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墨書 Inktalez
Once a man's heart has left you, how could it easily return?
But I didn't want to deny her even the chance to make a wish, so I nodded in agreement. As I exited the visiting room, a police officer immediately stopped me and asked about the Amulet. I replied that it was a type of Thai craft, similar to the Bodhisattva pendants from the mainland, quite effective; did he want one?
The officer scoffed and shook his head, saying, "What nonsense! It's meaningless and a waste of money!"
After leaving the police station, I followed Aunt Tang's address to find her home. Her husband was inside packing things up, throwing almost everything related to Aunt Tang into boxes. It seemed he was preparing to discard it all.
I conveyed Aunt Tang's wishes to him, but this man looked at me with disdain and said, "That cruel woman? What's there to admire? A murderer, a lunatic!"
Seeing his reaction, I knew there was no need to say more. I then took Aunt Tang's Ghost Wife Nana card from him with a very simple reason. He regarded Aunt Tang's belongings with such contempt that he couldn't even be bothered to throw them away properly. I glanced at the Amulet and faintly sensed the Yin Qi within it. The woman on the Amulet appeared somewhat blurry; she seemed to be both smiling and crying.
Looking at this Amulet, I wondered if Aunt Tang were truly convicted of murder, would she laugh or would she cry?
Was it worth doing this for someone who would never return?
I wasn't quite clear on Aunt Tang's fate and didn't dare to ask that classmate for fear of hearing the worst outcome. To put it in modern terms, at that time, I had a fragile heart like glass. I preferred to be an ostrich rather than confront painful truths.
Later, I flew to Thailand. To my surprise, Second Uncle had also returned and was discussing matters with Grandpa. When he saw me, his expression was cold; he only nodded slightly after I greeted him first. His icy demeanor was quite uncomfortable. Grandpa smiled and waved at me, asking why I hadn't called ahead.
I replied that it wasn't my first time here; I could just find a ride after getting off the plane; nothing would go wrong.
Second Uncle interjected in somewhat stiff Chinese, "It's not about losing people; it's about losing face."
I was taken aback, not understanding why he spoke in such a roundabout way. Grandpa chuckled and said, "Alright, Third Brother, you should head back. We can't afford to be short-handed over there. I need to have a good talk with my eldest grandson."
Second Uncle grunted in response, stood up, and left. Once he was out the door, Grandpa asked me, "Why do you look so unhappy? Third Brother just has that kind of temperament; he speaks very directly."
I replied, "Please don't cover for him. Ever since that incident with my classmate here, Second Uncle has looked at me with disapproval. He must think I've caused trouble for your family. What do you mean by 'that kind of temperament'? If he has that temperament, how can he maintain his status in Hong Kong, Macau, and Taiwan's upper society?"
"What do you mean by 'your family' and 'my family'? We're all one family, you little rascal." Grandpa maintained his smile and deliberately avoided the topic, saying, "The second one told me he wants to take you to find a few High Monks to bless the White Olive Amulet. I heard you also want to visit Myanmar?"
I knew that the conflict with Second Uncle was subtle and best not discussed openly. As the head of the family, Grandpa couldn't show favoritism. To avoid putting him in a difficult position, I went along with the conversation: "Yes, the power of the White Olive Amulet has diminished a lot; it's almost useless."
Grandpa waved his hand and said it was settled; he would personally take me today and later have Gai send me to Myanmar for a good time to relax.
Naturally, I agreed. Grandpa took me around several large temples and invited various High Monks to bless the White Olive Amulet. Although each temple didn't seem impressive on its own, if all the High Monks who had blessed the White Olive Amulet were gathered together, it could probably hold a large-scale Ritual.
After spending a few days in Bangkok chatting and sightseeing with Grandpa, I noticed that since he stopped managing affairs, he spent his days tending to flowers and plants. He said that when he was in the military, he thought those who enjoyed gardening were sick in the head. Why waste time on useless things instead of studying military theory or practicing marksmanship? They even called it cultivating one's character; it was clearly just moral decay!
I laughed and said, "You really picked the wrong side; with such high ideological awareness, you should join my party!"
In Grandpa's eyes, political divisions were based on overall principles; in reality, when it came to individuals, they were all quite similar. No party is entirely good or entirely bad. It's just that people nowadays tend to generalize and misinterpret things.
A few days later, Gai drove me to Myanmar. Upon reaching the border, Second Uncle had already sent someone to pick me up. He was an authentic Myanmar local about my age whose job was to be my Guide within Myanmar. If I didn't want to go find Second Uncle right away and preferred to explore first, he would cover some expenses.
This young man named Zha Peng spoke Chinese very fluently. He mentioned that for many years now, Chinese jade merchants had integrated well into this area. So most Myanmar people could speak some Chinese. He asked me where I wanted to go next.
I asked where Second Uncle was, and Zha Peng said he was busy talking to someone, so he sent him to entertain me. I thought for a moment and said, since that's the case, why don't you just take me around to have a look?
This was my first time in Myanmar, and I had no sense of direction. Zha Peng drove an old jeep along the bumpy road for quite a while before finally stopping in a remote mountain area. There was an open space with a large tent set up, surrounded by various vehicles. Zha Peng introduced it to me as a private Gambling Stone Site, which required special connections to enter.
I had heard about Myanmar's gambling stones long ago but had never seen them. I heard that one could spend thousands or even tens of thousands of dollars to buy raw jade materials worth millions!
Zha Peng smiled and said that while such things do happen, it's basically impossible at this private Gambling Stone Site. The Myanmar government is currently very strict about jade management; not only is smuggling of raw materials prohibited, but they have also specifically regulated the gambling stone market. Only during certain fixed months each year are formal gambling stone conferences held. Wealthy and influential people can only participate if they hold certificates issued by the Myanmar government. This regulated market is also known as the Jadeite Public Auction.
Private Gambling Stone Sites like this one generally deal with freshly mined scraps that have little value. The slightly better ones are sent off to prepare for public auctions. Therefore, prices are relatively cheap, but it’s also hard to find anything decent here. Even so, private gambling stones still attract many people because not everyone can attend public auctions; those seeking thrills have to come here.
Zha Peng mentioned that recently a public auction opened a room specifically for a giant stone weighing over a ton, dubbed the Gambling King, which was estimated to be worth thirty million Renminbi. This stone was bought by ten people for over one hundred million, but they haven't dared to cut it yet because it's too big; if they don't get good results, they would incur huge losses.
I was astonished that someone would spend over one hundred million on a stone; it really showed how some people have money to burn.
When we entered the tent, Zha Peng took out a notebook, and the guard glanced at it before waving us in. I asked what it was, and he smiled, saying it was a form of identification. When I pressed further, he refused to say more.
Inside the tent, it was crowded with people and stones were scattered everywhere. At first, I was cautious, afraid of stepping on something valuable, but later Zha Peng told me not to worry. Most of these stones had little material value; no one would care if I stepped on them.
Most stones were priced around several hundred to a thousand yuan, with very few exceeding ten thousand. Many people stared at the stones for a long time before leaving with a few in hand, full of hope for cutting them open, but often ended up disappointed. Those lucky enough might break even; those unfortunate would lose whatever they spent. I found it hard to understand why so many people were crazy about this when the risks outweighed the rewards.
Zha Peng said this is the allure of gambling stones: one cut could lead to either ecstasy or despair. Billionaires and paupers often hinge their fates on that single cut, which is why it's called gambling. He also mentioned that Second Uncle came to Myanmar to help someone with troubles related to these seemingly worthless stones.
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