Chapter 222: Sold
Just as Li Daoxuan was savoring the delicate noodles offered by the little people…
Shanghai, Miniature Art Exhibition.
A large crowd buzzed around a single display case.
At its center sat a tiny Taoist temple, no larger than a fist, exquisitely detailed.
An elderly, wealthy collector of miniature art happened by. Seeing the commotion, he squeezed his way to the front. "Everyone, what's so fascinating here?"
Many in the crowd recognized him. "Master Li! You're here too! We're looking at a fascinating piece. You must take a look."
Master Li chuckled. "If this many people are gathered, it must be extraordinary. I must see for myself."
His first glance took in the small temple, its plaque reading "Cave of the Daoist Mystic Tianzun." He mused silently, Which deity is the 'Daoist Mystic Tianzun'? Never heard of him.
The others laughed. "We haven't either. Probably a made-up name. That's not the point. Look at the craftsmanship."
Master Li looked closer. What he saw took his breath away.
The technique was… unusual.
"Most miniature stone carvings are sculpted from a single block," Master Li observed, his voice hushed. "But the lower part of this temple… it's assembled from minuscule, individually carved stone blocks. It even has a foundation made of stones and tiny wooden piles. My heavens… this technique…"
"Exactly!" someone else chimed in. "The wooden upper structure isn't carved from a larger piece either. It's painstakingly assembled from countless tiny wooden sticks and slivers. The complexity is staggering. It's dizzying to look at."
Master Li pulled out a magnifying glass. "Look through the window… you can see a statue inside. The workmanship on the statue is also incredible. So fine… you can even see the individual strands of hair."
"The tables,chairs, benches inside… all meticulously carved. The tiny patterns are breathtaking."
"Look,here's a funny detail," Master Li laughed, pointing. "On the table inside the temple, there's a miniature book. The cover says… Hanyu Pinyin (Chinese Phonetic Alphabet). Ha! That's hilarious."
No one had noticed it before. Someone couldn't resist asking, "The pages… can they be turned? Are there characters inside?"
No one dared touch the exhibit, of course. But peering through the magnifying glass, they could see the book did indeed have separate, wafer-thin pages layered together.
"Incredible!" Master Li sighed in admiration. "This piece is outstanding. Not only is the craftsmanship first-rate, but it's bold, playful, with the kind of mischievous spirit you find in young artists. Who is the creator?"
He circled the display until he found the artist's bio: "Li Daoxuan. Male. Chongqing City. 22 years old. Profession: Freelance Designer."
Below was a contact number—not Li Daoxuan's, but his agent Cai Xinzi's.
Master Li immediately dialed. "Hello? Is this Mr. Cai, agent for the new-generation miniature master Li Daoxuan? I'd like to inquire… is his 'Cave of the Daoist Mystic Tianzun' for sale?"
Cai Xinzi's voice was calm. "We're just exhibiting. It's not for sale."
"Not for sale?"Master Li's voice rose in alarm. "One million! I offer one million RMB!"
On the other end of the line, Cai Xinzi's jaw nearly hit the floor. "You… you… please hold… I need a moment to process this…"
…
Li Daoxuan was busy processing a different kind of delicacy: Hulu Ji (Gourd Chicken), a famous Shaanxi dish he'd finally managed to order for delivery. He held a drumstick, dipped it in chili powder, and happily gnawed away.
Things in the crate were lively these days!
The long-dormant "Gao Village Commercial District" was finally springing to life.
And the catalyst was undoubtedly the three thousand newcomers from Qingjian.
Arriving with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the hoes they'd used as weapons during the rebellion, they were utterly destitute. Li Daoxuan had provided plastic houses, but they stood empty. They needed to furnish their lives from scratch.
Those Qingjian people on "daily wage" jobs, after receiving their pay at the end of the day, immediately rushed to convert their coins into daily necessities.
They traded for wooden basins and buckets from carpenters, bamboo baskets and crates from the elderly, bolts of cotton cloth from the village's public granary, kitchen knives from the workshops…
This sudden surge in trade was a clarion call to the sharp-witted. If they need these things, why wait for them to come to us?
The old village elder of Gao Village was the first to react. He hauled a large batch of his hand-woven bamboo baskets and trays to the "marketplace" in the commercial district, claimed a small stall, and laid out his wares.
His move started a trend. Other elderly folk from the short-term workers' village joined in, followed by elders from the Qingjian refugees. A market was born.
Other artisans quickly caught on. They flocked to the marketplace, staking out spots and setting up stalls.
Thus, the Gao Village commercial district was officially, vibrantly alive. After a day's work, the little people would stroll through the market at dusk, browsing the stalls, looking for what they needed.
Initially, they bartered goods for goods. But they soon found bartering cumbersome. Currency—copper coins and bits of silver—began to circulate…
The more entrepreneurial minds started considering leasing larger storefronts for bigger ventures.
The doctor from the short-term workers' village, the one who had treated Zhang Laowu, quickly rented the district's medical clinic. The "Gao Village Medical Hall" opened for business.
A villager opened a "Hand-Torn Noodles" noodle shop.
Master Blacksmith Gao Yiyi, using the official status of the "Workshop," opened a "Village-Operated Smithy" in the district, selling kitchen knives, sickles, hoes, and more.
The concept of "village-operated" stores quickly gained traction. Papermakers opened a shop selling paper. Lantern makers set up a lantern store…
Under Li Daoxuan's guidance, the revenue from these village-operated stores flowed into the communal village treasury, but the artisans received a percentage based on sales, boosting their incomes once again.
The women also wanted in on the action but were hesitant to appear in public. They pooled their resources, bought cotton from the village treasury, wove it into cloth, and collectively entrusted their products to the Saintess. In Gao Yiye's name, they opened the "Saintess Cotton Cloth Shop."
Tiny Gao Village was bustling, prosperous, and full of life.
Li Daoxuan was watching this delightful economic bloom with immense satisfaction when his phone rang.
He hit answer, and Cai Xinzi's voice, bordering on hysterical, exploded from the speaker. "YOUR LITTLE TEMPLE! A RICH OLD GUY OFFERED TEN MILLION! MY GOD, DO WE SELL IT? DO WE FREAKING SELL IT? I'M ABOUT TO LOSE MY MIND!"
Li Daoxuan didn't hesitate for a second. "Holy crap. Sold!"
(Fact: The explosive growth of Gao Village's market mirrors the rapid commercialization of rural China during the late Ming, a period often overlooked. As state control weakened, local markets (shi) and periodic fairs (xu) flourished, creating networks of rural entrepreneurship. Gao Village's transformation from a subsistence economy to one with specialized shops, currency, and even "village-operated" enterprises is a microcosm of this dynamic, bottom-up economic revolution that was changing the face of the empire, one noodle shop and smithy at a time.)