Chapter Thirty-Five: Wang Cheng—A Little Knowledge

Shen Yuting led the way out of the rear courtyard and called over Dou Yan, the apprentice who was still welcoming guests at the front.
“You’ve been training as a pawnbroker for a year now—enough to handle even a major establishment. Go find your master and tell him I said you’re ready. At the beginning of the year, arrangements will be made for you to officially take your place in the ranks.”
Dou Yan was overjoyed at these words, expressing his gratitude repeatedly.
“Thank you, Master Shen! Thank you so much!”
He understood perfectly well that Shen Yuting was making room for his new disciple and harbored no resentment. In these times, a half-year’s reduction of apprenticeship in any official post was enough to make men risk their lives—only a fool would linger out of stubbornness.
He immediately handed over his ledgers and the storeroom keys to Wang Cheng, then departed Fenglin House in high spirits.
Shen Yuting turned and patted Wang Cheng’s shoulder.
“Fourth, from today onward, you’ll take Dou Yan’s place as the pawnbroker in this shop.
A ‘Whitewater Man’ needs to be adept at swimming, boating, and fishing. You grew up in Yuegang and have trained both inside and out. That should pose no problem for you.
But to excel as a ‘Pawnbroker’ requires even greater effort. The most critical skill is a discerning eye—knowledge of metals and stones, the art of appraisal. Whether it’s antiques, paintings, jewelry, silks, or furs, you must master them all.
And running a pawnshop in Yuegang means you’ll often deal with all manner of things from the sea. Three Thousand Abyssal Treasures, a hundred thousand marine rarities, enchanted objects, and items haunted by curses—all of these may pass through shops under our Shanhai Society.
A single misjudgment can bring ruin overnight—or worse, cost you your life.
Fugui, you’re a scholar and more learned than an ordinary apprentice. Tell me honestly, how much do you know of these arts? How sharp is your eye?”
Wang Cheng glanced at the central hole of the “Universal Treasure Coin,” feeling it wise to be modest, and answered truthfully:
“I know a little, just a little. Antiques, paintings, jewelry, silks, furs... I know just a tiny bit about each.”
He then lifted the storeroom keys in his hand, his eagerness barely concealed.
“Master, shall I try my hand at it?”
Shen Yuting was equally curious about his disciple’s abilities. For a master, there is immense satisfaction in shaping raw jade into exquisite art.
“Very well.”
With Dou Yan gone, the other stewards and staff of Fenglin House remained. They all came forward, bowed respectfully to the master’s fourth disciple, and addressed him as “Young Master Fourth.”
Their attitude toward Wang Cheng was entirely different from the perfunctory respect they’d shown Dou Yan, who had merely paid for his lessons.
Zheng Qian stood beside the others, dutifully introducing the pawnshop and its stewards to his junior brother.
“Fenglin House has always been the training ground for new talent under Shanhai Society, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t legitimate. We have official licenses and can do business nationwide.
There are three main divisions and four chief clerks here. All of them will be your helpers from now on...”
In the pawnshop, the three divisions refer to the Money Room, the Ornaments Room, and the Fabric Room.
The Money Room oversees finances—it’s essentially the accounting office. The Ornaments and Fabric Rooms manage different types of pawned goods, such as jewelry and textiles, which are the main items traded.
Anything particularly valuable, like Abyssal Treasures, is kept by the Money Room. Each division has its own steward, and all hold considerable status.
The “four clerks” are responsible for dealing with customers—they inspect goods, assess value, and handle redemptions. Their rank is determined by their shareholdings, status, and experience: Head Clerk, Second Clerk, Third Clerk, and Fourth Clerk.
In civilian pawnshops, these clerks are all addressed as “Pawnbroker”—the origin of the title “Pawnbroker” in the Water Division’s hierarchy.
Aside from these stewards, there were also hired hands: ticket writers, ticket clearers, and errand boys...

They were barely literate but could help with tasks like packaging, storing, and handling redemption slips. As they were introduced, each came forward to offer a respectful greeting.
The head clerk overseeing all operations was Zhao Jinbao, a man of seasoned age and vast experience. If not for the rule barring anyone over thirty-five from kindling the Heart Lamp and advancing to official rank, he would have been a leading Pawnbroker in his own right.
He greeted Wang Cheng with warmth.
“Manager Dou once served as Fourth Clerk here. Young Master Fourth, would you like to take over his position? I’ll personally guide you and help you master the trade as soon as possible.”
Wang Cheng had come to learn, not to vie for power. He cared nothing for seniority and nodded in agreement.
“I’ll rely on your guidance, Head Clerk Zhao. I’m new and know nothing yet—the reputation of Fenglin House still rests on your shoulders. I’ll need you to correct my mistakes, so my master doesn’t actually lose money, right?”
At that quip, Shen Yuting shook his head, laughing.
“You rascal. If you could bankrupt me, that would be impressive indeed.”
Zhao Jinbao studied the new disciple and nodded to himself.
“Those who come to apprentice as pawnbrokers are never poor—few can even step through the door without a few taels of gold. Most are proud and arrogant; humility is rare. Yet after rising so swiftly to become a direct disciple of the Hall of Duty, to remain so composed is remarkable. This one will accomplish much.”
This was a classic case of differing perspectives. Wang Cheng had no idea how wealthy his master truly was! And his master had no clue how prestigious Wang Cheng had been.
Zhao Jinbao glanced at his old master, and seeing no objection, continued.
“Let’s begin with the taboos of our trade.
In common pawnshops, there are four things we never accept: ceremonial robes and opera costumes; banners, gongs, parasols, and fans; furs without wrapping; and low-tide jewelry.
The last two are simply to avoid loss. The first two, however, often involve funeral goods—burial clothes, shrouds, and grave artifacts. We are not a spirit shop, and dealing with such things is dangerous—one misstep could cost your life.
With your master’s skills, nothing is truly forbidden, but if you’re unsure, just refuse such items. The knowledge related to these is optional.
Let’s not waste words. Here is a set of porcelain just delivered yesterday, said to have quite a history. Please, Young Master Fourth, appraise them for us.”
He brought out a set of seven or eight porcelain pieces and placed them carefully on the table before stepping aside.
There was no need to remind him—the rules of trade dictated: don’t touch jade, never take your eyes off gold, and never point at fish.
Wang Cheng stepped forward, examining each piece with practiced composure. A glimmer of gold flashed in his eyes as he spoke his verdict with confidence.
“These are blue-and-white porcelains from the former Yunmeng Empire, likely from the same kiln batch. Each piece has survived for more than two hundred and twenty years.”
Shen Yuting’s eyes lit up with interest.
“What makes you say so?”
Wang Cheng, unflustered, pointed out details on several pieces as he spoke.
“Master, look—the base of these blue-and-white pieces is unglazed, but shows clear spiral marks, and some have traces of tool strikes and sand adhesive.
The bowls and small items have tiny bumps at the center of the foot, marks left by special supports during firing.
The fish-and-algae motifs and entwined peonies are also classic designs from that period. Taken together, I’m ninety-five percent certain.”
Shen Yuting, gazing at his spirited disciple—so reminiscent of himself—nodded in approval.
“Fourth, your eye is already good enough for the role of Pawnbroker.”
“Did you also study the knowledge of metals and stones so diligently at Lianjiang Academy?”
“With such expertise, ‘a little’ hardly does you justice.”
Wang Cheng set down the porcelain and replied modestly.
“Master, I believe that to rely on others is to invite disappointment—one must depend on oneself. So I’ve always loved reading. I’ve read works like ‘Passing Clouds Record,’ ‘Illustrated Treasures Mirror,’ and ‘Essential Appraisals.’ My skill comes from hard study—and, I admit, a touch of luck.”
He dared not delve into the spiritual arts, but secular knowledge was fair game.
In terms of learning, he was second to none among his peers—he’d seen more treasures than many scions of the Han family. His foundation was solid.
With the answers provided by “Trading Oddities,” it was child’s play to find supporting arguments in his mind.
And with the prestigious Lianjiang Academy as his background, no one could easily expose his small white lies.
“Fourth, you truly are destined for the path of the Pawnbroker,” Shen Yuting said, nodding and encouraging him to continue.
“Is there anything else?
If all you see is that these are Yunmeng blue-and-white, I’d only call you competent. You must keep honing your skills.”
Buoyed by encouragement and recognizing this was not the time to feign ignorance, Wang Cheng pointed to the dark stains on the porcelain.
“These marks look like soil stains from long burial, suggesting they lay hidden underground for years.
Most would assume they’re grave goods dug from tombs.
But I know there’s another possibility. I judge these to be shipwreck porcelain salvaged from the sea!”
Even after cleaning, their origin could not be concealed.
Porcelain that had slumbered for two or three centuries in the ocean, lost with a sunken ship, would show signs of saltwater corrosion—the glaze worn as if peeled away, with tiny bubble-like pits if one looked closely.
Some of the feet would show a patina formed by years of seawater immersion—a kind of natural polish that bonded glaze and body in a matte, even finish.
These were all hallmarks of shipwreck porcelain.
Any expert could tell that while these weren’t artifacts from the Shang or Zhou, they certainly weren’t modern either!
Most crucially, Wang Cheng could see hidden information invisible to mundane connoisseurs:
“The porcelain surfaces bear fresh, fine scratches left by the movement of ‘Monkey-Brain Sea Urchins,’ one of the hundred thousand marine rarities. If the location of the wreck is found, an entire colony of these sea urchins might be discovered there...”
Now, Wang Cheng had a renowned master, the means to establish his own line, and a craftsman’s seal for enchanted objects. All that remained was to attain Pure Yang Life Fire before the Otter’s Sacrifice to Fish in the Seventy-Two Solar Terms.
The ‘Monkey-Brain Sea Urchin’ was at least a mid-tier marine rarity; its flesh was said to resemble a monkey’s brain, and even a single urchin was a feast—let alone a whole colony.
The thought made Wang Cheng’s heart race. This opportunity alone might allow him to complete his final preparations.
He was about to ask his master where this batch of shipwreck porcelain had been salvaged when, suddenly, a gentle, hesitant female voice sounded from outside Fenglin House:
“Master Shen, what did you think of the shipwreck porcelain Miss Shushu asked you to appraise yesterday?
Can you pinpoint the exact location?”