Chapter 121: Monk Wei

In short, it symbolizes good fortune and auspiciousness. When I thought about it this way, I realized I had essentially emptied out a princess’s dowry. I couldn’t help but mutter to myself; after all, that princess had left a deep impression on me back in that tomb. I had nearly been killed by her, and even now, the mere thought of it made my heart race with lingering fear.

This horn is highly valuable. It is inscribed with four characters in an ancient seal script. As mentioned before, a single character is worth two hundred thousand, making the four characters worth eight hundred thousand alone. The horn itself is worth six or seven hundred thousand, and given its pristine condition, it could fetch over eight hundred thousand. In other words, the absolute minimum value for this horn is 1.6 million.

Of course, these values are for the black market and the trade. If brought out into the open, the price could easily double or triple. However, that is the reality of the business: many items cannot be brought into the light. Without a legitimate source, official channels, or proper documentation, you are essentially dealing in stolen cultural relics, which carries a prison sentence if caught. That is why the black market and underground trade exist, and why the prices for these items are kept so low. Naturally, if I had the time to wait, the price might be higher.

According to Jin Sanshou, the total conservative value of these items should be over four million. That is just the baseline; the actual sale price would likely be higher. Of course, once the final price is determined, a commission must be paid to Jin Sanshou from the amount above that baseline. His appraisal fees and the costs of connecting with buyers are all covered by this commission. After all, this is his line of work. Naturally, reputation is paramount in Jin Sanshou’s profession, and generally speaking, they are very trustworthy and would not inflate prices. They make their living this way, so they would never ruin their own reputation.

As for the "red head" Jin Sanshou mentioned earlier, I had asked Monk Wei about it while Jin was in the back room making phone calls. It is essentially a commission for the middleman based on the value of the antique. This commission is often quite high—sometimes as much as half—but since Monk Wei had just implied that I was one of his own and that no "red head" should be charged—a favor purely for his sake—Jin Sanshou understood and naturally excluded it.

After settling on the rough price, Jin Sanshou began making calls. He was quite efficient, making over a dozen calls in total. Since he was in the back room, I couldn't hear what he was saying, and I wouldn't have eavesdropped anyway; it would be against the rules. Monk Wei was very patient, waiting with me the entire time. He sat there almost motionless, like a monk in deep meditation, constantly turning a string of prayer beads in his hand. He really did look like a high-ranking master.

Soon, Jin Sanshou emerged from the back room and asked for my bank account number, saying someone was willing to buy the entire lot. I had opened an account previously, so I provided the number. Jin Sanshou made an "OK" gesture and told me to leave the items there, adding that the money would basically be in my account by tomorrow and that he would provide an itemized list then.

Before I could say anything, Monk Wei stood up, smiled, and told me, "Don't worry, little brother. Old Jin is reliable. Just go back and wait."

Since this was a massive sum of money, I was still somewhat uneasy, but since Monk Wei had vouched for him, I didn't want to show my lack of trust and look small-minded. I nodded and followed Monk Wei out of the courtyard.

Before we left, Jin Sanshou gave me a deposit of two hundred thousand. I initially refused—having chosen to trust him, it felt petty to take a deposit—but he insisted it was the rule, so I stopped pushing the issue.

That night, I called Zhang Cheng to tell him I had some business to attend to and wouldn't be staying at his place. He was worried, so he said he’d take tomorrow off to keep me company. I hesitated, then agreed, planning to tell him my intentions the next day.

Monk Wei drove me to a night market and treated me to some food. While eating, he asked about the whereabouts and recent situation of Black Sunglasses. In truth, I wasn't particularly close to Black Sunglasses, though we had indeed shared life-or-death experiences a few times. We weren't exactly best friends, so I gave him a vague answer, adapting my own story slightly, which was mostly the same version I’d told Zhang Cheng.

Monk Wei said indignantly, "In recent years, the people of the Four Gates have truly become too overbearing. Many independent operators have been forced to change professions or have been annexed by them. Now, they are the ones who call all the shots in the trade."

Because I am not an insider, I didn't fully understand their jargon, but I grasped the general meaning. Monk Wei explained that the trade used to be very prosperous, but as time went on, the number of excavated tombs increased. Resources, however, are finite. Most of the easily discovered tombs are gone, and what remains are mostly large tombs deep in the mountains and forests. These are almost entirely monopolized by the Four Gates. It’s not impossible for others to touch them, but one must report to the Four Gates according to the territory.

If the Four Gates don't want to excavate a particular tomb, you can do it, but everything you find must be handed over to their distribution center, and you have to accept whatever price they offer. If you try to sell elsewhere, it could lead to disaster. As a result, the Four Gates now control the market, and most valuable antiques or sensational finds are in their hands.

For years, the people of the Four Gates have bullied others and acted with total impunity, which has long since stirred public anger. Unfortunately, they have the power and the influence, with deep-rooted connections to high-ranking officials in the mainstream world. Even if people are dissatisfied, there is nothing they can do; they simply cannot compete.

Monk Wei spoke with such indignation. As we drank, I learned more about him. He didn't treat me as an outsider, mostly because he didn't treat Black Sunglasses as one. He assumed I was close to Black Sunglasses and thus treated me as one of his own, speaking quite freely.

It turned out his nickname wasn't for nothing. In his youth, Monk Wei had been a disciple at the Shaolin Temple and had mastered a great deal of martial arts. Later, after descending the mountain a few times, his resolve wavered. Unable to endure the austere life on the mountain, he eventually returned to secular life.