Chapter 8: The winding path has its own secluded spots

  After finishing the "reunion" dinner, Xiao Wan and the other two went to school. Xue Xiang moved the grain and dishes he had bought back into the kitchen, and then swept away the remaining buns and fried dough sticks in one swift motion, devouring over three catties worth in a flurry of wolfish gulps. Xue Xiang made himself a cup of tea, leaned against the sofa with his legs propped up on the dining table, and began to ponder his future path. He didn't know where he would go or what he would do, although he had set his sights on making a name for himself, he still didn't know where he belonged, so he might as well take it slow.

  Xue Xiang suppressed the anxiety in his heart, and with a sense of determination, he decided to focus on the most pressing matter at hand - eating. After all, it was still a question of money. Although he had "robbed" a group of cyclists and obtained over 100 yuan, he had already spent more than half of it on a good meal. Adding his original 30-odd yuan, he barely had over 100 yuan left. Next, he would have to buy food and other necessities for his three younger siblings, which wouldn't last long. Although the revolutionary committee provided them with living expenses every month, totaling over 60 yuan for the four of them, it was enough to eat, but not enough to maintain the life he had in mind. Xue Xiang didn't want his whole family to join the beggars' gang. He hadn't planned to live a frugal and miserable life; after all, he had seen more than most people in his decades of experience. If he couldn't even support his younger siblings, he might as well find a block of tofu and knock himself out.

  These days, there are very few ways to make money, and relying on business methods is not feasible at all. Even the old lady selling eggs has to go to a collection station, and she can only raise a few chickens, accumulating only thirty or so eggs in a month. Continuing to rob the flying car party would indeed bring in quick cash, but they're not idiots either, constantly crashing into you, how could you deliberately catch them?

  Xue Xiangsi was at a loss, thinking and thinking, but couldn't come up with a solution. He thought so hard that his head hurt, and he suddenly kicked the edge of the table with one foot. The table crashed to the ground, and Xue Xiang quickly got up to help it up. This was one of the few "tables" in the house, and if it broke, eating would be a problem.

  Xue Xiang used his hand to gently lift the table upwards, but surprisingly, he couldn't budge it. He added more strength and finally lifted the table up. Xue Xiang was curious, so he grasped one corner of the table with his left hand and lifted it up. He weighed it in his hand and estimated that it was over 200 catties.

  What kind of wood was this heavy? Only then did Xue Xiang carefully examine the table. The table was about 15 centimeters long, about 10 centimeters wide, and its surface and four legs were painted with yellow paint, making it impossible to see any texture.

  Xue Xiang turned the table over and observed the bottom of the table. He saw that the color was dark purple, the texture was extremely long, and it had a twisted thread-like pattern, very similar to the hair on a cow's back. When he leaned in close, he could faintly smell a fragrance.

  This wasn't just any ordinary wood - it was none other than the famous Zitan wood of later generations! Xue Xiang was overjoyed.

  In his past life, Xue Xiang was not a professional in collecting and appraising antiques, but he was an enthusiastic collector. At that time, the popular CCTV program "Treasure Hunt" was on air, and he never missed an episode. Xue Xiang had a special fondness for zitan wood, and of course, he knew its basic characteristics. He was 100% sure that this was a piece of zitan wood furniture. If it were porcelain, paintings, or other types of cultural relics, Xue Xiang might not be so confident, as the techniques for making fake antiques had been perfected over thousands of years, even the Palace Museum had collected some counterfeit pieces. However, with zitan wood, its texture and color could be identified at a glance, and by weighing it, one could be almost certain. Moreover, this table was coated with yellow lacquer, obviously trying to conceal its true nature, but counterfeiters wouldn't go to such great lengths. Xue Xiang carefully scraped off a small piece of varnish from the leg of the table, revealing a smooth, silky luster, confirming that it was indeed zitan wood.

  Purple sandalwood is one of the most valuable woods in the world, with a hard and dense texture, extremely heavy quality, sinking into water immediately. It is the top wood for making furniture, exclusively used by royal nobles, and has long been favored by scholars, officials, and dignitaries. Purple sandalwood grows with difficulty, usually only about 15 cm in diameter, rarely thick and sturdy, with twisted trunks and many hollows, making it extremely difficult to become a usable material. Therefore, pieces of purple sandalwood furniture as large as this desk are extremely rare. At the end of the Qing dynasty, the famous red-top businessman Hu Xueyan collected a giant desk, treasuring it like a precious jewel. Later, this desk changed hands several times, passing through centuries, and finally entered the palace in 2000, becoming an imperial treasure for displaying giant calligraphy works.

  At this time, the purple sandalwood was precious, but it had not reached the point where an inch of it would be worth a fortune. Xue Xiang knew that the future price of purple sandalwood would be terrifyingly high, increasing in value by tens of thousands of times compared to now. Xue Xiang never thought of selling this piece of purple sandalwood because he loved it too much and had never owned one in his past life, so how could he bear to let go of it now? Moreover, the appearance of the purple sandalwood had opened up a way for him to make money - reselling antiques.

  At that time, although private economy was not allowed, it did not prohibit you from selling your own household items. As long as you brought your household registration book, you could go to the commission office to handle the transaction. Xue's plan was "to quietly enter the village and shoot without making a sound". He went to various alleys and villages in the suburbs to dig up old houses, buy them back at low prices, and then sell them to various commission offices in Beijing. Although there was a suspicion of speculation, as long as you were a little careful, the possibility of causing trouble was still very low.

  Xue Xiang thought of reselling antiques at the same time, and also remembered another thing.

  That was eight years ago, when the catastrophe had just reached its peak. The young guards in Beijing were everywhere, looting and arresting people. At that time, his uncle had not yet been affected, and his uncle's older brother, Xue Dakou, was also the leader of a certain rebel group. Eight-year-old Xue Xiang saw them making a big fuss and followed Xue Dakou around every day, waving flags and shouting slogans when they looted and arrested people.

  That time, they went to a university professor's home. The old professor was over 70 years old, with no children, only a house full of books. Even now, Xue Xiang still remembers it clearly, walking into his home was like walking into a sea of paper and books. The house was very simple, without a kitchen or bedroom, only a small bathroom, the wide room was filled with 7 or 8 large bookshelves, the bookshelves were full of books. A small bed was placed in the middle of the bookshelves, he seemed to be sleeping in an ocean of books.

  When they went to his house, Xue Da's team was fully mobilized, more than a dozen people pulled 7 or 8 small carts and came with great fanfare. The old professor desperately tried to stop them from taking his books, but he was no match for the dozen or so "revolutionary young generals". In no time at all, he was beaten until he couldn't get up.

  Finally, they found a large black wooden box under his bed, with a big iron lock on it. At that time, more than a dozen people were delighted, thinking there must be treasure inside. They scolded the old man to hand over the key, but the old professor refused to give in. Xue Da didn't waste any words, and with one swing of his axe, the iron lock was broken open.

  As soon as the iron lock was broken, the old professor fainted. More than a dozen people rushed forward, eager to see how much gold and silver treasure the old man had hidden. When they opened the box, everyone was stunned - inside were two porcelain bottles, a painting, a few books, and nothing else.

  Everyone felt that they had been fooled by the old man, and some of them lost face. They shouted that they would bury these remnants of the bourgeoisie along with those rotten and backward books in the same place. The young generals pulled their carts and went to the East Hill burial ground.

  The burial ground was full of pits, surrounded by empty land, making it convenient for both burying bodies and burning "stolen goods" (without worrying about starting a fire). It was the perfect place to bury "rotten" things.

  That day was very windy, the sky was dark and gloomy, tens of thousands of books were piled up into a small mountain, it would take some time to burn them all, the young soldiers got impatient and left first, leaving Xue Xiang and another boy in his early teens watching the fire on the side. After a while, Xue Xiang and the other boy got tired from standing, they dragged over a black trunk that had been copied from the old professor's house and sat down back to back. The strong wind blew fiercely, burning half of the sky red, the sky became even more gloomy, with dark clouds pressing down extremely low, as if they were about to fall. After a while, most of the books had been burned, leaving only a small fire, the two got up and lifted the trunk from under their buttocks and pushed it into the fire. Just then, a loud crash of thunder boomed, and a heavy rain poured down, extinguishing the flames in an instant. It was June, but the children's faces were still pale, the storm came quickly and left just as fast, Xue Xiang and the other boy hadn't even found a place to take shelter before the rain stopped. The two walked over to the fire pit and saw that the trunk had only been slightly charred on the surface, they were already annoyed by the rain and eager to go home and change their clothes. They found a nearby ditch and carelessly pushed the trunk into it, using their feet to push some floating soil and grass to cover it up hastily. Afterwards, just a few days later, Xue Xiang heard that the old professor had died and was buried in the same cemetery where they had burned the books. Later, he heard from Xue Dangou that the old professor was a historian at Beijing University, an old stubborn reactionary who refused to reform, and had hanged himself in his home on the day of the book burning.

  The dusty memories sparked Xue Xiang's curiosity, and he vaguely felt that the things in the black box were definitely not simple, deciding to sneak into the chaotic burial mound tonight.

  Xue Xiang glanced at the time and saw that it was already past 9 o'clock. He got up, tidied up the main room, and moved the purple sandalwood desk into his own room. Such a precious item, how could Xue Xiang bear to use it as a dining table? It ended up with the same fate as the tiger skin wallet, being collected and stored away.

  The purple sandalwood plank ended its history as a dining table, but new problems arose. What to do about meals in the future? Easy! The great leader taught us that we should take matters into our own hands and be self-sufficient. Xue decided to make a dining table himself. He got to work right away, searching for hammers and nails in the storage room, as well as some wooden planks and strips. With a series of clangs, he worked busily for half a day, and a brand new rectangular table was born. However, Xue's newly made table had four legs that leaned in one direction, and it couldn't stand upright at all. As soon as someone let go, the table would collapse. It seemed that theory and practice were always at odds with each other. Taking matters into his own hands might also lead to poverty and hunger, Xue thought to himself with a wry smile.

  Xue Xiangzheng was worried about the new disabled table, and Lei Xiaotian and his five companions arrived together.