Prologue

　　The origin of this matter was on February 1, 2003, when an old man with gold teeth came to my shop near closing time to ask about my grandfather.

　　At the time, I was cautious and didn’t pay him much attention, but the whole thing seemed strange. Our family had kept my grandfather’s affairs under wraps for almost six or seven years, and no one had mentioned it again. Why would this gold-toothed man suddenly bring it up?

　　Judging by his manner and the way he spoke, he was no ordinary character.

　　Later, Boss Qian from next door told me he knew the gold-toothed old man who came to my shop. That guy had a notorious reputation, named Henry Carter, and was an old regular at the New Moon Hotel in Beijing.

　　The New Moon Hotel is an upgraded version of Panjiayuan. All the black market dealers with real capital set up shop there. They don’t have to eat and sleep rough, nor do they have to clash head-on with the authorities. I’m not experienced enough to get in, but I’ve heard a bit about it. It’s said that anything put on display there is a business worth its weight in gold.

　　So why did this well-established old guy come all the way to Jiangnan to cozy up to a small shop like mine? What was his real intention? I told myself I should look into it if I got the chance, but that thought quickly slipped my mind. In our line of work, there are too many odd people and strange happenings. Even running an antique shop isn’t peaceful. I didn’t care much about this trivial matter.

　　That day, I was feeling a bit sentimental. To be honest, my situation was pretty bleak. The restaurant next door, Lou Wai Lou, had opened a new hall and even set up a pastry workshop. Even the floor manager drove to work, while I had to scrimp and save every month just to pay my staff. Being the boss felt utterly humiliating. Back then, it seemed like running an antique shop was far less glamorous than running a restaurant. What kind of world is this? I thought maybe I should convince my dad to sell the shop and open a restaurant instead. Of course, I was just saying that casually. I never expected so many things would happen afterward. If I had known, I would have burned down my family’s shop to prevent all future trouble.

　　But the truth is, we can never know what the future holds, so in the end, I inevitably got involved. And the deeper I went, the further I sank.

　　Even so, I never thought I would have to use this method to sort out the whole affair.

　　These articles were written throughout the entire process. Although the ending is still unclear, looking back now, these bits and pieces of memory have their own flavor. I’m organizing some of them now for future reference. In the end, I will get the answer—I firmly believe and persist in this.

　　Volume One: Old Changsha

　　Family Introduction: The Nine Gates

　　The origins of my grandfather’s affairs, and even those of my generation, probably began in old Changsha. From Biaozi Ridge to Edward Benson, the seeds sown back then seem to have finally grown in my generation. To get a focused understanding of the customs and people of Changsha in those days, I’ve sorted out some details from my grandfather’s notes about the “Nine Gates” and combined them with the many anecdotes he told me. Looking back now, it’s quite fascinating.

　　The Nine Gates of old Changsha were known by everyone in the “outer eight trades.” These grave-robbing families were powerful, covering every aspect of cultural relics smuggling. Almost every valuable artifact that left Changsha had to pass through one of these families. There are several explanations for why they were called the Nine Gates, but the most accepted is that ancient cities had nine gates, and merchants coming and going had to choose one to enter or leave. The Nine Gates took their name from this. If you wanted to do business in Changsha, you had to choose one of these nine powerful groups—there was no other way.

　　I don’t know much about the deeds of these remarkable people. For one thing, my grandfather didn’t want me to know too much about their past. What these people did was legendary within the trade, but would be considered notorious outside of it.

　　There’s almost no comparison between the old Nine Gates and the new ones. Most of the new Nine Gates are self-proclaimed, while the old Nine Gates truly earned their reputation bit by bit.

　　In those days, when information was so limited, to become known by word of mouth, you had to have extremely extraordinary experiences. You can imagine just how remarkable these people were to be ranked like this among the common folk.

　　The Nine Gates were divided into three parts. The top three were well-established old families, and their official identities had largely been “whitewashed.” They had legitimate businesses on the surface and wielded great power in official circles. Their grave-robbing operations mainly relied on their own men. The top three had some extremely skilled and loyal men, but as these men gradually aged, the top three families also began to decline.