How did hiring someone to press a pig image during Chinese New Year become a top trend?

The leather seats of the extended Jinbei van were a bit slippery, and Xu An huddled in the corner, her legs pressed together tighter than a young woman's.

Across from him, Jin Ye's round face was plastered with a greasy smile, and he was rubbing two blunt lion's head walnuts in his hands with a crackling sound.

"Uncle An, your outfit is quite impressive!"

Jin gave a thumbs up, his eyes scanning Xu An's faded military overcoat several times.

"In this industry now, those wearing Tang suits are scammers, and those wearing suits are insurance salesmen. Only your 'battle-damaged' military overcoat has a genuine, 'freshly dug' feel to it! Authentic!"

Xu An's lips twitched slightly.

What do you mean by "raw pit" and "cooked pit"?

This is what my grandfather wore when he was a bouncer; the cotton inside is all lumped together.

"Um... Brother, Master Jin, I'm really not some kind of master."

Xu An hugged the canvas bag in his arms even tighter, trying to explain.

"I'm just here to deliver a letter. I'll leave right away; my pigs at home are waiting to be fed."

Upon hearing this, Jin Ye's eyes lit up even more.

"Listen to this! Listen to everyone!"

Jin Ye sighed to the few bald underlings beside him.

"What is a realm of understanding? This is a realm of understanding! Holding the legacy of the 'Ghost Hand' Old Nian'er in his hand, yet his mind is only on feeding pigs! This is called profound wisdom appearing as foolishness! This is called returning to simplicity!"

Xu An was in despair.

We can't talk today.

In the eyes of this group of people, even if he farted now, it would probably smell like sandalwood with a patina.

The car braked suddenly and stopped in front of a gray, antique-style building complex.

We've arrived at Panjiayuan.

Xu An originally thought that since it was a workday, there would be fewer people.

As soon as the car door opened, a wave of heat mixed with the hawking of vendors hit him squarely in the face.

"Come and take a look! A freshly unearthed bronze jue (wine vessel), it still smells earthy!"

"The chamber pot used by Emperor Qianlong! Guaranteed authentic! If it's not genuine, I'll drink it myself!"

Crowds of people.

The stalls were filled with all sorts of "national treasures," some real and some fake, a dazzling array that was hard to resist.

As soon as Mr. Jin got out of the car, the once noisy street market area instantly became half quiet.

"Hey, Master Jin's here!"

"Hey Jin, who's the big shot you brought to cause a ruckus today?"

With his large belly protruding, Jin Ye, like an icebreaker, managed to squeeze a path through the sea of ​​people.

He didn't say anything, but pointed mysteriously at Xu An, who was cowering behind him.

Xu An carried the birdcage, buried his face in his scarf, wishing he could shrink his head into his chest.

But to those around him, this set of actions—bowing his head, shrugging his shoulders, and putting his hands in his pockets—was the standard entrance pose of a "hidden monk."

The number of viewers in the live stream soared to two million.

[ID Panjiayuan Local Snake]: Holy crap! Isn't that Master Jin? He's actually leading the way himself? Just who is this guy in the military coat?

[ID: Uncle Xujiacun]: Anzi, don't be a coward! Stand up straight! We, the Xu family, can't lose face wherever we go!

[ID Appraisal Expert]: Look closely at that birdcage! Although the cover is black, it has excellent breathability. The fact that the bird doesn't chirp shows that the bird keeper is very skilled!

If Xu An could see the comments, he would probably burst into tears on the spot.

The bald man wasn't making a sound because he was too scared to speak.

Jin led Xu An to the most central stall in the street vendor area.

The berth was covered with a red cloth, on which were placed only three things: a pen holder, a jade pendant, and a purple clay teapot.

"Uncle An, now that you're here, we can't let you leave empty-handed."

Mr. Jin looked sincere as he pointed to the purple clay teapot.

"This is a teapot by Gu Jingzhou that I acquired not long ago, and it cost me this much."

Jin Ye held up five fingers and flipped them over.

Five hundred thousand.

"This was a friend's price. Mr. An, please take a look. If it's genuine, I'll give you this pot as a gift; if it's fake..."

A ruthless glint flashed in Jin Ye's eyes.

"I overturned that teapot stall!"

The crowd of onlookers instantly formed a metal barrel around it.

This is a public "treasure contest"!

All eyes were on Xu An.

Xu An looked at the purple clay teapot.

He has no idea about this!

In his eyes, this pot was not as good as the jar that Grandpa Wang at the village entrance used to store tobacco leaves; the spout was so small that it was difficult to pour water.

But he dared not say he didn't know.

Because if he says "I don't know," Jin Ye will definitely think he's disdainful of giving his opinion.

Xu An could only remain silent.

Dead silence.

He stood with his hands tucked inside his pockets, staring intently at the pot, sweat beading on his forehead.

In Jin Ye's eyes, this silence was a "silent denial".

Jin Ye's expression began to change.

"What's wrong, Master An? This pot... doesn't meet your standards?"

Xu An panicked even more.

He instinctively wanted to wave his hand in refusal.

Just then.

Er Tu Zi, who had been pretending to be dead, saw the purple clay teapot through the gap in the black cloth.

To create an aged look, a layer of something resembling mud was applied to the lid of the Yixing teapot.

As a bird that grew up in the countryside, Ertuzi was very familiar with this color and texture.

And so, at this moment that everyone is watching with bated breath.

This mixed-breed myna bird, which speaks only Henan, Tianjin, and Tangshan dialects, has provided its professional assessment.

"Shit! Shit! Dirty! Dirty!"

The sound is crisp and has a strong penetrating power.

The entire room fell silent.

Jin Ye's face twitched violently twice.

The onlookers stared wide-eyed, not daring to utter a sound.

Xu An's vision went black, and he almost knelt on the ground.

It’s over.

This time, I'm really going to be buried in Panjiayuan.

however.

next second.

Jin Ye suddenly grabbed the purple clay teapot worth 500,000 yuan and slammed it to the ground.

"Snapped!"

With a crisp sound, the purple clay teapot shattered into pieces.

"Good! Well said!"

Jin Ye blushed and cheered loudly.

"I always felt something was off about this patina; it had a sour smell! Turns out it was fermented with that stuff!"

"Master An is truly a master! He didn't even bother to talk to me, he just sent the bird to scold me awake!"

"This bird is amazing! It's like the judge of Panjiayuan!"

The surrounding crowd erupted in thunderous applause.

"Awesome! That's true mastery!"

"Using a bird as a mirror—such a thing is unheard of!"

Xu An stared wide-eyed at the broken pieces on the ground, then looked at Jin Ye, who was filled with admiration.

Has this world gone mad?

My bird says it's poop, and you actually believe it?

Five hundred thousand!

That's enough to build three houses in our village!

Xu An's heart was bleeding; it was a pain of heartache for these spendthrift sons.

"Mr. Jin... can we stop falling?"

With a sob in his voice, Xu An finally managed to squeeze out a sentence.

"I'm here to find someone."

Upon hearing this, Master Jin immediately put on a smiling face and bent down even lower.

"You tell me! In Panjiayuan, I can find even an ant for you!"

Xu An took out the brown paper envelope from his pocket and carefully read out the name.

"Street vendor area, number 402... Wang Dachui."

Upon hearing this name...

The once noisy crowd suddenly fell into an eerie silence.

Jin Ye's smile froze.

He stared blankly at Xu An, then looked at the three words "Old Nian'er" on the envelope.

Sudden.

The fat man, who had just been so loud and arrogant, suddenly had tears in his eyes.

He didn't say anything, but silently turned to the side and waved to the group of bald thugs behind him.

"Everyone disperse! Stop crowding around! Master An is here on official business!"

The crowd dispersed, leaving a passageway.

Jin walked ahead, and his back suddenly looked somewhat desolate and heavy.

"Uncle An, please come with me."

Jin Ye's voice was much lower, losing its previous江湖气气 and becoming more respectful.

"The 'Wang Dachui' you're looking for doesn't set up a stall."

Xu An followed behind nervously, carrying the birdcage.

They passed through the bustling jade area and the noisy calligraphy and painting area.

Finally, we arrived at a public toilet in the far corner of the market.

There was a very inconspicuous little shed there.

A tattered wooden sign hung at the entrance of the shed, which read: "Repairing stools, duplicating keys, sharpening scissors."

An old man wearing a gray Zhongshan suit was sitting on a small stool with his back to them.

The old man, with a full head of white hair, was holding a carving knife and struggling with a walnut.

His movements were slow, but extremely steady.

With each cut, you have to blow a breath to remove the debris.

In this market rife with interests and lies, this corner is as quiet as if it were in another time and space.

Jinye stopped three meters away from the shed.

He straightened his collar, put the priceless string of beads in his hand into his pocket, and stood with his hands at his sides like a schoolboy who had made a mistake.

"Father, someone's here."

Jin called out softly.

father?

Xu An was stunned.

This Mr. Jin, who can command respect in Panjiayuan, is actually the son of this old man who repairs stools.

And this old man is called "Wang Dachui"?

The contrast between this name and this temperament is too great, isn't it?

The old man didn't turn around, nor did he stop carving with his knife.

"Who is it? The stool is on the left, the key duplication is on the right. If you want to hear a story, turn right and go to the teahouse. I don't have any here."

The voice was hoarse, like the sound of old wood being rubbed together.

"I'm not a repairman."

Jin Ye glanced at Xu An, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"They're from Xujia Village."

"With... a letter from Uncle Old Nian'er."

"Click."

A very faint, crisp sound.

The old man's half-carved walnut suddenly had a corner chipped off.

That's a top-quality "Four Buildings" lion's head meatball, which would cost at least several thousand yuan on the market.

The old man's hand trembled, and the carving knife slipped, leaving a bloody cut on his finger.

But he seemed oblivious.

He turned around slowly.

It was a face covered in wrinkles, with small but extremely bright eyes that seemed to have an X-ray-like penetrating power.

His gaze passed over Master Jin and landed directly on Xu An.

To be precise.

It landed on the brown paper envelope that Xu An was holding in his arms.

I watched it for a full minute.

The old man suddenly grinned and smiled.

That smile, with all the wrinkles on her face squeezed together, revealed a childlike sense of grievance.

"Old wretched, oh old wretched..."

"You coward!"

"Thirty years! You've finally decided to show your face!"

The old man slammed the carving knife on the table with such force that it kicked up a cloud of dust.

"Give it to me!"

The old man stretched out his hand to Xu An. His hand was covered with calluses and scars, and wood chips were embedded in his fingernails.

Xu An dared not delay and quickly stepped forward, handing over the letter with both hands.

"Grandpa, I am Xu An. Old Nian'er was my grandfather from the same clan. He... passed away several years ago."

Xu An explained in a low voice.

The old man's hand stiffened for a moment.

The hand that had originally wanted to grab the envelope suddenly became cautious.

He gently took the envelope, as if catching a snowflake that was about to melt.

"Gone?"

"Did you feel uncomfortable when you left?"

Xu An shook his head.

"I wasn't feeling unwell, so I fell asleep in the armchair, holding an ink line in my hand."

The old man nodded, tears silently streaming down his face.

"That's good, that's good."

"In this life, apart from that ink line, there's nothing else he can't let go of."

The old man didn't rush to open the letter.

Instead, they dragged out a dusty toolbox from under the stool.

It opened with a "click".

There was no gold or silver jewelry inside.

There was only a rusty hammer and a set of chisels that were still sharp.

The hammer had two words engraved on its handle: "Big Hammer".

Xu An immediately recognized that the handwriting was exactly the same as the handwriting on the envelope.

That was carved by Uncle Lao Nian'er.

In the live stream, those netizens who originally wanted to watch the excitement all fell silent.

[ID: Palace Museum Restorer]: That's... a standard hammer passed down from the Qing Dynasty Imperial Workshop! This old man is a true inheritor of the imperial woodworking tradition!

[ID: Beijing Playboy]: Wang Dachui! I remember now! There was a legend in Beijing thirty years ago called "Southern Withered, Northern Hammer"! It was about two carpenters, one who could bring wood to life, and the other who could perfect mortise and tenon joints!

[ID Xujiacun Accountant]: No wonder Uncle Lao Nian always stared blankly at that ink line before he died. It turns out that his other half of his soul was in this capital city.

The old man placed the envelope on the toolbox, as if inviting an old friend to take a seat.

He opened the envelope.

What fell out wasn't a letter.

It was a ball made of wood...

The ball was about the size of a fist, with a perfectly smooth surface and no gaps, as if it had been made from a single piece of wood.

But inside the ball, something seemed to be moving, making a "tap-tap" sound.

This is an extremely complex Luban lock ball, also known as the "Kongming lock".

The old man picked up the wooden ball and shook it near his ear.

A defiant expression suddenly appeared on her face, which was originally streaked with tears.

"Alright, old man."

"You've been planning this for thirty years."

"Back then, we made a bet. I said there was no lock in the world that couldn't be unlocked, and you said there was no heart that couldn't be locked up."

"You said you wanted to make a lock that I could never unlock in my entire life."

"Is this your topic?"

The old man took a deep breath, and his eyes instantly sharpened.

He picked up the chisel from the toolbox, but didn't move it.

Because the Luban lock cannot be broken by brute force.

This is a contest of wits.

Xu An stood to the side, watching the old man who had just been repairing a stool now exuding a master-like aura, and dared not even breathe loudly.

Jin Ye also held his breath and retreated two meters away.

"Hey, Baldy, shut up."

Xu An whispered a warning to the myna bird in the cage.

But this time, Er Tuzi was unusually quiet.

It tilted its head, staring at the wooden ball, as if it too was intimidated by this aura.

The old man's fingers flew across the wooden ball, searching for the one and only "gate of life".

One minute.

Two minutes.

Sudden.

The old man pressed his finger on a very subtle texture on the wooden ball.

A gentle push.

"Click".

A crisp sound.

The wooden ball, which had been perfectly integrated, suddenly blossomed like flower petals.

There were no rare treasures inside.

There was only a neatly folded strip of paper and a shriveled red bean.

The old man picked up the note with trembling hands.

There were a few sentences above, written in that crooked, messy handwriting:

Hammer, this lock is called a "Love Lock".

"Once it's resolved, we're even."

The red beans were what you lost to me back then, and now I'm returning them to you.

Stop holed up in Panjiayuan repairing stools, it's time to get out there and get out in the open.

Our craft must not be lost.

The old man looked at the red bean, then at the words.

Sudden.

He grabbed the hammer with his name engraved on it and slammed it down on the worktable for repairing stools in front of him.

"Bang!"

The worktable that had been with him for over a decade was instantly shattered into pieces.

"Fatty Kim!"

The old man roared, his voice no longer hoarse, but booming like a great bell.

Jin Ye shuddered and rushed over: "Father! What are your orders!"

The old man carefully placed the red bean into his inner pocket.

Then he stood up straight.

At that moment, the hunched old man who used to repair stools disappeared.

In its place came "Wang Dachui," who was famous throughout Beijing back then.

"Close the shop!"

"Get the car ready!"

"Where to?" Jin asked.

The old man glanced at Xu An, then at the wooden ball that had already been untied.

"Let's go to the Forbidden City!"

"I'm going to fix the threshold of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, which has been broken for twenty years!"

"Old Nian is right, the craft must not be lost!"

"He left his soul in Xujia Village, so I must uphold this responsibility and make it a reality in the capital!"

As Xu An watched this scene, a surge of emotion welled up inside him.

This is what a craftsman is.

This is what inheritance is all about.

A letter, a ball, a red bean.

It awakened a sleeping lion.

In the live stream, countless "tribute" messages flooded the screen.

Xu An hugged the birdcage in his arms tightly.

He suddenly realized that he was delivering more than just a letter on this mission.

It is a spark.

Just then, the bald guy next to him suddenly became restless again.

It looked at the untied wooden ball, then at the old man exuding an aura of authority.

Perhaps it felt the atmosphere was too serious and needed its "straight man" role to shine.

So it opened its mouth and, in that extremely irritating tone, mimicked the old man's voice and shouted:

"Screw it! Screw it! We're even! We're even!"

The originally solemn atmosphere instantly collapsed.

The old man turned his head, looked at the bird, and suddenly smiled.

"This bird is quite good; it seems to understand human nature."

"Young man, can I borrow this bird for a couple of days?"