Chapter Three: The First Gamble on Jade

However, I wasn’t swayed by his words. I circled around once more and finally stopped before a piece of black jadeite. The skin of this material was excellent. Shining a light through it, I could see that the texture was old, the color vibrant. Although it was riddled with cracks, I was convinced there was color within.

Seeing that I’d finally made my choice, Liu Liang walked over impatiently. “Well? You fancy this one?”

I nodded. “How much is this piece?”

Liu Liang held up three fingers. “Thirty thousand.”

Thirty thousand?

I was stunned. In my mind, this piece, though decent, was worth at most fifteen thousand. Liu Liang was clearly trying to fleece me. But I only had twelve thousand in my account—not even enough to qualify for the purchase.

A wave of dejection washed over me. Was my first stone gamble to end just like this?

Just as I was at a loss, Sister Hong spoke up. “Tiger, how about we go in on this together?”

“Together? But…”

I hesitated. Joint gambling meant pooling funds. I did need a partner, but this was my first time! Even after three years of poring over my father’s notes, I still lacked confidence for my first attempt. If I lost, my image in Sister Hong’s eyes would plummet.

After a moment’s hesitation, I nodded firmly. First, because Sister Hong trusted me—she believed in me, so I had no reason to refuse. Second, I had no other choice. This was my only chance to turn things around, and I couldn’t let it slip by.

“How much do you have?” she asked.

I immediately handed her my card. “Twelve thousand.”

Liu Liang smiled as he took my card. My heart ached as I handed it over—this was my savings from the past three years. My monthly salary was only four thousand; with tips, never more than six.

Sister Hong didn’t hesitate; she quickly covered the rest of the cost.

Sitting on the ground, I stared at the piece of black jadeite, nerves prickling beneath my skin. This was my first gamble—if I lost, these years would’ve been for nothing. I might even lose my job.

“Young man, are we cutting it or not?”

“Cut it!”

Now that the purchase was made, there was no turning back. I could only forge ahead.

The factory had a master stone cutter. I walked over and handed him a cigarette.

These stone-cutting masters were worth their weight in gold. They’d cut more stones than they’d eaten bowls of rice. A slip of the hand, and your material could be ruined.

The cutter’s surname was Zhang, a man in his fifties. He accepted my cigarette without a word and lit it.

“How do you want to cut it, kid?”

How to cut? This was no joke. A single wrong slice, and all could be lost.

Seeing my hesitation, Master Zhang chuckled. He took a drag and said, “The skin looks good, but there are a lot of cracks. My guess is there’s not much color inside. If you’re bold, go for a straight cut. If not, just scrape the skin.”

I crouched down, examining the spot illuminated by the light for a long time. Then I stood, picked up a piece of chalk, and drew a line on the stone. “Master Zhang, let’s cut along this line.”

Master Zhang was surprised by my bold, straight line. “Are you sure, kid?”

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

He said nothing more, fired up the machine, and began to cut.

With the harsh screech of the saw, my heart leapt into my throat.

One cut poor, one cut rich, one cut to rags—my fate, Wang Hu’s fate, now rested with the heavens.

Bang!

A crisp sound as the stone split open. My heart seemed to stop; I didn’t dare look.

“Not bad—Imperial Green! Only half the piece, but you can sell it for hundreds of thousands!” Master Zhang’s words set my blood roaring with excitement.

Imperial Green—it was Imperial Green!

Imperial Green was the most prized, the richest, most saturated, and valuable green in all of jadeite. Its hue was pure and intense, almost blue in feeling but truly green.

Though I was a novice, I knew well what Imperial Green signified. It was something money couldn’t even buy—priceless on the market!

The crowd grew restless, all eyes fixed on me, their gazes full of shock.

Even Sister Hong regarded me with newfound respect, whispering, “Little Tiger, not bad at all. You really got it right!”

I smiled awkwardly. In truth, I hadn’t guessed—I’d deduced it from features on the stone’s surface. But now wasn’t the time to explain; I’d tell her another day.

“My, young man, your luck is extraordinary! You actually hit upon Imperial Green. In all my years, I’ve never seen it!” Liu Liang’s tone had changed to one of obsequious flattery.

“How about this—leave your Imperial Green with me, and I’ll sell it on your behalf?”

Liu Liang was certainly a businessman, always looking for a free ride.

I glanced at Sister Hong, and she immediately understood, waving her hand dismissively. “Boss Liu, that’s not going to work. Little Tiger is with me. Anything he discovers will be sold through me.”

Liu Liang’s smile froze, and he mumbled a few words before falling silent. It was clear he was wary of Sister Hong. I wondered what her background was to make someone like Liu Liang so cautious.

By the time we left the stone factory, dusk had fallen.

Sister Hong tossed me her car keys. “Come on, big sis is taking you out for a feast!”

I swallowed—truth was, I was starving, having barely eaten all day.

I drove us to an upscale restaurant. Sister Hong ordered several specialties, and I devoured them like a whirlwind.

“Slow down, no one’s going to take your food,” she said gently, smiling.

I looked up at her. Her delicate profile, bathed in the warm glow of the lights, was breathtaking. I couldn’t help but stare.

She seemed to sense my gaze, her cheeks flushing as she cleared her throat softly.

I snapped back to myself, lowering my head in embarrassment.

“By the way, I’ve never heard you mention your family. What do your parents do?” she asked casually.

“My parents are both gone,” I replied, my expression clouding over.

She looked at me with a touch of pity. “Sigh, I’m an orphan too. I lost my parents young. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of my village, I would’ve starved long ago.”

Her eyes grew distant, as if recalling painful memories. I hadn’t expected someone as wealthy as Sister Hong to be an orphan as well.

“But I don’t mind anymore. Living alone suits me—no ties, no burdens.”