CHAPTER 9: CHAPTER 9: COLLECTING SCRAP

Li Zhuoyue had hotpot with us, and returning to the rental apartment, it was already past ten at night.

Little Yellow Hair eagerly hoped to go for a foot spa, but ultimately it didn’t happen as he wished.

The reason was at the dinner table earlier, he mustered up the courage to have a few drinks with Xiao Fang, and then he passed out drunk. Qi Yun struggled greatly to drag this guy back...

Lying in bed and taking out the phone, he was greeted by two messages.

One was sent by Old Feng: "Buddy, I know things aren’t going well for you now, no rush to pay back the remaining money."

The other was sent by Peng Ge: "Come over to my house for a drink tomorrow evening, Old Feng and the others will be there too. If you don’t come, I’ll personally pick you up."

Qi Yun helplessly replied with: "Alright."

He set the phone down and within two minutes, fell into a deep sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, it was morning.

With a thought, a familiar light screen appeared.

[Today’s Intel (White): Uncle Li living in Building 3 of Star Wish District is preparing to clear junk from his home,

amongst which there is an old pen wash made by a famous artist from the late Qing to the early Republic era, valued at approximately ten thousand in the antique market]

Ten thousand!

Qi Yun’s heart skipped a beat, more thrilling than any ten thousand he had earned before.

Now he works himself to exhaustion every day, delivering meals during the day, selling fried rice at night, saving just barely a ten thousand each month through frugality.

This intel is nothing less than a strong stimulant for him.

"Going directly to buy it definitely won’t work, being too direct will cause them to be suspicious."

He lit a cigarette, and after a bit of thought, had an idea.

...

Today’s weather was nice, the sun hung high, warming people comfortably.

In Star Wish District, Qi Yun rode a tricycle, carrying several sheets of waste cardboard in the cargo.

To look like an authentic junk collector, he specially removed the fried rice advertisement from the tricycle.

In front of Building 3, two elderly men were sitting there playing chess, focused intently.

Qi Yun stood waiting quietly beside them, until they finished a game before smilingly asking: "Grandpas, do you have any junk or odds and ends to sell at home?"

One old man, perhaps having lost the previous round, was in a bad mood and waved impatiently: "Not selling, not selling, quit bothering us."

The other old man put down his teacup and laughed heartily: "Old Li, you can’t handle losing, hahaha."

Qi Yun didn’t mind, still smiling: "Alright, then I won’t disturb your chess game, grandpas."

Upon hearing the words ’Old Li’, he guessed that the Uncle Li mentioned in the intel was likely right in front of him.

With a turn of the eye, he got on the tricycle and began wandering nearby, the little loudspeaker hanging at the front lets out a magic chant: "Collecting junk~"

Each time he passed by Uncle Li, he would glance here irritably.

After ten minutes, he lost another game, angrily tossing the chess pieces: "No more!"

He turned his head and glared at Qi Yun who wasn’t far: "Hey kid, can’t you go elsewhere with your shouting?"

"Haha, did I disturb you? I’m really sorry, grandpa," Qi Yun smiled apologetically and promptly turned off the persistent little loudspeaker.

The granddad beside him laughed and advised: "Old Li, come on, what’s there to be upset about, let’s continue in the afternoon."

Uncle Li stood up, casting a disgruntled look at Qi Yun: "Collecting junk, right? Follow me upstairs."

"Alright!" Qi Yun responded and quickly followed.

Uncle Li lived on the second floor, although the residence was aged, the interior displayed a quaint, antique aesthetic.

The ebony screen in the living room itself appeared quite valuable.

"It’s this box, take it all away," Uncle Li pointed at a corner near the door, indicating a cardboard box as large as a washing machine.

Qi Yun bent down and rummaged through the box with his hands.

All he found were old books and magazines, nothing of the old pen wash.

Feeling somewhat anxious, but maintaining a calm demeanor.

"Grandpa, do you have any other junk to get rid of? I’ll take them all together, don’t worry, I’ll offer a good price."

Uncle Li sat on a chair to the side, coldly snorted: "Just this box, take it or leave it."

This old man really had quite a temper.

Qi Yun was contemplating extracting more information when suddenly a dog’s bark came from the staircase.

Soon, a graceful lady holding a snowy white Bichon came up.

"Oh, it’s you, big brother?"

The newcomer was indeed the woman who lost her dog the other night.

Qi Yun didn’t expect to meet her here, smilingly responding: "Ah, I’m collecting some junk around here."

The woman walked into the room with the dog, her face breaking into an enthusiastic smile: "What a coincidence, come have a sit and drink some water."

"Xiao Fei, do you know this kid?" Uncle Li looked at the woman, puzzled.

Xiao Fei turned to the old man explaining: "Dad, Dudu lost the other night, it was this big brother who helped find him."

Uncle Li nodded, his expression towards Qi Yun softened slightly.

"Hold on, I’ve got some clutter in the study, originally planned to take it to the market when I have free time, you can take it all."

In a short while, Uncle Li brought out another cardboard box from the study and placed it in front of Qi Yun.

Qi Yun quickly stepped forward to assist, opened the box, inside were some old ink cartridges, yellowed writing guides, and several brushes.

At the bottom lay a seemingly inconspicuous pen wash, covered in a layer of dust, its color dull.

Yet in Qi Yun’s view, the old pen wash emitted a faint glow.

Inside, he was startled, discovering a new feature of the system.

"Grandpa, these brushes look pretty good, for everything, I will offer you two hundred yuan altogether, does that seem fair?"

Uncle Li nonchalantly nodded: "Alright."

Seeing the agreement, Qi Yun inwardly rejoiced, pulling out two hundred yuan in cash from his pocket to hand to the other.

After moving everything outside the door, he had no intention of staying long, politely declining Xiao Fei’s invitation.

The tricycle took two boxes straight to the nearest junkyard.

Only sold those old books and magazines for fifteen yuan, the rest were unwanted even if given away.

Riding the tricycle back to the apartment courtyard, Qi Yun wiped the old pen wash briefly with a towel, hopped on an electric scooter and headed to the antique market.

The market was more of a street than an actual market.

Flanked by rows of storefronts, the sides of the street also had vendors selling their wares.

A wide assortment of curious and quaint items adorned the area, looking through shop windows one could see all sorts of porcelain, art, jade objects filling the space.

"Qiuyue Pavilion," Qi Yun found the shop name appealing, so he went straight inside.

Inside, a corpulent and balding middle-aged man sat behind the counter, legs crossed, fiddling with a decent string of Buddha Beads.

Hearing footsteps, he casually raised his head, inspected Qi Yun from top to bottom, then swapped to an enthusiastic smile: "Brother, here to hunt for treasures or bring some good stuff?"