Chapter 2
What was that?
He rubbed his eyes and looked again.
It wasn’t an illusion.
Soft light was clearly leaking from inside the box.
A sticker on the front gate of the mansion read, “Free to Take — Discarded Items”.
Had they thrown it out while moving?
He slowly walked toward the box.
He wanted to know exactly what that glowing object was.
He looked around, but no one else seemed interested. People kept passing by without a second glance.
He stepped closer and peered inside.
What he saw was a porcelain vase with a crack along one side, along with a few miscellaneous items.
And yet the faint radiance that had been lingering over the vase just moments ago was already fading.
What?
Si-woo stared at the scene, washing his face with dry hands.
What on earth was going on?
Unsure whether he had seen a phantom, he cautiously reached out.
His fingertips touched the cold porcelain surface.
Ding.
At that moment, a translucent window rose before his eyes.
Name: Blue-and-White Dragon Motif Vase
Made in the 18th year of King Yeongjo’s reign at the Bunwon official kiln in Gwangju, Gyeonggi Province.
A royal gift bestowed by King Yeongjo upon the civil official Yi Jong-seong when he was appointed Minister of Personnel.
The depiction of the dragon’s claws as four in number proves it to be a royal item.
Estimated value: at least 100 million won
Si-woo stared blankly at the window floating in midair.
He reached out and tried to touch it.
His finger passed straight through the letters.
There was no sensation at all.
He closed his eyes and opened them again.
The window was still there.
Now a glowing vase came with a status window?
This wasn’t some game.
But seeing the item’s value snapped him sharply back to attention.
At least 100 million?
His heart began to pound. If the window before him was real, then...
He swallowed hard.
Wait. Calm down.
He was already being swept away by the number alone.
Was what he was seeing really real? Or was he hallucinating from the stress he had been under at the company?
He pinched his cheek.
It hurt. It wasn’t a dream.
He reached out and carefully lifted the vase.
This was undeniably a real object.
That was when he heard it.
“Tsk, tsk.”
Si-woo spun around in surprise.
An old man who had approached without a sound was looking down into the box, clicking his tongue.
“The owner threw it out.”
“Ah, yes.”
Si-woo felt as though he had been caught stealing.
“They said they were throwing it away because the old junk was cracked.”
The old man shook his head.
“If you leave things out like this, the young folks these days don’t even know they could be reported for illegal dumping. Hmph.”
Si-woo asked cautiously, “Do you... know the people who lived in this house?”
“Of course I do. I’ve lived in this neighborhood for fifty years. How could I not?”
The old man looked up at the mansion as he went on.
“But an elder in the family passed away not long ago. After that, the children said they were emigrating overseas, so they hurried to clear everything out.”
He glanced into the box.
“That vase was originally in the living room. It must have cracked while they were moving.”
So it had once been intact.
Si-woo was curious.
Did they really know it was valuable, or had they thrown it away without knowing?
The old man answered that for him.
“Sigh. Young people don’t know the value of antiques. They probably just saw a cracked piece of junk and tossed it.”
“Do you know the value of this antique?”
Si-woo asked, pretending to know nothing.
“How would I know that? I only heard that the elder had received it as a gift long ago and kept it carefully because it was precious.”
“Then may I take it?”
The old man pointed his chin at the sticker on the gate.
“What does that say? If it says to take it, then take it.”
He clicked his tongue again. “Tsk, tsk. The people who emigrated aren’t ever coming back anyway. If you can use it, go ahead and take it.”
“Thank you.”
“For what? It isn’t mine. Better that than leaving it on the street.”
With that, the old man turned and walked back into the alley.
Si-woo lifted the box carefully, holding it with both hands.
It felt heavier than he’d expected.
* * *
They said when one door closes, another opens.
He didn’t know who had said it.
Still, it didn’t seem to be wrong.
He didn’t know whether it was a status window or something else, but for now he had confirmed the reality of the information he’d seen.
The process of checking it was simple.
He just had to search his smartphone for Yi Jong-seong, the civil official from King Yeongjo’s reign.
Yi Jong-seong (1692-1759) was a civil official in the late Joseon period during King Yeongjo’s reign.
His clan seat was Jeonju, his courtesy name was Jago, and his pen name was Ocheon.
He passed the state examination in 1714, the 40th year of King Sukjong’s reign, and entered government service. He later served as Deputy State Councillor, Minister of Taxation, Minister of Personnel, and eventually Prime Minister.
So it was true?
At the very least, he had confirmed that the person and description listed in the status window were real.
The next important question was whether the vase really was worth more than 100 million won.
The following day, Si-woo wrapped the vase in several layers of towels and put it in his bag.
He had slept badly, but he wasn’t tired.
A search online showed that the best-known places in Seoul for antiques were Insadong and Janganpyeong Antique Market.
Insadong had too many tourists, so they’d probably overcharge him. Janganpyeong, meanwhile, was a place where dealers mainly traded among themselves.
If I want a proper appraisal, Janganpyeong is the place.
He took the subway and got off at Janganpyeong Station.
The moment he came out, he saw rows of antique shops packed tightly between old buildings.
Every signboard bore words like “antiques,” “ancient art,” and “specializing in ceramics.”
Not knowing where to go, he wandered around for quite a while.
The shops with glossy signs somehow didn’t feel trustworthy, but the ones that looked too shabby made him doubt whether they could give a proper appraisal.
After circling the alleys twice.
A small shop tucked deeper in a narrow lane caught his eye with a signboard written in neat calligraphy.
Old ceramics stood densely displayed beyond the glass window.
Unlike the other shops, it had no flashy slogans, only the quiet impression of having stood there in silence for a long time.
This looks like it might be good.
When he opened the door and stepped inside, a faint fragrance brushed the tip of his nose.
It was agarwood. Somewhere, the soft sound of a gayageum was drifting through the air and easing his mind.
“Welcome.”
A calm voice came from the back of the shop.
An old man with neatly combed silver hair was seated there.
He looked to be well over seventy, but his back was straight, and he wore a clean gray hanbok with a black vest over it.
In front of him sat a celadon teacup, and sunlight pouring in through the window illuminated him.
“I came because there’s something I’d like appraised.”
“Is that so? Then sit down first.”
The old man gestured to the seat opposite him.
“Would you like some tea?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Si-woo sat down in a daze.
The old man lifted the teapot and poured tea into the cup.
Every movement was as natural as flowing water.
There wasn’t a trace of haste.
“Young people these days are all in such a rush. Drink some tea first, then we’ll talk.”
Si-woo received the teacup with both hands.
Warmth spread through his fingertips.
His tense shoulders seemed to loosen a little.
When he took a sip, a delicate fragrance spread softly across his mouth.
“This is good tea.”
“It’s yukwuihwancha. There’s nothing better for calming the mind.”
The old man set down his cup and looked at Si-woo.
His gaze was gentle, yet there was an unfathomable sharpness in it.
It was the kind of eyes that seemed to see straight through a person.
“Very well, show me what you’ve brought.”
Carefully, Si-woo took the vase wrapped in towels from his bag and placed it on the table.
As he unfolded the cloth layer by layer, the blue pattern of the blue-and-white porcelain emerged.
The moment the old man’s eyes fell on the vase, he drew in a small breath, as though in admiration.
“Oh... may I touch it?”
“Of course.”
The old man lifted the vase carefully with both hands.
He handled it as though he were holding something alive and precious.
His wrinkled fingers moved slowly along the curves of the vase, and under the sunlight the blue pigment shone with even greater clarity.
After studying the vase for a while, he paused when he examined the inside, then fetched a magnifying glass and began looking over the interior.
“Look here.”
The old man’s finger pointed to the inner side of the foot ring.
Si-woo leaned forward and peered in.
In a place he had missed, tiny, faint characters had been inscribed.
“What does it say?”
“It says, ‘Bunwon Jang Seok-chil made this in reverence.’”
The old man’s expression changed.
Then he set the vase down carefully on the table.
“He was the greatest potter at the Bunwon official kiln in King Yeongjo’s day. An artisan who handled only porcelain made for royal use. There are only a handful of his surviving works. Craftsmen like that would often hide their name discreetly as a way of marking their pieces.”
The old man picked up the vase again and studied the foot more closely.
“And look here. It says, ‘Royal Gift, the 18th Year of Yeongjo.’”
“A royal gift means it was bestowed by the king, right?”
That matched the status window exactly.
“Indeed.”
The old man held the vase up to the light and examined the dragon pattern.
“Count the dragon’s claws. How many are there?”
Si-woo looked carefully at the vase.
A dragon soared through the clouds, its body coiling upward. Between the swirling clouds, the claws stood out clearly.
“Four.”
“That’s right. It’s a four-clawed dragon.”
The old man continued his calm explanation.
There was the depth of many years in his voice.
“A five-clawed dragon is reserved solely for the king. Four claws are the pattern used when the king bestows something upon a subject.”
The old man set the vase back on the table and looked at Si-woo.
“Jang Seok-chil’s work, plus the inscription marking it as a royal gift. This vase is no ordinary thing.”
His finger pointed to the crack.
“You may think the crack is unfortunate, but...”
“Couldn’t it be restored?” Si-woo asked carefully.
The old man shook his head.
“No. There’s no need to restore it.”
“No?”
“A crack like this is a trace of time. Proof that it has endured three hundred years. Collectors sometimes value such natural marks even more highly.”
The old man lifted his cup and took a sip.
“If you rush into restoration and lose the original character of the piece, that would be the greater loss.”
Si-woo’s throat had gone dry.
“Then... about how much would it be worth?”
The old man did not hurry. He examined the vase once more in silence.
“The inscription by Jang Seok-chil, the record of a royal gift, and the four-clawed dragon motif. A blue-and-white porcelain piece with all three conditions is extremely rare. If there were records in the Annals of the Joseon Dynasty, we might even be able to identify its owner.”
The old man looked at Si-woo.
“If we could learn the story behind the porcelain or the identity of the person who received it, the value would rise even further. Right now, even if it went to auction immediately, it could easily fetch more than 100 million won.”
Si-woo’s heart thudded wildly.
The information the status window had shown him was matching up exactly.
“However,” the old man continued, “the price can vary wildly depending on who you sell it to. If you meet the right collector, it could go for 200 or 300 million. But if you hand it over to some half-blind middleman, you won’t even get half that.”
The old man opened a drawer and took out a business card.
“I know a collector. He’s spent more than thirty years collecting Joseon porcelain alone. For an item like this, he’ll pay a fair price.”
Si-woo accepted the card respectfully with both hands.
Simple lettering was printed on the elegant paper.
“If you’re interested, give him a call. Just say that Elder Song sent you.”
“Thank you.”
“No need for thanks.”
The old man looked at the vase and said, “Good things always find their rightful owner.”
He lifted his cup and drained the last mouthful of tea.
“I hope this vase receives the value it deserves. It’s something that has endured for three hundred years. It should continue to remain and be passed down for many years to come, shouldn’t it?”
Si-woo bowed in thanks.
His steps were light as he left the shop.
* * *