Chapter 35: Forming a Good Connection

This shop was small, no bigger than twenty square meters.

Though tiny, it had all essentials. Shelves on the left displayed various wood carvings and bracelets.

The right side held a long worktable, walls covered with all kinds of tools.

A small lathe hummed inside the room.

A young man in a blue shirt was turning sandalwood beads.

Several similar workshops lined this street. Gao Jing had visited others earlier.

What drew him here was the old craftsman carving wood at a workbench.

The artisan looked ancient, with white hair and weathered skin.

Bent forward, he carved with intense focus.

He hadn’t noticed Gao Jing’s arrival.

A small piece of rosewood took shape—clearly becoming a pixiu beast.

Without interrupting, Gao Jing watched quietly.

A sharp chisel came alive in those hands—cutting, shaping, scraping in swift strokes. Each movement amazed.

Gao Jing’s gaze fixed on those hands: rough, calloused, stained dark by wood dust.

Yet this very pair crafted beauty.

Only after finishing did the old man set down his chisel.

He noticed Gao Jing.

“Ah.”

Flustered, he asked, “Sir, may I help you?”

Gao Jing smiled. “Master, could you make bracelets? I’ll provide the wood.”

“Bracelets?”

The artisan seemed puzzled. Bracelet polishing was simple work—most used machines nowadays.

His shop stood at the street’s far end, drawing few new customers.

Still, he wouldn’t refuse. “Of course. What material, what size beads?”

Gao Jing pulled wood from his bag. “This piece. Please examine it.”

Taking it, the old man’s eyes widened—like a person spotting his dream meal. His gaze could’ve ignited the timber.

Astonishment. Admiration. Desire.

“This wood…”

Calloused fingertips brushed its surface, his voice unsteady.

Gao Jing asked, “Can you work with it?”

He’d brought a Small-Leaf Sandalwood log—cloud-patterned water-wave scaled grade, bursting with golden stars.

In his world’s Shan Yue Village, this material built chairs and tables. Commonplace.

What the craftsman held was merely scrap.

Yet its quality stunned this experienced man.

“Absolutely!”

The artisan exhaled. “Haven’t seen such material in years. What design?”

Sandalwood bracelets came in long or short styles, with size variations. Wearers chose based on age and build.

“All short-strand.”

Gao Jing had decided earlier: “Three widths—10mm, 15mm, 20mm beads. For gifts, so even numbers of each. You decide details.”

He referred to bead diameters. Smaller beads needed more per bracelet.

A standard short strand: twenty-millimeter beads required twelve per bracelet, fifteen-millimeter beads needed fifteen.

After measuring the wood, the craftsman calculated with pencil and paper.

“Three bracelets each for 20mm and 15mm,” he announced. “Two for 10mm. Spare wood becomes dangling beads.”

“Acceptable?”

“Yes.”

Gao Jing nodded. “Cost?”

“Name your price.”

The artisan sighed. “Seeing this wood—I’d craft for free gladly.”

Gao Jing smiled. “Agreed.”

The man brought a chair for Gao Jing, then hurried to prepare the wood.

He shooed his apprentice from the lathe.

The master himself began cutting and shaping—work usually handled by others.

The apprentice busied himself drilling holes through beads.

After consulting Gao Jing, they lightly polished each piece.

Simple designs required no mastery. The master worked swiftly.

Sitting, Gao Jing browsed his phone. Soon, bracelets gleamed before him.

“These golden stars…”

The artisan murmured, “Extraordinary.”

Star patterns defined Small-Leaf Sandalwood’s value—more stars, higher worth.

Richly starred beads, precise cut and slight sheen, glowed like miniature cat’s-eye gems on one’s palm.

Too radiant to ignore.

Twelve matched beads strung together, secured with special knots.

Finished—a scaled water-wave pattern Small-Leaf Sandalwood bracelet exploding with golden stars.

“Holy cow!”

A yell came from outside.

A massive man pushed closer—possibly three hundred pounds.

His eyes bulged wide as soup bowls, locked on the golden-star bracelet now in Gao Jing’s grasp.

A moment like a man spotting beauty beyond measure.

“Incredible! Absolutely!”

The bald giant stared intensely at Gao Jing. “Brother, these are yours?”

Gao Jing nodded calmly.

The man, thirty or forty, had a jolly build like the Buddha statue.

Behind him stood two younger men.

Assistants, it seemed.

Around his thick neck hung pale jade Buddha charms. His wrists bore both long and short sandalwood strands—clearly fine work.

But nothing like Gao Jing’s.

And Gao Jing wasn’t holding just one.

More beads poured from the workshop. The master threaded another, and another strand.

The bald man stared, stunned.

His eyes danced between Gao Jing and the growing pile of bracelets.

Gao Jing ignored him.

He wouldn’t fear daytime tricks from this fellow—and felt no ill intent.

He packed all bracelets into his bag.

Finally, he drew out a fist-sized sandalwood chunk.

“For payment?” he offered the craftsman. “Acceptable?”

The master froze momentarily. Then he shook his head. “Too generous—I couldn’t.”

His labor hadn’t earned a treasure.

“You deserve it.”

Gao Jing gently set down the wood. “Thank you.”

Payment mattered less than forming a good connection through this gesture.

Mission achieved, he turned to leave.

“Brother!!”