When using his clairvoyance, Wang Zhuo had seen patches of green, occasionally interspersed with black, which seemed harmless enough; though it affected the jade’s appearance, it was green nonetheless.
Unfortunately, he had encountered sesame black.
The entire piece of exposed green material was densely peppered with black specks the size of sesame seeds, along with numerous black striations, and the density was alarmingly high—it was impossible to carve out even bean-sized pieces of pure green.
Everyone lamented the pity of it. If this fist-sized exposed stone had fewer black specks, it might have yielded a few ornamental pieces, or perhaps even a bangle. But in its current state, it was utterly worthless scrap.
Wang Zhuo also felt regret, but he considered the lesson learned worth the cost; next time he encountered a similar stone, he would know better.
After a moment’s thought, Wang Zhuo decided to follow Guan Yingying’s lead and keep a memento of his first foray into stone gambling. He found a carving master from Shijiji and asked, “How much would it cost to carve a Jin Chan from this exposed piece?”
“This is scrap material…” the carving master mused, “Brother, carving a Jin Chan from this will only have craft value, and the result probably won't be very appealing either.”
Wang Zhuo nodded, “That’s fine, just give me a price.”
The carving master measured the dimensions of the exposed stone, calculated for a moment, and quoted a processing fee of thirteen hundred yuan. Since this piece was gambled from Shijiji, a discount was applied, bringing the final charge to Wang Zhuo down to one thousand.
Having money gave him confidence. Normally, Wang Zhuo would think spending a month’s living expenses to carve a piece of stone was something only a fool would do. But having just made eighty thousand yuan instantly, coupled with the invincible cheat of his clairvoyance allowing him to earn money at will, he spent the one thousand yuan processing fee without a second thought, feeling it was worth the price.
Leaving Shijiji, it was already past five in the evening. Wang Zhuo suggested they treat themselves to dinner. Guan Yingying did not stand on ceremony, and the two walked down the street until they found a well-decorated and clean restaurant for their supper.
Guan Yingying couldn't stop talking about stone gambling, clearly having developed an addiction, longing for that ultimate vision of a cut that reveals eyes full of emerald green. Wang Zhuo, having just earned eighty thousand yuan, was experiencing such wealth for the first time in his life, and he too was now hooked on the thrill of stone gambling. The two novices, who hadn't even scratched the surface of gemology, chatted animatedly, the gap in their status and standing dissolving unnoticed between them.
Unconsciously, dinner stretched until seven-thirty, lasting nearly two hours.
“Give me your phone number. We’ll come stone gambling together next time,” Guan Yingying said, taking out her own mobile phone.
Wang Zhuo recited his number, which Guan Yingying promptly entered into her phone and then called him back, allowing Wang Zhuo to save her contact information.
“Reporting to Your Majesty, a commoner requests an audience—”
Hearing the ringtone of Wang Zhuo’s phone, Guan Yingying froze, then immediately chided him, “Change that ringtone, it’s too annoying.”
Wang Zhuo offered an awkward smile, nodded, and pulled out his antique phone to save Guan Yingying’s number.
“What are you writing?” Guan Yingying suddenly lunged forward and snatched Wang Zhuo’s phone.
In the call log, the latest missed call displayed two characters: Yingying.
She threw the phone back. Wang Zhuo received a glare, but brazenly tucked his phone away.
“Change it to Sister Guan,” Guan Yingying demanded.
“Okay,” Wang Zhuo took out his phone, fiddled with it pretending to make adjustments, and then put it away again.
Guan Yingying observed him, her eyes shifting, but she said nothing.
Exiting the restaurant, they chatted their way to the parking lot. Guan Yingying started her yellow Beetle and asked Wang Zhuo, “Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride.”
Wang Zhuo shook his head, “No need, I can just take a taxi.”
“Let me drive you,” Guan Yingying insisted with apparent sincerity.
Wang Zhuo chuckled wryly, “Better not. I’m afraid you might find an isolated spot halfway there and dump me out of the car.”
Guan Yingying burst into laughter, “Good thing you’re smart. Then go hail a cab yourself. I’m leaving now.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Wang Zhuo reached out to stop her, saying, “How about we compromise? I’ll add ‘Sister’ to your name, and you drive me home. How’s that?”
Guan Yingying considered it, then said, “Alright, but I need to check after you change it.”
And so, Wang Zhuo changed ‘Yingying’ to ‘Sister Yingying’ in his phone, and Guan Yingying drove the Beetle, taking Wang Zhuo back to his apartment.
Watching the Beetle drive away, Wang Zhuo went upstairs, opened the door, and laid the seventy-nine thousand yuan in stacks on the living room coffee table, grinning from ear to ear as he paced and admired the sight.
After circling the coffee table a few times, he found it still not satisfying enough. He promptly untied the bundles and spread the cash out, covering the entire surface of the table.
A sea of brilliant pink greeted his eyes. Wang Zhuo grinned, grabbed a handful, let go, and watched the bills drift down, then grabbed another handful, and let go again…
Fold a paper airplane—no, a money airplane! Aiming towards the balcony, Fly!
Snatching a few bills randomly, crumpling them into a ball, he aimed for the wastebasket—Toss!
Scooping up a large wad, he threw it into the air—Throw!
Having money feels incredible!
...
The next morning, Wang Zhuo, having slept in amidst the pile of cash, was woken by his phone ringing.
“Reporting to Your Majesty, a commoner requests an audience—”
Seeing the caller ID, it was his Great Aunt calling. Wang Zhuo rubbed his sleepy eyes and got up, causing a few hundred-yuan bills to slide off him.
“Great Aunt, it’s Wang Zhuo.”
“Wang Zhuo, are you in class? I have something to tell you.” His Great Aunt’s voice sounded somewhat low.
Wang Zhuo certainly wasn't going to tell his Great Aunt he was sleeping, “Tell me, Great Aunt, what is it?”
The Great Aunt said, “Your Little Aunt is hospitalized. They found a tumor near her kidney. She might need surgery soon. If you have time, you should go visit.”
Wang Zhuo was startled and quickly asked, “A tumor? Is it serious?”
“The lab results aren't back yet, so we don't know if it’s benign or malignant.” The Great Aunt sighed here, “It’s going to cost a lot of money, and it all depends on whether she can pull through this.”
After a few more minutes of conversation, the Great Aunt ended the call. Wang Zhuo sat on the bed in a daze. How could a perfectly healthy person suddenly have a tumor? Life is truly unpredictable.
Getting up to wash his face and brush his teeth, Wang Zhuo canceled his morning exercise routine, hurriedly packed the money, wrapped it in newspaper, and held it in his hand. He skipped breakfast after leaving the house and took a taxi straight to the Central Hospital where his Little Aunt was being treated.
He called Gan Lin and asked her to cover for him in class. Upon hearing that Wang Zhuo’s Little Aunt was hospitalized, Gan Lin agreed without much fuss. She knew that while Wang Zhuo often fabricated stories when asking for leave, he never joked about the life or death of his relatives.
Of course, Wang Zhuo’s deceased grandfather and uncle occasionally had surprise birthdays, whenever Wang Zhuo needed an excuse.
His Little Aunt in the hospital ward looked extremely haggard; she had lost weight and appeared much older, making Wang Zhuo almost fail to recognize her.
His Little Aunt was asleep. The four-person ward was somewhat noisy. Whether disturbed by the noise or suffering from the pain of her surgical wound, his Little Aunt frowned intermittently before finally relaxing after a long moment, which wrung Wang Zhuo’s heart.
His Little Uncle busied himself running errands. When he finally finished, he patted Wang Zhuo’s shoulder and said, “Wang Zhuo, let’s step out for some air and have a smoke.”
The two went into the corridor. His Little Uncle took out a pack of the cheapest filtered cigarettes and offered two. Wang Zhuo waved his hand, “I don’t want one, I just quit.”
“Good that you quit.” The Little Uncle put one back and lit one for himself, taking a deep drag.
Neither spoke. Halfway through the cigarette, tears welled up in the Little Uncle’s eyes, and he choked out, “The biopsy results are back. It’s malignant.”
Wang Zhuo felt as if his heart had been violently squeezed.
Calming himself, Wang Zhuo asked, “What did the doctor say? Can it be treated?”
His Little Uncle shook his head, his gaze resolute, “No matter what the doctor says, we’ll treat it. If we can’t cure it, we still have to try!”
Wang Zhuo remained silent, his emotions churning. His Little Aunt had always been the closest relative to him since childhood—taking him to the park, buying him new clothes, picking him up from kindergarten… Now this cherished family member lay on a thin hospital bed, and the doctor had just pronounced her death sentence.
The Little Uncle flicked his cigarette butt away and stomped it hard beneath his foot, saying calmly, “Qianqian will come this afternoon to help care for her. I’m going back to sell the house to pay for your aunt’s treatment.”