Chapter 00214: The Power of Money
# The Power of Money
Chapter 214
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 214: The Power of Money
"Comrades, is there something you need?"
As the three of them entered, a manager came out to greet them.
"We’d like to buy some furniture."
"Oh, welcome! Come take a look inside!"
The manager ushered them in, leading them through the workshop before smiling.
"These are our factory’s latest designs—solid materials, modern styles, fashionable yet practical. Perfect for weddings!"
"No, no. We’d like to see the old furniture."
"Old furniture?"
The manager gave Chen Qi a once-over.
"Young comrade, old furniture isn’t for sale to the public, let alone individuals."
"Not for individuals. We’re from the Film Company under the Ministry of Culture. We’re shooting a period drama and need a lot of old furniture for set dressing. Here’s our documentation, take a look."
He actually pulled out an ID card.
His excuse was exactly as he said—they were shooting Tai Chi 2 and needed props.
"Ah, Tai Chi! Then you—you must be…"
"I’m the producer. Also the screenwriter!"
"Well, well! Say no more! If you’d introduced yourself earlier, I’d have taken you straight there. We fully support the film industry!"
The manager’s enthusiasm shot up several notches.
He led them to a warehouse, rattling open the heavy lock.
As the door swung open, a musty scent of bygone eras wafted out.
Inside, the place was packed to the brim—Yan Song beds, beauty couches, rosewood chairs, round-backed armchairs, Wanli cabinets… nearly all of them antique furniture from the Ming, Qing, and Republic eras.
"Go ahead and pick what you want!"
"How much are we talking?"
"Let’s see what you pick first…"
The manager chuckled.
Chen Qi stepped inside, his eyes immediately landing on a huanghuali wood arhat bed.
"That used to be in the canteen. Workers sat on it during meals. Later, the cushion underneath wore out, so we tossed it in here."
Damn it!
Chen Qi nearly cursed out loud.
What a waste! This was a baibaoqian arhat bed—a treasure inlaid with precious materials.
The bed had armrests on both sides and a backrest embedded with two dragon motifs, playfully chasing a pearl.
The dragons were made of ivory, the pearl was real, and turquoise stones dotted the design like auspicious clouds… All kinds of gems were embedded into the bed, hence the name baibaoqian (hundred-treasure inlay).
"How much for this bed?"
"2,000!"
Back then, people didn’t understand the value of antiques, but some were starting to catch on—especially those in the trade.
The manager quoted 2,000 yuan, making Tian Zhuangzhuang and Zhang Yimou flinch. Holy hell, 2,000 for a bed?!
Chen Qi didn’t react, moving on instead.
Next, he picked out a Qing dynasty folding screen, a massive rosewood throne from the Qianlong era, and a pair of huanghuali Wanli cabinets (essentially Ming dynasty dish racks).
Finally, he reached a more spacious area and suddenly stopped in his tracks before hurrying over.
There stood a massive rosewood painting desk—specifically designed for painting.
It measured 182 cm long, 96 cm wide, and 90 cm tall, nearly flawless.
The entire surface was carved with intricate, luxurious patterns, exuding grandeur.
This must be the same one Li Hanxiang bought!
Chen Qi examined it closely.
It had to be this one—the Kangxi-era rosewood painting desk with carved chilong (hornless dragon) motifs.
Similar pieces existed in the private market, but none this large.
Such dimensions could only mean it had once belonged to the imperial palace.
"How much for this one?"
"3,000!"
"…"
Chen Qi circled the warehouse, swiftly pointing out over fifty items—from massive desks and wardrobes to small storage boxes and vanity cases.
Some cost thousands, others mere tens.
"Add it all up. How much?"
The manager was stunned but quickly grabbed an abacus.
"42,000…"
"Your prices are inflated. Let’s say 20,000 flat."
"20,000 is too low!"
"Then forget it."
"Wait, wait! Let’s negotiate!"
After some haggling, they settled on 28,000 yuan, with the furniture factory handling delivery and an extra 100 for the workers.
This was just one warehouse—there were several more.
But Chen Qi knew better than to be too greedy.
If he took everything, the guanxi (connections) people would come looking, wondering where all the goods went… and that would lead straight back to him.
Take, for example, that female elder who had "eaten the Tang Monk’s flesh."
Rumors said she was descended from Qing nobility, raised in the Summer Palace—utter nonsense.
She was just from an ordinary worker’s family.
But because she knew how to sew, she befriended a high-ranking official’s maid, often delivering clothes to their home.
In her youth, she was considered attractive—thick eyebrows, big eyes, a broad face, full of energy, fitting the era’s beauty standards.
She was also eloquent and bold, so the official introduced her to even higher-ups.
Thus, she became a guanxi insider, hauling out cultural relics by the truckload.
She even secured a Hong Kong identity, dabbled in real estate, amassed wealth, and by the 90s, returned as a "model Hong Kong investor" to the mainland…
Then she started polishing her image, feeding the media a carefully crafted narrative.
Take it with a grain of salt.
Chen Qi bought the furniture under the company’s name for convenience, then planned to resell it to himself at cost, transferring ownership.
He wouldn’t use company funds for personal gain—that crossed a line.
20,000 yuan wasn’t worth getting executed over.
Now, 200 million? That might be worth considering…
He had special privileges, but he wasn’t reckless.
He knew exactly how far to push.
---
Even so, Tian Zhuangzhuang and Zhang Yimou were thoroughly shocked.
Both men were nearing thirty, yet the most money they’d ever handled combined didn’t even reach 200 yuan.
Meanwhile, here was Chen Qi, just 21 years old, dropping 20,000 without blinking.
That feeling only intensified when they visited his courtyard home.
Tian Zhuangzhuang circled the place three times before sighing.
"This really isn’t fit for filming. If all tenement yards were like this, we’d have achieved socialism long ago."
"You bought this yourself?" Zhang Yimou asked.
"Yeah."
"But… you live here alone?"
"Of course not. I’m planning to start a magazine. The front courtyard will be the editorial office and dorm for now. I’ll take the rear courtyard."
"That’s still huge!"
Zhang Yimou was green with envy.
After the tour, Chen Qi treated them to a meal.
The conversation turned to next year’s job assignments after graduation.
Tian Zhuangzhuang, as the scion of Beijing Film Studio’s "first family," was guaranteed a spot there.
Chen Kaige was pretty much set for the Children’s Film Studio.
Zhang Yimou was more uncertain.
He wanted to stay in Beijing but knew it was unlikely.
Chen Qi didn’t say much—graduation was still a year away.
They’d cross that bridge later.
Old Zhang’s life had its ups and downs.
He’d been both vilified and praised online.
After Full River Red tarnished his legacy, rumors said he was tackling The Three-Body Problem next—probably with the Fourth Prince as Luo Ji and Haocun as Cheng Xin, all in one continuous shot. Bold move, huh?
Then spaceships would launch like arrows, set to Qinqiang opera, shouting: "Great wind! Great wind!"
Everyone knew Zhang Yimou’s deal—give him a good script, and he’d deliver.
And Chen Qi? He had scripts to spare.
What he lacked was manpower—every position was understaffed…
As they parted ways, Zhang Yimou kept glancing back.
His thoughts about Chen Qi ran deeper than Chen Qi’s about him.
Like a country bumpkin in the big city, he’d just gotten his first glimpse of how the wealthy lived.
"I heard he runs a company with film production rights. If he could hire me as a cinematographer… ah…"
Zhang Yimou wasn’t dreaming of directing yet—just being a cameraman was enough to send him into blissful fantasies.
Tian Zhuangzhuang, watching this, also fell into thought.
He was an artist at heart, not fond of Chen Qi’s commercial approach.
But he wasn’t about to condemn it either.
If Old Zhang could join the "Eastern Depot" (Chen Qi’s circle), maybe it’d be a way for him to stay in Beijing.
(End of Chapter)