

Rosewood is one of the most precious woods in the world, known for its hardness, density, and weight. It sinks in water and is the top choice for furniture, favored by royalty and nobility. It is highly prized by scholars and officials. Rosewood grows slowly, with a diameter of only about fifteen centimeters, and its trunk is often twisted and hollow, making it difficult to use. Therefore, rosewood items of this size are extremely rare. The famous red-topped merchant Hu Xueyan of the late Qing Dynasty owned a large rosewood table, which he treasured. This table changed hands several times over a century and was eventually acquired by the imperial collection in 2000.

At this time, rosewood was valuable but not as exorbitant as it would become in the future. Xue Xiang knew that the future price of rosewood would be terrifying, increasing by more than ten thousand times. He didn't plan to sell the rosewood table. First, he loved rosewood and had never owned it in his previous life, so he couldn't bear to part with it. Second, the appearance of rosewood opened a new way to make money—antique trading.

Although private business was not allowed, selling personal items was not prohibited. With a household registration book, one could sell items at a consignment shop. Xue Xiang's plan was to "quietly enter the village, without firing a gun," by scouring old houses in the alleys and suburban villages, buying items at low prices, and selling them at consignment shops in the city. Although it was speculative, the risk was low if he was careful.

While thinking about antique trading, Xue Xiang remembered another incident.

It was eight years ago, during the height of the Cultural Revolution. The young revolutionaries in the city were raiding homes and arresting people. His uncle, who was not yet under attack, had a son named Xue Dangkou, who was the leader of a rebel group. At eight years old, Xue Xiang followed Xue Dangkou around, joining in the chaos. One day, they raided the home of a university professor, who was in his seventies and had no children. The professor's home was filled with books. Xue Xiang still remembered the scene vividly. Walking into the house was like entering a sea of paper and books. The house was extremely simple, with no kitchen or bedroom, only a small bathroom. The spacious room was filled with seven or eight large bookshelves, each packed with books. A small bed was placed among the bookshelves, as if he slept in a sea of books. When they raided his home, Xue Dangkou's group of a dozen people arrived with seven or eight small carts. The professor tried to stop them from taking the books, but he was no match for the "revolutionary youth" and was quickly subdued. They found a large black wooden box under his bed, locked with a large iron lock. The group was excited, thinking it contained valuables. They demanded the key, but the professor refused. Xue Dangkou didn't waste time and chopped the lock with an axe. The professor fainted as soon as the lock was cut. The group rushed forward, expecting to find gold and silver, but the box contained only two porcelain bottles, a painting, and a few books. They felt cheated and decided to bury the "bourgeois remnants" along with the books. They took the items to a mass grave on the outskirts of the city, where they buried the professor and burned the books.

It was a windy and gloomy day. The books were piled high, and the fire burned for a long time. The young revolutionaries grew impatient and left, leaving Xue Xiang and another boy to watch the fire. The wind was strong, and the sky grew darker. After a while, the fire was almost out, and the two boys, tired of waiting, decided to go home. They dragged the black box to the fire and pushed it in. Suddenly, a heavy rain started, extinguishing the fire. The rain came and went quickly, and the two boys, drenched, found a deep pit and pushed the box into it, covering it with a little soil.

A few days later, Xue Xiang heard that the professor had died and was buried in the mass grave. Later, he learned that the professor was a history teacher at the university, a stubborn old man who refused to repent and hanged himself the day they raided his home.

The sealed memory piqued Xue Xiang's curiosity. He felt that the contents of the black box were not simple and decided to investigate the mass grave that night.

Xue Xiang checked the time; it was already nine o'clock. He tidied up the hall, moved the rosewood table to his room, and decided to keep it as a treasure. The rosewood table's days as a dining table were over, but a new problem arose: how to eat. Easy! The great leader taught us to be self-reliant. Xue Xiang decided to make a new dining table. He found a hammer, nails, and some wood in the storage room and started hammering. After a while, a new parallelogram-shaped table was born. However, the legs were all tilted in one direction, and the table couldn't stand. As soon as he let go, it collapsed. Theory and practice always have a gap, and self-reliance might still lead to poverty, Xue Xiang thought to himself.

As Xue Xiang was worrying about the new table, Lei Xiaotian and the other six arrived.