It had been a long time since they’d visited the scrapyard. With the chill of winter making the staff somewhat sluggish, they were allowed in without many questions.
The scrapyard was filled primarily with recyclable waste like discarded papers, books, wooden materials, copper and iron utensils, occasionally interspersed with some porcelain. These items were sorted into different categories and piled up. Some were piled outdoors, covered with thick layers of snow, resembling a snow-covered mountain.
Feng Qingxue had assumed, as in the past, that there wouldn’t be anything of great value inside the scrapyard. But to her surprise, buried within a pile of scrap paper, she found a painting once considered to be worth billions before she crossed over to this era. Unfortunately, its preservation was lacking due to the snow, it was slightly damp and parts of it had sustained minor damage. But fortunately, the damages only rested on the white spaces and not on the inked areas.
With great care, she sifted through the scrap paper covering the painting and held it in her hands.
The bamboo roller that once held the painting had been removed, leaving behind just the painting.
Uncle Li was in the process of sorting the newly arrived scrap. He was familiar with Feng Qingxue since she frequently visited the scrapyard. Noticing her interest in the painting, he said, "If you want it, you can take it. I’ll weigh it with the scraps and save you from others not letting you take it. According to the scrapyard rules, these things are considered junk and meant to be reprocessed into pulp."
Feng Qingxue was overjoyed. "Thank you, Uncle Li. I’ll be troubling you later!"
Uncle Li was the sole breadwinner of his family and life was tough. Despite the hardships, he never blamed the world for his misfortune. The only time he sought Qingxue’s help was when he couldn’t afford to buy expensive grains at the black market and wanted to buy from her so that he could make noodles for his ailing mother.
That was last autumn. Feng Qingxue had gone into town to mill flour and had stopped by the scrapyard. She directly gave him a few kilos of flour.
Uncle Li was immensely grateful and started extending a helping hand toward Feng Qingxue frequently after that.
Having grown up around these things, Lu Jiang had a keen eye for value. Seeing a chunk of copper among the scraps, he asked, "Uncle Li, where do all these things come from?"
Uncle Li laughed, "In the past couple of years, there haven’t been many instances of confiscation of private properties. Most of these items come from various counties. Some families, who once were wealthy and are struggling now, sell their old belongings. Owing to the country’s stern prohibition on private trading, the traditional secondhand market has been banned. The black market operates similar to the secondhand market, but the scrapyard follows the country’s standard pricing, which is much cheaper."
Feng Qingxue was not surprised to hear this.
Although many landlords and capitalists had fallen on hard times shortly after the founding of the nation, the majority had run into trouble during the cultural crisis. The scrapyards were particularly busy during this period!
She remembered the news she had once seen; many wealthy individuals had made their initial fortunes from antiques, and then branched out to amass wealth.
This proved that there was never a dearth of people with an eye for value in the world.
"I see. Uncle Li, then I’ll pick a few more things. You help me cover up later, okay?"
Without any hesitation, Uncle Li said, "Pick whatever you want, I’ll weigh it and bill you."
The painting was tucked inside a textbook that could be taken out. The more valuable wood got bundled together. A copper lump, Bronze Dagger, along with a copper brazier were placed together. She also bought several clay jars and coloured porcelain bowls, in total spending eighteen yuan, nine jiao, and seven fen.