I've finally managed to temporarily subdue these two adversaries. I then found another set of clothes for Qin Shi Huang to change into. After all, he's a worldly man, and he could tell the quality was better than his as soon as he put the clothes on. When Jing Ke told him that he should wear his underwear inside his clothes, Qin Shi Huang readily agreed and took the opportunity to show his friendliness towards Jing Ke.
Then the three of us (awkward, right?) cleaned up the warehouse, and I moved in a simple spring bed to temporarily serve as Qin Shi Huang's presidential suite. Qin Shi Huang's curiosity far surpassed that of Jing Ke. After asking a barrage of questions, Jing Ke answered for me: "This is the celestial realm; you wouldn't understand even if I explained."
Mindset determines everything, and Fatty Ying quickly became addicted to television. He was originally watching "Lecture Room" on Han Fei, but I quickly changed the channel for him to watch "Meteor Garden".
The commotion upstairs finally subsided. I fiddled with the knife I had confiscated from Jing Ke, and when I went downstairs, I found that my deputy manager, Lao Pan, was already waiting for me.
Chapter Five: Qin Dynasty Band
Old Pan is attending his friend's daughter's wedding today. The restaurant isn't far from here, so I thought I'd stop by and check it out.
Old Pan was an ordinary middle-aged man with sparse hair slicked back and a protruding belly. He usually wore T-shirts and casual pants that he and his wife had haggled over at the street store. His leather shoes were polished until they were matted. He had one or two designer suits to save face, wore brown mirrors, and spoke with a capable air, like a businessman who had made a little money. You could also say that he was a small section chief in the municipal government.
Actually, Lao Pan was no ordinary person. He graduated from the second or third cohort of China University of Geosciences, majoring in archaeology. University students of that era were truly the cream of the crop, almost all possessing unique skills, and Lao Pan was among the best. If he had continued in his field, we would certainly see him on television today, perhaps involved in the salvage of the "Nanhai No. 1" shipwreck. Unfortunately, Lao Pan couldn't resist the temptation of the entrepreneurial wave of the 1990s. He initially thought he could rely on his skills to be as unrestrained as a crab, but after several losses, he became as timid as a turtle. In my opinion, his losses were entirely self-inflicted: he abandoned his profession and followed two men from Fujian to dabble in watches.
After 2000, he returned to his original profession, collecting antiques and appraising them for others. His monthly income was unstable, but he managed to make a comfortable living. He was my deputy manager in name only; he didn't receive a salary, but only took a 2% commission from the appraised items.
Old Pan handed me a "Yuxi" cigarette. I placed the knife on the coffee table, took it, and lit it. Before I could even respond, Old Pan's eyes were already fixed on the knife—it's natural for someone with such profound archaeological knowledge to be attracted to an ancient sword from the Warring States period. He casually picked up the knife, then hunched over as if he'd been punched, taking off his glasses as if he wanted to crawl into the blade.
I quickly snatched it and stuffed it into my pocket, changing the subject, "A fruit knife, what's there to see?" Old Pan pointed at my nose with his two yellowed, cigarette-stained fingers: "Give it to me!" I noticed his voice trembled slightly. I took out Jing Ke's knife and tossed it in the air twice, jokingly saying, "You don't think this is an antique, do you?"
It seems that Lao Pan was ultimately fooled by me. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, chuckled self-deprecatingly, and said, "Maybe I'm just being paranoid. How could you possibly have something from the Warring States period? Although the style and texture are very similar, there's no oxidation reaction at all. I misjudged it."
I fiddled with the knife, casually asking, "If there really was an ancient sword from the Warring States period, how much would it fetch?" Old Pan adjusted his glasses and said jokingly, "If you sold something from the Warring States period, no matter who you sold it to, you'd be breaking the law. If it left the country, I'm afraid I'd never see you again. National regulations strictly prohibit the export of antiquities from before 1795. You can calculate how many years it was from the Warring States period to 1795?"
I said, "We were just joking, can you give me a price?"
"Let me put it this way: at Christie's in the UK, a Ming Dynasty vase can sell for £15 million, not to mention the behind-the-scenes manipulation; in Hong Kong, a Qianlong imperial sword can fetch HK$40 million, whether Qianlong himself ever saw it is another matter; a gilded sword used by Napoleon is worth over RMB 50 million..."
I interjected, "What if it's the dagger Jing Ke used to assassinate the King of Qin..."
Old Pan glanced at me, stood up and said, "I'm not going to chat with you anymore, I have to go."
After Lao Pan left, I stared blankly at Jing Ke's knife, only one thought in my mind: if it were a coin, I wonder how many times it could have killed me...
Actually, I'm not stupid. I'd already figured out that even a single hair from the most shameful part of Jing Ersha's body could theoretically be considered an artifact. But I also had a vague feeling that making a fuss about this was risky. Old Pan's words completely dispelled that idea. Leaving aside whether it's illegal or not, if it really ended up abroad, I'd be a sinner for all time, not just a thousand years later. As the general manager of "number several" pawnshops, it's one thing to cheat people out of their lives and make a little money, but after all, my school showed the movie "Yuanmingyuan" when I was a kid; I still have at least some basic civic virtue...
Baozi and the others only had 20 minutes for lunch break. Usually, I'd close the door and go find her to grab a quick bite on the street. Today, I asked her to bring back a pound of steamed buns. When Baozi rushed back, Qin Shihuang was engrossed in watching "Meteor Garden." Baozi nodded to him as a greeting, then quickly found a stool to sit down and watch. When I told her to eat, she said she'd already eaten and had to go back right away after watching TV for a while. During a commercial break when the TV was showing Daoming Si, Hua Ze Lei, and Shan Cai being all lovey-dovey, Baozi stood up and said to Qin Shihuang, "Fatty, tell me the result when I get back this afternoon—"
What I found most embarrassing wasn't that, but Qin Shi Huang actually said in a very authentic Taiwanese accent, "Alright, alright, you're so long-winded."
I dragged Jing Ke, who had been studying glass next door, into my room to eat steamed buns. So far, neither of them has caused me too much embarrassment. Jing Ke is rather naive; he's too shy to ask about things he's curious about, and the things in my room are enough for him to study for half a year. Qin Shi Huang, on the other hand, enjoys life with a celebratory attitude, appreciating everything new and maintaining a "good old days of blissful ignorance" attitude.
What I fear most now is that one day Fatty Ying and Silly Jing will suddenly realize they've been tricked by the King of Hell, and they might take their anger out on me first, especially after Qin Shi Huang finds out that I've been secretly calling him Fatty Ying.
I put their clothes at the very bottom of the closet, intending to make sure they took everything with them a year later. To be honest, my biggest fear in not selling them was getting into trouble. As far as I know, the international criminal organizations dealing in antiques are no less powerful than those dealing in drugs and arms. If I sold a Warring States period sword, I'd likely be haunted by evil spirits. And with this brick I have, my chances are slim. Of course, I must add, "I'm being long-winded," that I genuinely don't want China's treasures to be lost overseas, and I suggest everyone just remember this one point.
After I cleaned Jing Ke's knife, I put it in the toolbox. The most dangerous place is the safest.
Baozi is working the early shift this week, from 10 AM to 4 PM, but she doesn't actually leave until around 5 PM. If she were on the night shift, she'd go in at 4 PM and not get back until after 11 PM. Baozi never asks me to pick her up when she's on the night shift, not because she looks particularly "warning," but because her family lives in the railway school dormitory. She grew up fighting and joking with the railway kids; she's a "street kid." In her first year of junior high, she whistled at a handsome young teacher. Unfortunately, she didn't know he was the new English teacher before she whistled. Luckily, he didn't hear it, but their homeroom teacher—an old lady—did. Baozi has been in school for many years, but she's only learned two lines of poetry: "The fragrance of plum blossoms comes from the bitter cold" and "Let the wind and rain blow as they will."
Therefore, she wholeheartedly accepts all my friends, big and small. Today, she brought a large basket of vegetables. She washed a cucumber, broke off half, handed it to Qin Shihuang, and while chewing the other half herself, said, "So what happened in the end? He didn't do anything to Shancai, did he?"
Qin Shi Huang learned the uses of telephones and cars in just one afternoon by watching television. Later, I even explained the TV series to him. He was very surprised and asked me why I watched it even though I knew it was all fake. I could only say that it was the same as him watching beauties from the six kingdoms dance to pass the time.
Jing Ke had found his true love—a worn-out transistor radio. This simple-minded fool believed that the voices inside were coming from imprisoned little people, and he spent the entire afternoon trying to communicate with them.
With two guys like that around, I felt it necessary to give Baozi a heads-up. I pulled her to the sink, pretending to help her wash vegetables, and said, "Those two guys are a bit slow on the uptake." I also subtly told her, "They're not from our generation." Baozi said, "The big guy looks about the same age as you, and the fat guy is probably in his early 40s."
I scratched my head and said, "People who play rock music have never really been supported, and it's made my brain not work very well."
After I said that, Baozi immediately understood. I didn't dare tell her yet that the two of them were going to stay here for a year.
After the meal was prepared, Baozi asked Qin Shihuang at the table, "What is your surname, Fatty?" After I explained what he meant, Qin Shihuang replied cheerfully, "My name is Ying Zheng." Baozi's eyes then fell on Jing Ersha, and he had a sudden inspiration, so he quickly said, "My name is Jing Ke."
Baozi paused for a moment, then burst into laughter: "That's really creative! What's your band's name?"
I was sweating profusely and quickly answered for them, "Qin Dynasty."
Chapter Six, MM, do you need paper?
Regarding how to keep Fatty Ying and Silly Jing obediently staying here for a year, I have a preliminary plan: In the first quarter, I'll teach them self-care at home until they're no longer surprised or embarrassed by anything they see. Given their intelligence and mindset, this shouldn't be difficult. In the second quarter, I plan to take them to nearby restaurants for desserts or something; that should be manageable. The third quarter will be the most challenging. They'll probably get bored with the mundane days, so I'll take them to the amusement park, let them ride bumper cars and spinners, and occasionally take them to karaoke. In the fourth quarter, victory is in sight. I'll not hesitate to tell them the truth and let them spend it filled with hatred for the King of Hell.
In any case, no one can know their identities. Of course, this is somewhat redundant. But in reality, the specific identities of this first assassin and the first emperor in my eyes are "black people," and it would be troublesome if the police were to target them.
With my salary of 1400, I can barely get through this year peacefully. Baozi's salary is 800 a month, just enough for herself. Baozi is a frugal and careless person; as long as she doesn't go hungry, she doesn't have much of a concept of money. Moreover, she values relationships, and after getting to know people for a while, she probably won't object to these two staying.
I've always worried that Jing Ke might try to assassinate Qin Shi Huang while I'm away, but it seems there's no sign of that. Right now, he's completely absorbed in the little figures on his electronic device. At dinner, I saw him hide a few grains of rice in his shirt pocket (my Adidas!), probably trying to feed his imaginary little figure. I think he's adorable; I did the same thing when I was three and a half.
After eating two meals at my place, Fatty Ying became even more convinced that this was the Celestial Realm. He ate at least seven ounces of the one pound of steamed buns at noon, and asked for extra rice twice in the evening. After a few bites, he would say, "Liao za lie (Shaanxi dialect, meaning delicious)." This made me suspect that his initial reason for unifying the six kingdoms was that the Qin state's grain was not enough to feed him alone. Moreover, none of the eggplants, cucumbers, radishes, and tomatoes on the table were ones he had never seen before. I am really curious about what vegetables people ate during the Warring States period.
That evening, the four of us watched TV together. I sat on the sofa with my arm around Baozi's waist, while Fatty Ying and Jing Ersha each brought out a small stool and sat on either side of us. You can imagine, a man, after a hearty meal and drinks, holding his woman, with the greatest assassin of all time on one side and the first emperor who unified China on the other, that feeling, wow, for a moment I even thought I had become an immortal.
But the movie that CCTV-6 showed that day, I felt, was even less suitable for the two new members than pornographic films—"Hero".
Jing Ke was one thing, but the film repeatedly mentioned "King of Qin," even including the words "Qin Shi Huang" in the end credits. But Fatty Ying watched the movie without a care, completely unaware of who Chen Daoming was playing. While the costumes temporarily piqued his interest, they were clearly worlds apart from his own kingdom. After watching the film, he complained, "Good heavens! This isn't something I haven't done before! If I don't beat them, they'll beat me! They don't care about anything else!"
This is Qin Shi Huang's review of the movie "Hero".
Later I realized that Ying the Fat Man himself didn't know what the name Qin Shi Huang referred to, because that was the title given to him by later generations. Although he called himself "First Emperor," probably no one ever pointed at him and called him "Qin Shi Huang" in his entire life.
In fact, Qin Shi Huang had a major misunderstanding about his current situation. He genuinely believed this was an omniscient and omnipotent immortal realm, so he felt he was nothing special and had no need to hide his name. I think this is fine; as long as no one believes him, I can live peacefully.
Anyway, Baozi didn't believe it. Her comment on Qin Shi Huang's words was to me afterwards: "Fatty is quite the braggart."
A week has passed in the blink of an eye, and Jing Ke and Qin Shi Huang have maintained peaceful coexistence. They can now shower and turn the TV on and off. Jing Ke still doesn't know how to use the remote, and Qin Shi Huang can only select channels 1 to 9, though he can use the "+" button to add channels. I'm very grateful for the rich selection of channels provided by the set-top box. If the TV had only a few channels like before, Qin Shi Huang would probably have figured out the whole system by now. With over 200 channels, he's overwhelmed, blurring the lines between reality and illusion. Jing Ke is inseparable from his transistor radio like a fetishist; I've spent over 20 yuan just on batteries for him these past two days. Sometimes I send him to buy me a pack of cigarettes, and I use the change to buy him candy…