Folklore and Strange Tales: At the Start, You Retrieve the Sea-Suppressing Black Iron

The task of fabricating the fake documents was left to Tieguai Li, while Cheng Xiaojin had to handle the investigation himself.

His grandfather hadn't taught him the four words "know yourself and know your enemy," but he understood the principle: before fighting with someone, you must know their hand; otherwise, if you're completely clueless when you sit down at the table, that's called suicide, not a game.

The simplest yet most effective way to find out about Fatty Sun is to invite him to dinner.

Cheng Xiaojin was well-liked in Panjiayuan. He was usually witty and sarcastic, but he never cheated anyone, and the things he sold were honest and fair to everyone, young and old.

This kind of friendship is worth several bowls of braised pork in the market.

At six o'clock in the evening, he carried two bottles of Niulanshan Erguotou, shaking them so loudly they rattled, and went straight to Tong Kexin's braised food stall on Huguosi Street.

"Sister Kexin, it's my treat today. Six bowls of braised pork, and two extra pieces of baked flatbread."

Tong Kexin tapped the edge of the pot with a large spoon and pointed at his nose.

"What are you going to use to treat us? We haven't settled the bill from last time."

Cheng Xiaojin placed the two bottles of Erguotou on the folding table and patted the bottles with his palm.

"I brought my own wine, and I'll settle the bill for the braised dishes later, okay?"

"On credit again? Why does every sentence you say end with 'on credit'?"

"This is called credit consumption, which is an international practice."

Tong Kexin was too lazy to waste words with him, so she turned around to serve the braised dishes, scooping out half a spoonful more of the pork intestines and lungs than usual.

Cheng Xiaojin had made appointments with people in advance.

The first to arrive was Old Li, who sold miscellaneous items in the western district. He was over sixty years old and had been setting up his stall in Panjiayuan for fifteen years. He was holding a cloth bag in his hand and patted Cheng Xiaojin on the shoulder as soon as he sat down.

"Why is Xiao Jin being so generous today, even treating this old man to Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor)?"

Cheng Xiaojin handed him a cigarette and lit it for him.

"It's been so long since we last chatted, so I specially invited you to have something hot."

Two minutes later, Xiao Zhou arrived. He was a book repairman in the South District, in his early thirties. He didn't talk much but was well-informed. He carried a canvas bag full of ancient books, and there was some paste on his glasses. He sat down and started rubbing his hands.

"I was just saying I had nowhere to eat tonight, your call comes at the perfect time."

The third person to arrive was Sister Liu, who sells jade in the North District. She was in her fifties, had a loud voice and a fiery temper, and her voice could be heard across half an alley.

"Cheng Xiaojin, you've finally decided to bleed a little, huh? Last time I asked you for that string of five-zhu coins, you said you wouldn't sell it to me. Now you're treating me to braised pork offal, have you come to your senses?"

Once all three were present, Cheng Xiaojin laid out the braised dishes, filled the wine glasses, and clinked them together before offering a toast to everyone.

"You are all seniors, so I'm treating you all to a bowl of braised pork today. First, to catch up, and second, to ask you about something."

Old Li took the wine glass, took a sip, and then put a piece of fatty intestine into his mouth.

"What is it?"

"Fatty Sun."

There was a two-second silence on the table.

Sister Liu's chopsticks, which she had just reached out to pick up a baked bun, stopped in mid-air.

Did you upset him?

"I didn't provoke him, he's the one who came to me."

Cheng Xiaojin briefly recounted how Fatty Sun came to his stall to force him to hand over something, and even broke into his rented room to leave marks. He didn't mention the details of the iron lump, only saying that he had acquired an old item and was being targeted.

Old Li sighed and put his chopsticks on the bowl.

"I knew you'd run into this sooner or later. Xiao Jin, listen to me about Sun Bingde. Don't be fooled by his friendly demeanor and brotherly attitude in the market; he has no moral compass."

"How exactly is it 'no bottom line'?"

"Do you remember that guy Zhao who sold copperware in the East District two years ago?"

"I remember, I quit later and went back to Tongzhou."

Do you know why he went back to Tongzhou?

Cheng Xiaojin shook his head and filled Old Li's wine glass.

"I had just started my stall back then, so I don't know much about it."

Old Li lowered his voice and glanced to the left and right.

"Xiao Zhao bought a Shang Dynasty bronze jue (wine vessel) from a fellow villager in Henan. It's not very valuable, maybe worth around ten thousand yuan."

"Sun Pangzi's men had their eye on him and offered three thousand yuan to buy him, but Xiao Zhao refused to sell. The next day, two live rats were put on Xiao Zhao's stall. They were released from their cages and darted around at people, scaring away the customers nearby."

Cheng Xiaojin frowned.

"How could you even come up with such a dirty trick?"

"They have all sorts of dirty tricks up their sleeves," Old Li continued. "On the third day, the market management office said his stall was not up to hygiene standards and ordered it to close for rectification."

"On the fourth day, Xiao Zhao's warehouse was broken into. Not only was the bronze wine vessel gone, but several of his most prized possessions were also stolen."

"Did Xiao Zhao call the police?"

"We reported it, but they can't find anything. There are no security cameras in the warehouse area. Even if there were, it wouldn't be of any use; they're all unfamiliar faces. If they're caught, they'll just say they're petty thieves who stole things, and they have nothing to do with Fatty Sun."

Xiao Zhou, who hadn't said a word until now, picked up a piece of baked flatbread, chewed it, and then interjected.

"Actually, it's useless to find out. Fatty Sun never does it himself; it's all done by his men. One of his errand boys is called Crew Head. He's a former hoodlum who dropped out of school, and he's a master at this kind of thing."

Cheng Xiaojin's lips twitched as he recalled the buzz-cut young man who had thrown his business card at his stall.

"I've seen that kid before. Last time he slipped me Fatty Sun's business card, threw it away and ran off like a ghost."

Sister Liu chewed on her lungs and spoke indistinctly.

"That kid is the most ruthless. Last year, a tourist from out of town snatched the goods that Fatty Sun had his eye on. He cornered the tourist in the alley, beat him up, and stole the goods. In the end, the tourist only had to pay two hundred yuan to settle the matter."

Cheng Xiaojin held the wine glass, rubbing his fingers along the inside of the glass.

"Do you know who Sun Pangzi's buyer is?"

The three of them looked at each other, and Sister Liu spoke first.

"A Malaysian Chinese man surnamed Lin comes to Beijing two or three times a year and stays in a five-star hotel in the Guomao area. He is very generous. Last year, he spent more than 800,000 yuan at Boguzhai in Liulichang to buy a batch of bronze mirrors and ironware."

"Ironware?"

"Yes, he specializes in collecting ironware, the older the better. While others are focusing on porcelain and calligraphy, he specializes in these niche items. I heard he has a private museum at home that houses Chinese feng shui items, and he pays three or four times more than the domestic market price."

Cheng Xiaojin held his wine glass but didn't drink it. He mentally went through all the information and realized that Fatty Sun had found a regular buyer. No wonder he was in such a hurry to get the iron lump in his hand.

"Does Fatty Sun even know anything about this business?"

This time, the three of them shook their heads almost simultaneously, and Old Li waved his hand and said.

"If he were knowledgeable himself, he wouldn't need to support those people. He has an appraiser under him nicknamed 'Glasses King,' who wears thick glasses. I don't know his real name, but he's really skilled. He can appraise bronzes, porcelains, and all sorts of other items. His downside is that he's greedy and will speak for whoever pays the most."

Xiao Zhou added a sentence.

"Last time, a boss brought him a fake Xuande incense burner to appraise. He gave the boss 5,000 yuan, and the boss insisted that it was real. In the end, the boss resold it for 80,000 yuan, ripping off a collector from out of town."

Old Li continued.

"Before taking on any big shipment, Fatty Sun always has to have Glasses King inspect it first. Only if Glasses King approves will he dare to make a move."

Cheng Xiaojin remembered the name: King of Glasses.

After a few bowls of braised food and two bottles of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor), Old Li and his two companions staggered away. Before leaving, Sister Liu even took the half-pack of cigarettes that Cheng Xiaojin had in his pocket.

Cheng Xiaojin stayed behind to help Tong Kexin tidy up the table, stacking the bowls and carrying them to the sink.

Tong Kexin glanced at him while washing the dishes, her face covered in dish soap bubbles.

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No, I'm just chatting with my seniors."

"Don't pretend with me. When have you ever been so generous, treating four people to braised pork and two bottles of wine? Did you do something like that in your past life?"

Cheng Xiaojin wiped the water splashed on his face, stacked the stools against the wall, and wiped his hands.

"Sister Kexin, you've been selling braised pork offal in this alley for eight years. You've seen all sorts of people coming and going. I have a question for you."

"Go ahead and ask."

"Has Sun Bingde been searching everywhere lately for old objects related to the feng shui of Beijing?"

Tong Kexin paused in her washing of dishes and looked up at him.

How did you know?

"Answer me first."

Tong Kexin put the bowl in her hand into the drain basket and shook the water off her hands.

"Last month, a fat man in a Tang suit came to my place for braised pork. He was with two young men and sat at the table by the tree. I overheard him on the phone behind the stove, saying that he needed to hurry up and find what Mr. Lin wanted, specifically requesting local specialties from Beijing, the older the better, and that the price was negotiable."

Cheng Xiaojin's heart skipped a beat.

Are you sure he's talking about a talisman?

Tong Kexin rolled her eyes and tapped the braised pot with the handle of her spoon.

"I'm not deaf. His loud voice can be heard throughout the whole alley. Do I need to be sure? He even said that if the fragments of the Locked Dragon Well were found, he would give me this amount."

She held up three fingers and shook them.

Cheng Xiaojin's eyes widened in surprise.

"Three hundred thousand?"

Tong Kexin nodded.

"From what I heard him, he had been searching for almost half a year without success, and he was so anxious that he developed several blisters on his lips."

Cheng Xiaojin stood beside the stove, staring blankly at the bubbling bubbles in the stew pot for a while.

The buyer is more anxious than the seller.

That's his bargaining chip.

Cheng Xiaojin smiled, reached into the pot, picked up a piece of fatty intestine, and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Sister Kexin, you know so much, hehe..."

Tong Kexin rolled her eyes at him and took a rag to wipe the stove.

"Having sold braised pork offal in the alley for eight years, what kind of people haven't we seen? What do you think the aunties talk about? This neighborhood gossip, which alley a stranger came into, who did what business with whom, there's nothing we don't know."

She added without turning her head.

"If you need any information, don't waste money treating those old men to drinks. Come to me, a bowl of braised pork will be enough."