San Pao, where's Fatty? Is he alright?"
When Fang Yi regained consciousness, he found himself in a hospital room. Turning his head slightly, he noticed that aside from an elderly man on the adjacent bed, who was reading with the aid of reading glasses, only Peng Sanjun stood nearby.
"He's fine..." San Pao replied, a hint of anxiety in his voice. "If it weren't for you, Fatty might not have made it. I want to thank you on his behalf..."
"What are you saying? Both you and Fatty are my closest friends. If it were you, I would have done the same to save him, wouldn't I?" Fang Yi chuckled at San Pao's words. In that moment before the accident, he hadn't thought twice; his only instinct was to push Fatty out of harm's way.
"Yes, I would have saved him too!" San Pao nodded earnestly. If he had possessed Fang Yi's quick reflexes, he would have acted just as swiftly.
"Fang Yi, are you feeling unwell? Are you hungry? I can get you something to eat..." Noticing Fang Yi's pale lips, San Pao stood up, intending to fetch him some water, only to discover that the bedside table was empty and the water jug contained not a single drop.
"I feel weak all over, but I'm not particularly hungry. Could you please get me some water..." Fang Yi attempted to sit up, but his arms lacked strength, and he found himself lying back down.
"Young man, the water's at the stairwell; there's a supermarket on the first floor that sells everything. Why not buy something while you're at it?" The elderly man in the adjacent bed, having overheard their conversation, kindly interjected.
"Thank you, sir..." San Pao replied, turning to Fang Yi. "You just rest; I'll go get a cup and some water for you..."
San Pao felt fortunate that he had insisted the driver leave behind two hundred yuan; otherwise, he wouldn't even have enough for basic necessities like toilet paper or a cup.
"Young man, did you get into an accident?" After San Pao left, the elderly man inquired.
"Yes, I was hit by a car..." Fang Yi managed a bitter smile. Having grown up in the mountains, he was accustomed to sleeping while meditating at night; lying quietly in a hospital bed was a novel experience for him.
"Was that person your friend?" The elderly man set down his book, appearing bored and eager for conversation.
"Yes, he's my friend..." Fang Yi assessed the elderly man beside him, noting that he was in his sixties, wearing glasses, and dressed in a hospital gown, with a thin blanket draped over his legs.
"Such camaraderie among the youth is truly rare these days..." The elderly man, having gleaned some background from their earlier exchange, regarded Fang Yi with a newfound respect.
"Sir, I see you've injured your right leg?" Fang Yi observed the elderly man and spoke up.
"Hmm? How did you know it was my right leg that was injured?"
The elderly man paused, then chuckled, "I slipped while getting up to use the restroom at night and hurt my right leg. Ah, age has its drawbacks..."
"You're still quite vigorous, sir. A few days of rest, and you'll be fine..." Fang Yi smiled, refraining from elaborating. Having studied traditional Chinese medicine under an old Taoist since childhood, he had often assisted injured individuals in the mountains, and he could easily discern the old man's injury.
"Here, young man, have an apple. I see your lips are parched..." The elderly man kindly offered an apple from his bedside. He noticed that aside from the bandage on Fang Yi's chest, he appeared unscathed, assuming his injuries were not severe.
"Thank you, sir..." Fang Yi genuinely wished to accept the apple, but he couldn't lift his hand and could only manage a wry smile. "I... I can't muster any strength in my hands right now..."
"Is your body alright? You're not experiencing any serious issues, are you?" After feeling the weakness in his body twice, Fang Yi began to feel anxious. He was not yet twenty; if he were to suffer from paralysis, it would be better to perish than to live in such a state.
"Sir, I'm feeling a bit fatigued; I think I'll rest for a while..."
With that thought, Fang Yi addressed the elderly man before taking a deep breath. He focused on the Taoist breathing technique he had practiced for over a decade, attempting to circulate his internal energy.
In Taoist practice, "small circulation" refers to the process of internal energy flowing from the lower dantian, passing through the perineum, traversing the spine along the Du meridian to the tailbone and the three gates of the spine and the occiput, reaching the crown of the head, and then descending through the ears to the tip of the tongue. Due to its relatively small range, it is termed "small circulation."
In the practice of internal alchemy, small circulation is the process of refining essence into energy, also known as the hundred-day foundation.
In truth, cultivating energy is not as esoteric as it seems; even an ordinary person practicing diligently over time can sense energy. By the age of eight, Fang Yi had already been able to feel the energy in his dantian, and after more than a decade of rigorous practice, he was nearly capable of executing the "great circulation."
"Fortunately, the internal energy remains..."
Upon sensing the energy in his dantian, Fang Yi let out a sigh of relief. As long as the internal energy persisted, it could replenish his body's depleted vitality, allowing his acquired essence to return to its innate state, thereby promoting health and dispelling illness.
Fang Yi's master had lived to a ripe old age and could still traverse the mountain paths with agility, attributing his vitality to the cultivation of energy. Thus, Fang Yi believed that as long as his internal energy remained intact, his body would gradually recover.
"Indeed, it proves effective..." After completing a cycle of small circulation, the soreness and weakness in his body diminished significantly, and his complexion regained some color, instilling a sense of calm within Fang Yi.
"Fang Yi, Fang Yi, are you awake?"
Just as Fang Yi finished his small circulation, approximately ten minutes later, the door to the hospital room swung open, and Fatty rushed to his bedside, tears streaming down his face before he even spoke.
"Fang Yi, you... you scared me to death..." Fatty, at a loss for words, could only sob, gripping Fang Yi's hand tightly, occasionally raising it to wipe away his tears.
"You glutton, how utterly embarrassing..." Fang Yi attempted to withdraw his hand, but he lacked the strength to overpower Fatty, finding the situation both amusing and exasperating.
"Fatty, step aside; I need to get Fang Yi some water..."
Entering behind them, San Pao kicked Fatty aside and set a plastic bag on the bedside. "I just bought some things and ran into those two. By the way, Fang Yi, that's the guy who hit you..."
"Young brother, I sincerely apologize. This whole incident is my fault; I was distracted while driving..."
Manjun stepped forward, forcing a pained expression onto his face. In truth, he was genuinely distressed; he wondered who he had offended to incur such a financial burden for no reason.
"This... this isn't your fault; it's... it's our..."
Fang Yi hesitated upon hearing the bald driver's words. It seemed the incident had been triggered by Fatty standing in the middle of the road to stop traffic. If blame were to be assigned, Fatty would certainly bear more than fifty percent of the responsibility.
"Cough, cough, Fang Yi, do you have any other discomforts?"
Seeing that Fang Yi was about to speak too freely, Fatty quickly coughed to interrupt him. What a joke it would be if the bald driver learned the true circumstances; the two thousand yuan tucked away in his pocket would surely be demanded back.
"I'm just feeling weak all over; I can barely lift my hand..."
Noticing Fatty's subtle signals, Fang Yi quickly grasped the situation. Although he had grown up in the mountains, it didn't mean he was naive; in fact, among the three brothers, he was the most perceptive.
"Hmm? Can you move your legs?" Fatty's expression shifted as he asked, "This... this wouldn't lead to paralysis, would it? If so, I don't think you should leave; that two thousand won't cover it..."
"Hey, come on, we can't think like that..." Manjun protested. "We agreed that I would cover the medical expenses and pay an additional two thousand. Are you trying to extort me? I won't fall for that..."
Having navigated the social landscape for over twenty years, Manjun had been reluctant to escalate matters due to his unlicensed driving incident. However, seeing Fatty becoming increasingly demanding, he felt a surge of irritation, and his words became less courteous.
"I'm not trying to extort you. Here's what we can do: you can pay an additional fifty thousand as a deposit for the hospital stay. You keep the receipt, and when it's time to discharge, we can settle up then. Sound good?"
Fatty had no intention of extorting Manjun; after all, he had promised to cover the medical bills. The money would come from those expenses, and since Manjun held the receipts, they would need him to handle the discharge procedures.
"That... that sounds reasonable, but I truly don't have that much cash on hand..."
Manjun paused, realizing the logic in Fatty's proposal, but he genuinely lacked the funds. He could scrape together three to five thousand, but coming up with fifty thousand was beyond his means.
"Come on, brother, your shop must be worth at least a million or two. Surely you can manage this much?"
Fatty had accompanied Manjun to his shop earlier and knew it was an antique store. Just the furnishings and décor alone would cost at least a hundred thousand, and on the way, many people had greeted Manjun, indicating he held some standing in the community.
Hearing Fatty's words, Manjun couldn't help but chuckle, responding, "Young brother, you don't understand. In our antique business, we might not have cash flow for three years, but when we do open, we eat well for three years. Who keeps such a large sum of money on hand?"
"Who are you trying to fool? I refuse to believe you can't scrape together fifty thousand..." Fatty shook his head repeatedly, clearly unconvinced that someone in such a lucrative business could be short on cash.
"Well, he has a point. Those in business don't always have liquid assets, and antique dealers are especially prone to this..." Before Fatty could finish, an unexpected voice chimed in from the side.
Ah, I say, sir, you can't just support each other in conversation just because you're all city folks, can you?"
The heavyset man glanced at the elderly patient beside him with some dissatisfaction and spoke up, "My brother was struck by him and can't move even now. I'm merely asking him to cover the medical and nutritional expenses; is that too much to ask?"
"Not too much, not too much. That's not what I meant..."
Upon hearing the heavyset man's indignant remarks, the old man chuckled, shaking his head as he replied, "If you hit someone, naturally you should cover their medical expenses. However, he does have a point; those in the antique business often don't have much cash on hand, but once they get started, they can thrive for years..."
"I don't care about that; my brother needs money for treatment..." The heavyset man twisted his neck, convinced that the old man was defending the driver.
"Hey, how can you speak to the elder like that?"
Though Fang Yi still felt weak all over, he was significantly better than before. With great effort, he propped himself up on his pillow and said, "I think there's no need to pay the deposit anymore; in a few days, it should be fine..."
Having circulated his energy through a small cycle, Fang Yi felt much improved. He believed that with a few more days of rest, he would fully recover. The soreness he felt might just be his muscles and bones reacting to the impact of the collision.
"Little brother, I truly have no cash on hand..."
Upon hearing Fang Yi's words, Man Jun felt a bit embarrassed. He pointed with his left hand at the brocade box held in his right and said, "I did have some cash, but I exchanged it all for this item. Once I sell it, I'll have money. If necessary, I can supplement your brother's nutritional expenses later; what do you think?"
Originally, Man Jun intended to lock the fan surface by Tang Bohu in his safe, but he received a call from a long-time client while on the road, prompting him to bring it along to the hospital, planning to visit the client afterward.
"No need, twenty thousand is sufficient; it's already quite a burden for this brother..."
Fang Yi shook his head. Before coming down the mountain, he had little concept of money, but after learning that the heavyset man had not saved a penny after working for six months, he understood that twenty thousand was a considerable sum.
Moreover, while the driver bore responsibility for the accident, the heavyset man had also put himself in danger by standing in the middle of the road, so Fang Yi didn't want to make things difficult for the middle-aged man before him; after all, Daoism emphasizes kindness towards others.
"Ah, little brother truly understands reason..." Man Jun, having worked hard all day, finally heard a heartwarming remark. Fang Yi's sincerity nearly brought tears to the eyes of the seasoned Man Jun.
"Here, take my business card. Hold onto it for now; once I sell this item, I'll come right over..."
Man Jun took out a business card and placed it on Fang Yi's bedside. He could tell that these individuals were likely from the countryside but had spent some time in the city, making them difficult to dismiss. Their understanding of the situation pleased Man Jun greatly.
"Hey, I say, what's in that box of yours? Can you show it to the old man?" Just as Man Jun was about to leave, the elderly patient suddenly called out to him.
"Uh? Uncle, do you want to see this item?" Hearing the old man's words, Man Jun hesitated, as he was reluctant to reveal it.
Although Man Jun owned an antique shop in Chaotian Palace, the items he could sell were quite limited. He hardly made enough in a year to cover the rent, and most of his business came from long-time clients, like the boss he was about to meet.
Thus, antique dealers typically prefer not to show their valuable items to ordinary people who lack understanding, as they are unlikely to buy and might even damage the antiques.
"Young man, what's inside?"
Noticing Man Jun's hesitation, the old man smiled and pulled out a rosewood bracelet, a pair of white gloves, and a delicately crafted cylindrical object the size of a thumb from under his pillow, saying, "I understand the rules; I won't damage your item. Just let me take a look..."
"Ah, so you're a collector?" Seeing the old man's actions, Man Jun exclaimed somewhat exaggeratedly, and this time he did not delay, placing the wooden box on the old man's bed.
Having been in the antique business for years, Man Jun recognized that the old man's rosewood bracelet belonged to the category of scholarly collectibles, which evolved from traditional cultural artifacts. In modern terms, such collectibles can be understood as items imbued with traditional cultural significance.
If the old man had merely produced the rosewood bracelet and gloves, Man Jun might not have been inclined to show him Tang Bohu's fan surface. However, upon seeing the cylindrical object, Man Jun's expression changed, for he recognized it as a magnifying glass.
There are many tools for identifying antiques, but the most common is indeed the magnifying glass. Man Jun immediately discerned that the one the old man produced was not a typical market item but rather one used by professionals, worth seven to eight thousand yuan, and unavailable for purchase in the domestic market.
Man Jun recognized it because he owned one himself, having bought it last year while traveling to Hong Kong. After showcasing it among his peers upon returning, he garnered plenty of envious glances, feeling quite elevated in status.
"Yes, this box is quite old; it's made of rosewood from the Republic era and is worth a bit..." The old man did not open the box immediately but examined the wooden box first, offering his appraisal before finally opening it.
"Uncle, take a look at this item and see if I've made a mistake."
Upon hearing the old man correctly identify the material of the box, a smile spread across Man Jun's face. Wooden items generally belong to the category of collectibles, which were not particularly valued in the early days of their rise, leading to fewer people interested in them. The old man's ability to recognize it at a glance certainly marked him as an expert.
In the antique trade, "making a mistake" refers to the act of buying a counterfeit as if it were genuine, often resulting in significant financial loss.
"Ah, it's a fan surface?"
Once the wooden box was opened, the old man immediately spotted the yellowed fan surface folded beneath a yellow silk cloth. His expression grew serious, and his hands became increasingly gentle. He now understood why the other party had been reluctant to show him the item.
Those knowledgeable in the field know that ancient paintings and calligraphy are among the most valuable and least well-preserved items in the antique world, easily damaged. The fan surface is a form of painting, and the difficulty of preserving such a folding fan is even greater.
"Eh, this... is this 'Watching the Plum Blossoms' by the Recluse Liu Ru?" As soon as he opened the fan surface, the old man exclaimed in surprise, carefully placing it on the quilt before leaning in to examine it closely with the magnifying glass.
"An expert indeed..." Seeing the old man's actions, Man Jun nodded inwardly. The old man did not look at the painting first but rather at the inscriptions and seals, a clear sign of a connoisseur.
"Hey, I say, Boss Man, isn't this just a fan surface?" San Pao, observing the old man's cautious demeanor, felt quite perplexed. Fans are sold everywhere; was it really necessary to put it in a box?
"True, it is a fan surface; however, it was painted by an ancient master, now considered an antique..." Man Jun chuckled at San Pao's comment, feeling pleased to have encountered an expert, and hoped to have the old man appraise it further.
"Then... how much is it worth?" The heavyset man interjected, aware that antiques could be quite valuable but unsure of their specific worth.
"Very expensive..." Man Jun smiled but refrained from revealing the price of the fan surface, fearing it might influence the old man's appraisal.
"That's no answer..." The heavyset man pouted upon hearing this, while the old man set down the magnifying glass and straightened his posture.
"Uncle, what do you think? Have you discerned anything?" Man Jun, unable to ignore the heavyset man, focused intently on the old man.
To be honest, although Man Jun had been in the antique business for a while, he was self-taught and had never systematically learned about antique appraisal. While he trusted his own judgment, he felt a twinge of anxiety about having purchased this item.
"This is Tang Bohu's 'Watching the Plum Blossoms'; I have seen a similar piece by him..."
The old man nodded and continued, "From the inscriptions, seals, and the style and quality of the paper, this is undoubtedly an authentic piece. Young man, well done! How much did you acquire this for?"
"Hehe, I spent quite a sum..." Man Jun chuckled, extending a hand to indicate a large amount, saying, "While this fan surface may not be worth as much as the painting, the seller was reluctant to part with it, so I ended up paying this much..."
Being a businessman, Man Jun naturally wouldn't disclose his actual purchase price, as the antique circle in Jinling is relatively small. If he revealed a low price, it could spread through the community the next day. Thus, he quoted a price he hoped to sell it for.
"Fifty thousand?"
Upon hearing Man Jun's quoted price, the old man's eyebrows raised, and after a moment of contemplation, he remarked, "Though your price is a bit steep, after the incident from a few years ago, the value of Tang Bohu's works has indeed risen. Fifty thousand is justified..."
"Uncle, you know about that incident? Truly an expert!" Man Jun gave the old man a thumbs up, but the admiration on his face was so evident that even Fang Yi, lying on the hospital bed, could tell it was feigned.
"Boss Man, what incident? Is there a story behind this?" The heavyset man, intrigued by their conversation, felt a strong urge to dive into the antique trade himself upon learning of the item's value.