Chapter 26

"What do you mean by that?"

Seeing the old man throw the soap into the water, Qin Feng squinted his eyes and shook his head, saying, "Old Xia, I’m here to help in the kitchen, not to pick up your soap. If you think I’m not doing a good job, you can send me back!"

The old man’s action would have left most people puzzled, but Qin Feng, who had wandered the streets for years, immediately understood the old man’s intention.

The soap had been used for so long that only a coin-sized piece remained, slippery and hard to grasp, let alone pick up with two fingers. According to what Qin Feng knew, this was a basic skill for pickpockets. Although he had never seen it, he had heard about it from his fellow scavengers in Cangzhou.

Everyone has their own principles to live by. As the saying goes, "Three years old, and you can see how they’ll grow old." Qin Feng was smart from a young age, and his father, who worked in education, had strict discipline at home. He never took anything that didn’t belong to him.

Over the years, he would rather endure hunger with his sister than steal a single cent from anyone. This was Qin Feng’s principle and the bottom line he held firm to.

It’s important to note that pickpockets have a terrible reputation in society. Although Qin Feng was now in a juvenile detention center, he had never considered himself a criminal. When the old man asked him to practice pickpocketing techniques, Qin Feng was instantly furious.

"Huh? You know a lot, don’t you?"

The old man looked at Qin Feng’s expression but didn’t get angry. Instead, he said with a playful tone, "Come on, tell me, what’s the deal with picking up soap?"

"Why ask when you already know?"

Qin Feng pursed his lips and said, "Picking up soap with your fingers, isn’t that just to improve finger dexterity? You must have been an eighth-level machinist before you came here, right?"

For a long time after the liberation, factory technicians were the most sought-after professionals in cities. An eighth-level machinist was a highly skilled talent, on par with today’s senior engineers. However, in society, the term "machinist" also had another meaning: "thief." Qin Feng was referring to the latter.

"Old Xia, did you come here because of this?" Qin Feng’s gaze toward the old man changed.

Although the old man had never told Qin Feng about his past, Qin Feng had learned some things through other channels. Old Xia had been sent to this prison in the early 1960s, and he was imprisoned for twenty years, being released in the early 1980s. After an investigation, it was found that his case was somewhat unjust, but with many wrongful cases at the time, the government only compensated him with some money and planned to send him back to his hometown.

However, unexpectedly, the old man returned to the prison a month later, saying that everyone in his hometown had died, and he had nowhere to go. Since the government had wronged him, they should be responsible for his old age.

This situation was quite common in that era. Many prisoners sent to remote prisons were incarcerated for thirty to forty years and, when they grew old, chose to stay in the prison rather than return home, often doing odd jobs around the prison.

In some remote areas in the northwest, entire towns had even formed due to the concentration of these released prisoners.

No one knew how the old man convinced the prison leadership, but he was allowed to stay, working in the fields and helping in the kitchen, essentially living out his old age.

However, from Qin Feng’s perspective, the government might not have wronged the old man. He might have been a seasoned thief, which is why he suggested Qin Feng practice these techniques.

"Heh, you usually seem like a quiet guy, but your words are sharp," the old man said, not getting angry. "You’re right, this is a technique for thievery. Although you’re a bit old, you’ve practiced martial arts, so your finger dexterity is still good."

"Thievery? That’s just a fancy word for stealing," Qin Feng shook his head and said firmly, "I won’t learn this!"

When he and his sister were scavenging, they were often mistaken for thieves. The disdainful and wary looks they received were still fresh in his mind.

"You’re talented, but your thinking is like an old scholar’s, so rigid," the old man frowned, seeing Qin Feng’s expression. He had learned many skills, ranging from thievery to various other arts. Many people in the past had wanted to learn from him, but he had never accepted them. Now, he was being rejected by this young man.

"My father taught me to be upright and never to do anything dishonest," Qin Feng said. For his sister, he had scavenged and helped with farming, but even in the hardest times, he had never considered stealing. How could he learn these tricks from the old man?

"Brat, the art of thievery has been passed down for a thousand years. In your mouth, it’s just stealing. Do you even know what thievery is?" The old man was at a loss, seeing Qin Feng’s stubborn face. He had only one disciple in his life, who had deeply hurt him. Now, he wanted to pass on his skills to a final disciple, but Qin Feng had rejected him outright.

According to the rules of the underworld, a master must carefully select their disciples, and disciples also have the right to choose their master. Qin Feng was not interested in learning, let alone becoming a disciple.

"Stealing is stealing. I won’t learn it. If you want to report me to the prison, go ahead. I’ll just serve a few more years," Qin Feng, though young, was firm in his resolve.

"You’re a stubborn brat..."

The old man shook his head helplessly and said, "Follow me. I’ll tell you a story. You can decide whether to learn after that."

"You can talk until you’re blue in the face, but I won’t learn!" Qin Feng pursed his lips but followed the old man, curious about him. At the very least, the old man’s martial arts skills were impressive.

The old man wasn’t worried about Qin Feng running away. He led him to the prison staff’s living area, pushed open a gate, and they entered a house with a main room and two bedrooms.

"Sit down. This is where I live," the old man said, sitting in a large armchair in the main room.

"Old Xia, you’re higher up than Director Hu, living in your own house?"

Qin Feng looked at Old Xia curiously. Such houses were usually given to families, and it seemed odd for the old man to have one all to himself.

"Wow, made of high-quality huanghuali?"

When Qin Feng saw the chair the old man was sitting in, his eyes widened. Looking at the table beside it, he almost drooled.

"Old Xia, you’re really extravagant, aren’t you?"

He wiped the dusty table with his sleeve and looked at the old man suspiciously. "These things, didn’t you steal them?"

Liu Lao, from Cangzhou, came from a wealthy family and had a deep understanding of antique furniture. In the last six months of his life, he had taught Qin Feng a lot about it.

The chair and table were made of high-quality huanghuali wood. From the style, craftsmanship, and carvings, they appeared to be from the Ming Dynasty.

Huanghuali was introduced to China during Zheng He’s voyages to the Western Seas. Initially used as ballast, it was later used for furniture due to its fine texture and fragrant aroma. Huanghuali furniture became popular during the Ming Dynasty, leading to extensive deforestation in neighboring countries. By the Qing Dynasty, large pieces of huanghuali were rare, making Ming Dynasty huanghuali furniture particularly valuable.

Although people in 1993 were not yet wealthy, Qin Feng knew that a well-preserved set of Ming Dynasty huanghuali furniture could sell for at least ten thousand yuan in the antique market in Beijing.

The old man’s set, which should have included two chairs, was worth at least three to five thousand yuan, a significant sum at the time.

If he had seen this furniture in the Liu family’s old house, Qin Feng wouldn’t have been surprised, but seeing it in the old man’s house, especially after what had just happened, it was natural for him to suspect that the old man had stolen it.

"Rubbish, why would I steal? I bought these with real money!"

The old man’s years in prison had softened his temper, but Qin Feng’s words had truly angered him. Not only had he been rejected as a master, but he was also accused of being a thief?

"That’s not right. How do you know about this stuff? Weren’t you just a scavenger?"

The old man suddenly stopped and looked at Qin Feng with surprise, realizing that the young man was more knowledgeable than he had thought.

"I learned from someone. Don’t ask who."

Thinking of the late Liu Lao, Qin Feng felt a pang of sadness. After his family’s misfortune, he had only felt the care of an elder from Liu Lao. Although Liu Lao hadn’t taken him as a disciple, he had mourned for him for seven days, just like Liu Zimo.

"You have some discernment..."

The old man didn’t press further, waving his hand. "Look around. What do you think of the other things in my room?"

To be honest, Qin Feng’s knowledge of antiques was more of a pleasant surprise than a shock to the old man. It was an important skill he planned to teach Qin Feng.

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PS: Second chapter, 2,000 more recommendation votes for an extra update. I’m working hard, friends. A few free votes would be a great help, a win-win situation!