Chapter Seventeen: The Radish Vase (Part Two)

Li Jianjun put on a performance in front of Mengya and me, carrying on with his bluster and bravado for over an hour, talking so much the very air seemed about to explode. It wasn’t until half past two that afternoon that he finally left the shop, his things in hand.

As soon as Li Jianjun was gone, I let out a long sigh, wiped the cold sweat from my brow, and said, “My goodness, I’m nearly in shock from all that. Quick, make me a cup of coffee to calm my nerves.”

Mengya looked displeased, her tone haughty as she snorted, “You expect your wife to make you coffee to soothe your nerves? Shouldn’t you be making it for me instead? Still want me to wait on you?”

I sighed again. I had hoped my lovely, gentle Mengya would be a sweet, obedient wife by day and a soothing balm for my soul by night. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. Sighing once more, I walked to the coffee machine and prepared two cups, bringing one to her. Affecting a delicate tone, I said, “Miss Mengya, your coffee is ready.”

She took the coffee, glanced at me, and stretched her legs across mine. “Come, massage my legs—they’re sore.”

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, my face showing clear reluctance. She glared right back. “If you don’t, you’d better not expect to sleep in my bed tonight.”

Not allowed in bed? That meant no comfort for me tonight. I hurried to comply, gently kneading her soft, slender legs with my fingertips. Her face took on a look of deep satisfaction, and she closed her eyes contentedly.

“Tonight, when we get home, you lie down and I’ll give you a massage.”

Hearing that was like a shot of adrenaline for me, and I redoubled my efforts. Mengya let out a little cry, startling me.

“Why are you pressing so hard? You’re hurting me.”

Afterwards, we drove home, had dinner, took a shower, and went to bed.

The next day, we arrived early at the antique market as usual. Mengya took out a lotus and seed-decorated Yixing teapot by Master Jiang Rong from the Xiangfei bamboo tea stand, then fetched a packet of authentic Tongmuguan Lapsang Souchong from a small drawer and poured it into the teapot. She picked up the glass kettle, now boiling, and filled the teapot on the tea tray. As soon as the clay lid was placed, the carved lotus seeds and the frog perched atop began to spin, an ingenious and amusing touch.

Mengya poured some of the ruby-red tea into my crystal cup. I picked it up, just about to take a sip, when my phone chimed with a Buddhist chant.

“Jianjun, what is it?”

Li Jianjun’s muffled voice came through, “Hey, Qiutong, um, so…”

“What is it?”

“That rouge-glazed radish vase, my boss says two hundred thousand is way too much. Could you make it a little cheaper?”

If you’d quoted two million, your boss would have slapped you out the door, I thought.

“How about this? Just return me a hundred thousand, that’s fine.” I hung up as soon as I’d finished.

Mengya shot me a look, clearly unhappy. “I told you not to let him take the vase. People like him are nothing but talk.”

I shrugged helplessly. “Let’s not dwell on it. If it doesn’t sell, so be it. It’s not a big loss. No use getting upset—let’s just have our tea.”

Mengya laughed coldly, her tone mocking and flirtatious. “Oh, how cultivated you are.”

I smiled, lifted my cup, and took a sip. But just as I set the cup down, the Buddhist chant sounded again.

“Hello, Jianjun, what now?”

Li Jianjun’s voice mumbled through, “Qiutangzhu, that radish vase, my boss says it’s too expensive. Could you take back eighty thousand instead?”

I sighed, pondered for ten seconds, then replied, “Alright, do what you think is best. If it doesn’t work out, just bring it back.” I hung up.

Mengya poured me another cup, but before I could drink it, the Buddhist chant rang out again.

“Jianjun, what else?”

“Could you go a bit lower on that vase?”

I sighed and glanced at Mengya. She muttered quietly, “Just have him bring it back.”

I shook my head at her. “Jianjun, I’ll go down another twenty thousand, but you know it cost nearly forty thousand just to bring it back from abroad.” I hung up.

Mengya was thoroughly annoyed by my repeated concessions, her face full of anger. “I told you to have him bring it back. It’s not like we can’t sell it ourselves. Letting him handle it means getting nothing and listening to his endless boasting.”

I was irritated myself, but suppressed it with a heavy sigh. “He’s already taken it, what else can we do?”

At my words, Mengya’s temper flared again, and she was about to argue when the Buddhist chant sounded once more.

“Qiutong, my boss says—”

I cut him off, “Your boss thinks the vase is too expensive and can only offer one hundred, right?”

There was a brief silence from Li Jianjun. Then, “My boss says fifty thousand. What do you think?”

If you were in front of me, I’d spit in your face, I thought angrily.

“Just bring it back. I’m not selling.” I hung up.

Mengya, seeing my resolute decision, finally let her anger ebb. I had just set down my phone to take a sip of water when the chant sounded yet again.

“Qiutong, my boss asks if you’ll take a hundred thousand.”

Mengya waved her hand at me. I nodded, “Jianjun, bring it back. I won’t sell it for any price now.”

I hung up. Mengya nodded in approval. “That’s more like it. He’s never straightforward.”

The next morning, Mengya and I were still asleep when the Buddhist chant dragged us from our dreams.

“Jianjun, what is it?”

“Qiutong, when will you be at the shop? I’ll bring the vase back at noon.”

At half past ten, Mengya and I were sitting in the antique shop, neither making tea nor lighting incense. I glanced at her. “Why no incense or tea today?”

She replied coldly, “I don’t want to risk him starting up with his bluster during tea.”

I couldn’t suppress a chuckle. At that moment, Li Jianjun rushed in, a large backpack on his shoulders. He slung it down, unzipped it, and began pulling out various boxes, opening and inspecting each. After some rummaging, he produced the old camphorwood box from the bottom, set it on the table, then stowed the rest away.

“I’ve brought your item back. I need to go—got other things to return.” With that, he darted out like a monkey, gone from the market in a flash.

I looked at Mengya and let out another laugh. “Looks like you were right—good thing we didn’t make tea.”

Mengya frowned, her expression heavy, as she picked up the camphorwood box. She opened it, sneered, and tossed it onto the table with a thud.

Looking at the old box, I saw nothing but an empty depression where the vase should have lain.

I quickly grabbed my phone and called Li Jianjun.

“Qiutong, what’s up?”

“Jianjun, the box is empty. You didn’t give me back the vase—”

Before I could finish, Li Jianjun cursed and snapped, “How am I supposed to know? Why didn’t you check before I left? Now you’re saying I gave you an empty box—that’s slander!” With that, he hung up.

I let out a long sigh. Ah, poor judgment in choosing friends.

As I was sighing, the sacred chant sounded again.

Mengya, hearing it, burst out angrily, “If you don’t change that funeral chant, I’ll smash your phone to pieces!”

I waved her off. “It’s Uncle Tian calling.” I answered the phone.

“Uncle Tian.”

“Qiutong, you’re at the shop? I’ll come down and see you.”

Moments later, Tian Minwei entered, sat at the table, and glanced at the empty box, smiling at us.

“What’s this, you two? Staring each other down at the table?”

I was embarrassed and stammered, “We’re not—nothing like that.”

He smiled slyly. “Heh, Li Jianjun took a Daoguang rouge-glazed radish vase from you, didn’t he?”

I was taken aback. “How did you know?”

Tian Minwei produced a cloth-wrapped bundle from his breast, opening it to reveal the very same red vase that Li Jianjun had taken.

I was utterly confused. What was going on?

Tian Minwei smiled. “Qiutong, you’re still green. Last month, Li Jianjun sold a boss a pair of so-called ‘Tiger Tooth Dzi beads’—turned out to be fakes. Yesterday, when he delivered goods again, the boss withheld some items as compensation. I know that boss well. He showed me this Daoguang vase and told me its story. I recognized it at once and bought it from him for twenty thousand.”

Only then did I understand. I glanced at the camphorwood box and pushed it toward Tian Minwei. “Uncle Tian, since the vase is yours now, you should take the box as well.”

He smiled, shook his head, opened the box, placed the vase inside, closed the lid, and pushed it back to me. “Qiutong, be more careful in the future. The vase is still yours—let’s call it a shared investment.”

I nodded, thinking this was just like the episode with Luo Qingyun’s three-holed vase. I handed the box to Mengya, who returned it to the storeroom.

Tian Minwei nodded and left, returning to his shop, Fenghe Pavilion.

We were just about to close up and head home when, at that moment, Lord Yun—who had been absent for so long—walked in. The sight of him immediately put me ill at ease.