Old Jin City on the Wall

Chapter 22 The shopkeeper forbids it; do not take.

The man's palms were sweaty when he inserted the crowbar into the crack in the back window.

A voice in a low voice asked through the earpiece, "Is it on?"

"Don't rush me."

He stood at the alley entrance for more than two hours, waiting until the last shop closed its roller shutter before daring to go around to the back window of the teahouse.

"I'll ask one more time, are there any cameras inside?"

"I checked during the day, but it's not there."

"Where's the boss?"

"He's young, a man, and he lives in the shop. He goes to bed very early every day. Just be quiet. The woman left around 8 o'clock."

He hummed in agreement.

"Take the bronze stove first, then the bowl, and bring the pottery shards if you can, but don't touch the piece of wood on the table."

"That wood is valuable too?"

"If I tell you not to touch it, then don't touch it."

He pulled his hat brim down low and glanced at his phone again.

The screen is still on Xiaoyu's restaurant review video.

Qin Xiaowan walked past the counter carrying brown sugar glutinous rice cakes, and the camera only flickered for half a second.

There are three things in half a second.

Bronze furnace.

A teacup with deep cracks.

A grayish-brown shard of pottery.

The comments section is already buzzing with arguments.

"Something's wrong with that bronze stove."

"The real thing?"

Someone posted a screenshot of the auction.

The price is followed by a string of zeros.

Someone else said, "How could the real stuff be put in such a run-down teahouse?"

The person in the earpiece only said one sentence.

"A run-down teahouse is a good place to start."

He put down his phone and pressed the crowbar in.

Click.

The window latch is loose.

He put away the crowbar, stopped, and listened for a while.

There was no movement in the alley.

The aroma of old wood and tea leaves wafted out from the cracks in the window.

He climbed over, landing on his toes first.

"They're in."

"Don't turn on the light."

"know."

Turn the flashlight beam down to its lowest setting, shining it only on the ground, not on the walls.

The counter is right in front of me; all three items are there.

He first touched the bronze furnace.

The bronze stove was small, cool to the touch, and had a naturally deep rust color.

He held it up with both hands and lifted it upwards.

The bronze furnace remained completely still.

"I can't pick it up."

"Don't pretend."

"I really can't pick it up."

He changed his gesture, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged out.

The bronze incense burner remained stuck to the counter, not even an inch away.

I cursed into my headphones.

"Change the bowl."

The bowl is lighter.

The moment his fingertips touched the rim of the bowl, a tingling sensation crept up from under his fingernails.

It's not electricity.

Cold, fine, creeping up your bones.

He withdrew his hand.

"What's wrong now?"

"difficult to handle."

"Why would you prick your hand with a bowl?"

He didn't reply.

The flashlight beam flickered and swept across the storyteller's platform.

The gavel on the stage sat quietly, its reddish-brown color set against the black.

The person in the earpiece asked, "Where are you looking?"

"I didn't look anywhere."

"Don't touch that piece of wood."

The pottery shards are on the far side of the counter.

It was a dull gray color, the least noticeable one.

Some people in the video comments said that the more inconspicuous something is, the more likely it is to be genuine.

He reached out and pinched it.

Before I even touched it, there was a sound from inside the counter.

thump.

The sound wasn't loud.

The sound immediately went out of the headphones.

He froze.

"Feed?"

No one replied.

He huddled behind the counter and glanced around the teahouse.

The gavel on the storyteller's platform is still in the same place.

There was no one in the teahouse at all.

The murals on the wall were not clearly visible in the dark, with only a few patches of color being darker than the rest.

There was a crackling sound in the headphones.

The man's voice lowered: "Let's go."

"The stuff isn't here yet..."

"Walk!"

He gritted his teeth.

Come here.

Leaving empty-handed is worse than encountering a ghost.

He took a small crowbar out of his bag and inserted it into the gap on the side of the counter.

The wood is old.

A white mark appeared as soon as it was pried open.

The person in the earpiece yelled, "I told you to leave!"

The crowbar suddenly slipped.

His wrist suddenly sank down and hit the corner of the counter.

The pain was so intense that my vision went black.

The flashlight fell to the ground, its beam rolled around once, and shone directly onto the back wall.

The pale little tree on the wall appeared slightly darker in color when the light shone on it.

There is a bowl under the tree.

Beside the bowl, a person was lying.

He didn't see it clearly.

I didn't dare to look clearly.

All that could be heard in the headphones was static.

He picked up the flashlight, climbed out the window, and ran away.

When my foot landed, I kicked a flowerpot under the window.

The flowerpot didn't fall over.

It just shook slightly.

The teahouse fell silent again.

Neither the counter nor the storyteller's platform moved.

A black earphone rolled under the counter, lit up briefly, and then went out.

The key clicked into the lock.

Qin Xiaowan pushed open the door and came in carrying a bag of new rags. The first thing she looked at was the floor.

She couldn't get the red oil off the rag she used yesterday, and she complained about it all night. This morning, she passed by a general store and bought a new one.

People who have run skewers shops don't look at people first when they walk in.

First, check if the floor is clean, if the table is crooked, and if the chairs are in disarray.

The chairs weren't messed up today.

The table wasn't messy.

But there was a bit more mud under the rear window.

The mud stain was very light, extending intermittently from under the window to the counter.

Qin Xiaowan stopped.

A white stubble was visible on the side of the counter.

The wood was pried open a little, the bark was peeling off, very thin, and not noticeable unless you looked closely.

She squatted down but didn't touch the mark.

There's also a dark thing under the counter.

She poured the new rag onto the table, pinched the corner of the empty bag, and put the black thing inside.

I picked up the bag; inside was an earphone.

Qin Xiaowan tied a knot at the top of the bag before looking up.

"Wuling!"

Wu Ling came out from the back room, carrying a pot of boiling water.

"What's wrong?"

"Your teahouse was robbed last night."

Wu Ling's hand trembled, and some water spilled from the spout, almost scalding him.

"What?"

Qin Xiaowan pointed to the counter and then to the back window.

"Don't be stunned, examine the traces first."

Wu Ling put down the kettle and walked over.

The white stain on the side of the counter is very new.

There were also marks below the rear window.

The window latches had been pried open.

Wood chips are still on the windowsill.

Wu Ling went back to check inside the counter.

The bronze furnace is there.

The cracked bowl is there.

The pottery shards are also there.

The gavel on the storytelling stage was never lost.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Qin Xiaowan saw this and her anger flared up immediately.

"Are you even relieved?"

"Otherwise what?"

"Do you think everything's fine just because the things aren't lost?"

Qin Xiaowan took out her phone and opened Xiaoyu's video.

She dragged the progress bar to the middle, paused, and zoomed in.

It flashed past the corner of the counter.

"Look."

Wu Ling saw it.

"The shot is less than a second long, it should be fine, right? Besides, stealing is illegal."

"Thieves don't mind if the shot is too short."

Qin Xiaowan showed him the comments section.

Most people are still asking about the glutinous rice cakes, the address, and whether the owner is single.

Squeezed inside, a few of them had already started talking about the counter.

"That bronze stove at the counter is something special."

"The owner of this place probably doesn't know what's good for him."

After Wu Ling finished reading, he returned the phone to her.

"Netizens are talking nonsense; many comment sections say the same thing."

"Then tell me, what was the motive of the person who broke into your window last night? Others might not know, but do you think I don't know the value of your things?"

Wu Ling shut up.

Qin Xiaowan placed her phone face down on the counter.

"I took the book home and read it yesterday."

Wu Ling looked up.

"Finished watching?"

"I didn't finish watching it."

Qin Xiaowan took out "Dead Water Ripples" from her bag and placed it on the counter.

"Wu Ling, we've known each other since we were kids, don't treat me like a fool."

Wu Ling reached out to take the book back.

He stopped halfway through.

Qin Xiaowan looked at him.

"I won't ask you what happened with the back door, nor will I ask where this book came from."

She reached out and pointed to the counter.

"I only have one question to ask now."

"Won't these things cause you trouble?"

Wu Ling did not answer immediately.

This question is even harder to answer than "What exactly are you hiding from me?"

He glanced at the counter, then looked at "Dead Water Ripples".

"We've already provoked them."

"OK."

She put her bag on the counter and pulled out a new hardcover ledger.

Five characters have already been written on the first page.

Items that are not allowed to be sold.

The handwriting is not pretty; the strokes are too heavy.

Wu Ling looked at those words.

"You were prepared last night?"

"I'll wait until you're ready; this is the second time I've been caught doing this."

Qin Xiaowan turned the account book in front of him.

The first page is divided into three columns.

Who has seen or touched this thing?

"From now on, if anyone asks, takes photos, or tries it out, write it here."

Wu Ling remained silent.

Qin Xiaowan pointed to the bowl in the cabinet with her pen.

"Let's start with this."

"Cracked tea bowl".

"The name is too ordinary."

"Then take it."

Qin Xiaowan was very serious.

"A very expensive bowl with a crack."

"Is this what you call naming a child...?"

"Fine, let's just use your name, it's easier to remember."

She wrote: Cracked teacup.

The following lines include bronze incense burners, pottery shards, and the poem "Dead Water Ripples"—not one was missing.

He stopped writing on the fifth line.

She looked up at the storyteller's platform.

"And this too."

Wu Ling followed her gaze.

The gavel rested quietly on the stage.

"I won't write this."

Why?

"It was left to me by my grandfather."

"Wasn't the bronze incense burner left by your grandfather?"

Wu Ling was blocked for a moment.

Qin Xiaowan didn't laugh; instead, she tapped the ledger with her pen.

"The counter was pried open last night; the bronze stove, teacups, and pottery shards were all touched. Only this one is still on the counter. Just because the thief came in and didn't touch it doesn't mean it's safe."

She wrote on the fifth line: Awakening wood.

Two words were added at the end.

Carry it with you.

Wu Ling saw those two words.

"What do you mean?"

"It means that you shouldn't keep this thing too far away from you in the future."

Qin Xiaowan bit off the pen cap and spat it into her hand.

"You even hug it while you sleep on the floor, which means it's very meaningful even if it's not worth much money."

Wu Ling did not refute.

Qin Xiaowan flipped backward.

"Page two, who took the picture?"

"On page three, who asked about the price?"

"Page four, who touched it?"

Wu Ling felt overwhelmed; the teahouse already had enough to do every day.

"Are you in charge of the accounts or me?"

"All of them are under your jurisdiction."

"I have a problem with that."

"I'll hold it in."

Wu Ling smiled.

I stopped laughing when I saw the white mark on the side of the counter.

"That guy came in last night, pried it open, and touched it."

Qin Xiaowan closed the ledger.

"But nothing is missing, that's strange."

Wu Ling looked at the bronze furnace.

Qin Xiaowan said, "Please take this."

Wu Ling reached out; the bronze furnace was very light.

He handed it to Qin Xiaowan.

Qin Xiaowan took it, her wrist barely sinking.

Neither of them spoke.

After a few seconds, she put the bronze stove back in its original position.

"It's not that we failed to steal it."

she says.

"It can't be stolen."

Wu Ling looked at her.

Qin Xiaowan raised her hand to interrupt.

"Don't explain, I'm not asking now."

Her eyes swept from the back door to the mural on the wall, then back to the counter.

"But starting today, three things."

She held up one finger.

"The window needs fixing today."

The second one.

"No photos allowed at the counter."

The third one.

"Record everything: who saw these things, who touched them, who asked about them."

Wu Ling asked, "Aren't you afraid?"

Qin Xiaowan slammed the account book onto the counter.

"What's the use of being afraid? Does being afraid mean we don't have to fix the window?"

There was a soft sound coming from the back door.

The two of them stopped at the same time.

The door didn't open by itself; it was just the sound of the old wood expanding and contracting with the temperature.

Qin Xiaowan first looked away, then took out her phone and took a picture of the pry marks on the counter, the wood chips on the back window, and the black earphones.

Should we call the police?

Wu Ling asked.

"Just report it first."

Qin Xiaowan didn't even look up.

"They said someone broke in through the window, but nothing was stolen; they just left an earphone at the scene."

"The rest is unnecessary."

Wu Ling thought for a moment.

"for example?"

"For example, those things that you feel are not right."

She put her phone away.

"When reporting a crime, focus on evidence, not feelings."

"So preserve the evidence first."

She saved the photos to an album and created a new folder.

The name is: Teahouse Risk.

When Wu Ling saw those four words, his back tightened a little.

"Starting today, taking photos inside the counter is not allowed."

"It wasn't allowed to begin with."

"It's no use saying you can't. The way you are, when someone asks if you can take a picture, you just say 'whatever'."

Wu Ling thought for a moment.

broken.

He really did say that.

"Traffic can bring customers, but it can also bring thieves. You're running a teahouse, not an antique blind box shop."

Qin Xiaowan began making arrangements.

"We need to put a sign in front of the counter."

"What should I write?"

"No touching the inside of the counter."

Wu Ling frowned.

"Isn't it too hard?"

"The person who broke into your window last night probably thought you were pretty soft."

Wu Ling had no choice but to keep quiet.

Before three o'clock, Grandma Zhao was already sitting in her usual spot.

After Wu Ling began her lecture, her first words were:

Did you lose money?

Wu Ling put down the gavel.

"deficit."

There was a burst of laughter in the teahouse.

After Wu Ling and the others finished laughing, they continued talking about the water keeper.

In the first year, a lot of water was delivered, the shed was repaired three times, and two bowls were lost.

The water guardian did not pursue them.

The next day, he washed the remaining bowls and placed them under the tree as before.

Someone asked, "Aren't you going to keep displaying them? Aren't you afraid they'll get stolen again?"

The water guardian said, "I'm afraid."

"Then put it away."

"If you put it away, how will others drink water?"

The audience quieted down a bit.

Wu Ling glanced at the counter.

Qin Xiaowan was looking down at the account book.

"Later he hung a wooden sign next to the shed."

"There are four characters written on it."

Someone asked, "What?"

Wu Ling said, "You are not allowed to take the bowl."

Laughter broke out again in the teahouse.

Wu Ling smiled as well.

"Rules don't look good when they're written down."

"If you don't write it, there will always be people who think you don't need it."

When the store closed at night, the last gaiwan was placed back on the tea tray.

Qin Xiaowan pushed the account book to the back of the counter and placed "Dead Water Ripples" next to it.

"Not taking it back?"

"It's only useful if you stay here."

She locked the counter, paused her hand on the pry mark on the side, and then withdrew it.

"I'll get someone to fix the window tomorrow."

"Um."

"Add an internal lock, don't skimp on it."

"Um."

Qin Xiaowan glanced at the things in the cabinet.

"We'll talk about the rest tomorrow."

Qin Xiaowan slung her bag over her shoulder, walked to the door, and then stopped.

"Wu Ling".

"Um?"

"I won't ask you what happened with the back door."

She didn't turn around.

"But if you're not in the shop one day, leave me a message."

Wu Ling held the gavel, pressing his fingertips against the wood grain.

"know."

Qin Xiaowan then pushed open the door and went out.

With a soft ring of the old copper bell, only Wu Ling remained in the teahouse.

He stood there for a while, then put the gavel into his pocket.

A gust of wind blew in through the still-unrepaired back window, turning a page of Qin Xiaowan's newly written account book.

Wu Ling reached out, intending to close the ledger.

My finger stopped as soon as it touched the hard cover.

At the very bottom of the first page, a very faint line of text appeared at some point.

It's not Qin Xiaowan's handwriting.

It's not his either.

There are only six characters.

The shopkeeper forbids it; do not take it.

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