Ginseng

The shopkeeper's heart went thump, and he nearly burst out laughing on the spot.

Fifty taels? Never mind fifty; even at forty, he would have made a tidy profit! That lousy stone had taken up space in his shop for a year. He had long wanted to get rid of it cheap, and now a fool had dropped out of the sky and offered fifty taels the moment he opened his mouth.

Yet he showed none of it on his face. Instead, he put on a look of utter distress, rubbing his hands and sighing:

"Oh, young master, you're driving too hard a bargain! Just bringing this stone up from the south cost more than that in transport..."

As he grumbled, his eyes stole glances at Shen Jingchuan's face. Seeing that Shen Jingchuan was expressionless, the shopkeeper hurriedly gritted his teeth and stamped his foot, looking for all the world as though he were taking a colossal loss.

"Fine, fine! It's my first sale of the day, so I'll consider it making a friend! Fifty taels it is! But please, don't tell anyone else the price, or I won't be able to do business!"

As if afraid Shen Jingchuan might change his mind, he turned to fetch rope and hemp cloth, calling out as he went:

"Just a moment, young master. I'll tie it up for you and find a couple of assistants to help carry it back." His steps had grown noticeably lighter—the hot potato he had been stuck with for a year was not only off his hands, but had also earned him a clear profit of twenty taels. What a windfall.

Shen Jingchuan stood where he was, watching the shopkeeper bustle about, and felt his mind settle too.

He knew nothing about jade and couldn't be sure whether it was worth the price, but his instincts told him that a rough jadeite stone this big, green all the way through, would definitely turn a profit back in the modern world. Besides, it had only cost him an old mirror.

Shen Jingchuan wasted no words. He counted out fifty taels in silver notes from his robe and handed them over.

The shopkeeper took the notes in both hands, held them up to the light to check them, and hastily tucked them into his robe. Then he turned and called over two assistants to help carry the stone back.

Shen Jingchuan said there was no need and put it straight into his backpack. Once outside, he looked around and saw that no one was paying attention. With a thought, he put the rough stone into his storage space.

This trip was just to test the waters. He knew full well that he didn't understand jadeite in the slightest and was taking a gamble based entirely on what caught his eye.

It had only cost him a broken mirror, so he couldn't lose out either way; it was no big deal. If it really was good material, though, the return would be ten thousand times the investment.

The first thing he had to do when he got back was cram some knowledge about jade and gemstones. Otherwise, the next time he went shopping, he would still be blind with his eyes open.

He continued wandering aimlessly along the street, still turning over ideas for things he could take back and sell at a high markup, when inspiration suddenly struck—medicinal herbs.

The waters around jade ran too deep, but he couldn't go wrong with medicinal herbs.

He didn't know about the others, but he did know about old wild mountain ginseng.

He looked up and saw a black-lacquered signboard reading "Spring Restoration Hall" hanging by the street. The scent of medicinal herbs drifted a long way on the wind, and he stepped inside.

The shop's medicine drawers were arranged in neat rows. Behind the counter stood an old shopkeeper with a goatee, head lowered as he wrapped up medicine. When he saw Shen Jingchuan enter, he hurriedly straightened and cupped his hands.

"Please, come in, young master. Are you here to have a prescription filled or to see a physician?"

"Not for a prescription."

Shen Jingchuan glanced at the medicine cabinets and got straight to the point. "Let me ask you, do you have any wild ginseng here?"

The old shopkeeper was amused to hear that. Stroking his beard, he smiled and said:

"You must be joking, young master. What ginseng isn't wild? Surely you can't grow it at home? All the ginseng in our shop was dug up in the northern mountains, genuine wild mountain ginseng."

Shen Jingchuan smiled too. The words had slipped out from habit. This was another world, so where would cultivated ginseng come from? He waved a hand.

"A slip of the tongue. Let me ask you this: how old is the oldest ginseng you have?"

The old shopkeeper looked him up and down. Seeing that he was well dressed and carried himself with composure, unlike someone who had come to make jokes, he grew serious.

"To be honest with you, young master, the finest treasure we have tucked away is a thousand-year-old ginseng root.

"Years ago, ginseng diggers risked their lives to bring a few roots out from deep in the northern mountains. Their rhizomes and rootlets were all intact, and they were in excellent condition.

"The Aristocratic Clan disciples who practice martial arts in the city, and the martial artists of the jianghu, all scramble to buy them to keep themselves alive and replenish their internal strength. They're in such high demand that there's only one root left now."

"Thousand-year-old ginseng?"

Shen Jingchuan raised an eyebrow, somewhat doubtful. "Is it really a thousand years old? Don't try to fool me, shopkeeper."

"Oh, young master, Spring Restoration Hall has been open in the prefectural city for thirty years. Why would I smash my own signboard?" The old shopkeeper looked entirely serious. "It's in the storeroom out back, but it doesn't come cheap. I'm afraid you might not be able to afford it."

"Name a price."

The old shopkeeper raised one finger and said unhurriedly:

"Ten thousand taels of silver. Not a copper less."

Shen Jingchuan's heart skipped a beat.

Ten thousand taels? Never mind what it would be worth in the modern world; he only had a little over a hundred and fifty taels left on him altogether, not even enough to cover the small change. His face betrayed nothing, and he merely nodded slightly.

"That is expensive. What about one around a hundred years old? How much would that cost?"

"Hundred-year-old roots are much more common."

The old shopkeeper turned and took two ginseng roots from a brocade box behind him, setting them gently on the counter. "Look, young master. This one is a hundred and twenty years old. It has a long rhizome, dense rootlets, and a well-proportioned shape. If you want it, you can take it for a hundred taels of silver."

He pointed to the thicker root beside it, which had deeper markings.

"This one is a hundred and sixty years old, with old skin and old markings, and pearl-like nodules on its rootlets. Genuine old mountain ginseng. I won't ask much for this one either: two hundred taels of silver."

Shen Jingchuan stared at the hundred-and-sixty-year-old ginseng and quickly did the sums in his head.

At the exchange rate between gold and silver, two hundred taels of silver came to twenty taels of gold, just one kilogram, worth roughly seven or eight hundred thousand yuan.

But how much would a hundred-and-sixty-year-old, entirely wild mountain ginseng root sell for in the modern world? He had never dealt in it, but even he knew it would fetch an astronomical price—several million at least, surely? As for the price difference compared with jade, he didn't know which was greater.

But it had to be better than exchanging the silver for gold and taking that back, right?

Unfortunately, he only had a little over a hundred and fifty taels left. He really couldn't come up with two hundred.

He pondered for a moment, then reached out and tapped the hundred-and-sixty-year-old root. Looking up at the old shopkeeper, he spoke evenly:

"This one, a hundred taels. If you'll sell it, I'll take it now. If not, I'll turn around and ask elsewhere. Yours isn't the only medicine shop in the prefectural city."

"Oh, young master!"

The old shopkeeper's eyes went round, and he looked as though the offer pained him.

"Who bargains like that? A hundred-and-sixty-year-old mountain ginseng root, and you cut the price in half! I wouldn't even make back what I paid for it!"

He protested loudly, but in his heart he was already working out the figures. The ginseng had only cost him eighty taels. He had asked a sky-high price to begin with, and if he could sell it for a hundred, he would make a clear profit of nearly twenty taels—not a bad deal. But what merchant wouldn't try to push the price up? Naturally, he had to haggle a little longer and squeeze out every extra copper he could.

Shen Jingchuan wasn't falling for it. Without another word, he turned to leave, mainly because he didn't have much silver.

"Wait, wait, wait! Young master, please stay!"

The old shopkeeper hurriedly reached out to stop him, his face scrunched up as though he were taking a colossal loss. "Fine, fine! I'll count it as my first sale of the day and make a friend of you! A hundred taels it is!"

Still grumbling, he carefully wrapped the ginseng in red silk, placed it in an exquisite wooden box, and handed it over with both hands.

Shen Jingchuan counted out a hundred taels in silver notes and handed them over. He took the wrapped ginseng, which felt heavy in his hand—though it seemed the box was the heavy part.

He weighed it in his hand and felt much more reassured. On this trip, the rough stone was a test of the waters, while the ginseng should be a sure profit. He turned and left the medicine shop.