Chapter 162: A Windfall of Unbelievable Wealth

“I just heard that Shimen Village has some stone materials. Lin Heng, didn’t you say before that you wanted to buy some?”

The speaker was Zhang Zhigang, a man with a full beard and a broad smile.

“What kind of stone?” Lin Heng asked, curious.

He had indeed told everyone before that he wanted to buy stone materials since there were none for sale in their town and he’d have to bring them in from elsewhere. He’d hoped to spread the word and see if anything turned up.

He hadn’t expected news to come so quickly.

“Shimen Village has two mountains that produce bluestone. Many of us used to get slate from there when building houses. The bluestone is easy to quarry. I checked, and people are still cutting slate there. If you want to buy some, you can talk to the village chief of Shimen Village,” Zhang Zhigang explained with a smile.

“Alright, I’ll find some time to ask,” Lin Heng nodded.

He knew that Shimen Village could quarry slate, but whether it would meet his needs was still uncertain. He hadn’t gone before because he didn’t fully trust privately sourced stone — if you wanted stone, you’d have to buy it from a proper stone factory.

But since someone mentioned it, there was no harm in checking it out.

He’d also heard that Shimen Village had nice scenery, so he figured he might as well go see.

After a pause, Lin Heng continued, “Today’s work is the same—keep leveling the ground.”

Once everyone signed off on the work log, he assigned the tasks.

After inspecting the site for half an hour and finding no issues, he told his father and slipped away.

“Leave this place to me. You should go visit your third aunt and uncle; they’ve been here all day, it wouldn’t be right not to see them,” his father said, looking at him.

“Okay,” Lin Heng agreed.

Back at home, Xiulan was chatting happily with Xiaoxia and Lin Heng’s third aunt and uncle in his parents’ courtyard.

“Third uncle, third aunt, sorry we didn’t know you came to Red Maple Mountain yesterday, we should definitely have you over for lunch later,” Lin Heng greeted with a smile.

Seeing their faces, he remembered them. He’d been to their home as a kid; they were relatives on his father’s side. He recalled their daughter was very pretty, and he’d teased her a bit back then. That was six or seven years ago though—he wasn’t sure if she was married now.

“Your mom said you’re busy, it’s no problem,” his third uncle smiled.

If it had been before, Lin Heng might have been suspicious, but now he truly believed he was just busy.

His third aunt also held Lin Heng’s hand, laughing: “When you came to our house six years ago, you weren’t this tall. And now you’ve married such a beautiful wife like Xiulan—good for you.”

They had wanted to visit before but their son wouldn’t allow it. Now that the Lin family was better off, their son actively invited them to come see how things were.

“Haha, thank you, third aunt. We’ll definitely have lunch at our place,” Lin Heng said warmly, sensing her sincerity.

After chatting a bit more, Lin Heng brought them back to his own home, entertained them briefly, then asked his mother to keep them company.

“Wife, please take care of things here. I’m going to ride to Shimen Village to take a look,” Lin Heng said, holding his wife’s hand in the backyard. It felt a little unfair to leave her alone with all this.

“Come back in time for lunch. You really shouldn’t skip the banquet,” Xiulan said with a smile, brushing a leaf out of his hair.

For her, this was just normal, but Lin Heng’s words warmed her heart and made her even happier to help.

“Alright, I promise I’ll be back for it.”

Lin Heng nodded and after saying goodbye to his third aunt and uncle, he headed to the back mountain and mounted Hongzao.

“Giddy-up!!”

“Screech!!”

With a smack to the horse’s rump, Hongzao let out a whinny and bolted down the dirt road.

The weather had been unsettled these days—sunshine in the morning but gone now, making it slightly muggy.

Riding the horse, the autumn wind immediately felt cool and refreshing as the roadside scenery blurred behind him.

At the Shimen Village border, the road narrowed significantly, only about 1.7 to 1.8 meters wide.

But for Hongzao, it was still plenty wide enough to speed along.

After about a kilometer, he rode deeper into Shimen Village.

Here, the mountains on both sides were extremely steep, slopes of seventy or eighty degrees, covered with dense stands of yellow smoke tree. Traveling inward felt like venturing into a peach orchard, with red foliage carpeting the hills.

The towering, sheer mountains looked even more majestic, overwhelming anyone and making them feel incredibly small.

After about two kilometers, the mountains on either side suddenly drew farther apart and the slopes became gentler.

Lin Heng knew he had reached Shimen Village itself—a small mountain valley basin.

The Shiban River was much smaller here, its banks lined with farmland.

Apparently, the seven days of heavy rain last time had mercilessly washed away many of the fields.

“Come, I’ll show you where to drink,” Lin Heng said, leading Hongzao to the river.

While Hongzao drank, Lin Heng washed his face and strolled along the riverbank.

Caiyun had told him someone found crystals in this river before, and he wanted to try his luck too. If he found a super high-purity crystal, it could be worth a lot of money.

Even ordinary crystals would look nice as decorations at home, so he seriously started searching along the riverbank.

Hongzao, having drunk its fill, obediently grazed nearby.

“Huh, this wood looks strange,” Lin Heng muttered.

Walking along, he spotted something off.

It was a rotten log about three or four meters long, roughly forty centimeters in diameter, half-decayed.

What felt wrong was the wood’s grain—it didn’t look like ordinary rotten wood.

He pulled out his tempered steel dagger from his waist, chopped twice in a discreet spot, and his expression gradually went blank.

“Oh my god, this is petrified wood,” he whispered in surprise.

Though he couldn’t tell exactly which type of petrified wood it was, just knowing it was petrified wood made it very valuable.

He was a bit stunned. This recent flood hadn’t just brought crystals—it had uncovered petrified wood too.

It just seemed that no one had noticed this, and no one cared about these pieces of petrified wood.

That was normal—rotten wood was everywhere in the countryside, and no one paid attention to this kind of shabby-looking wood.

Besides, even if they knew it was petrified wood, most farmers wouldn’t know how to sell it.

For Lin Heng, this was fantastic news. The wood in the river had no owner—whoever found it could claim it.

He could pick it up and take it home without spending a single cent. That was what excited him the most.

Glancing at Hongzao, he headed further upstream to keep searching.

If he found a lot, he’d have to notify the Shimen Village committee and buy some stone, so they could deliver the wood as well.

If there were only a few pieces, he’d just carry them home himself.

After searching a few hundred meters upstream with no luck, he looked downstream.

Downstream, he found three logs and a large tree root, which made him a bit excited. “Looks like the petrified wood is all downstream. Maybe there’s some in the village too—I’ll have to check back there.”

At this point, he still didn’t know what kind of tree the petrified wood came from. Many trees could produce petrified wood. Common ones were Qinggang oak, Chinese hackberry, camphor, red toon, nanmu, as well as rosewood and cypress.

Among these, nanmu took the longest to form—over eight thousand years—and was the most expensive, followed by rosewood and camphor.

Before his rebirth, petrified wood like this sold for several hundred yuan per kilogram; even a small knot of golden-thread nanmu could fetch hundreds of thousands.

But since he was basically getting it for free, it didn’t matter what kind of wood it was—it was pure profit.

He glanced again at the wood, then rode Hongzao into Shimen Village.

Walking felt like the petrified wood might get stolen, and he was eager to haul it home as soon as possible.

Shaking his head, Lin Heng saw an elderly man by the roadside lighting a cigarette and asked with a smile, “Sir, where’s the mountain where you quarry stone around here?”

“Keep going straight up, and when you get close, look to your left—you can’t miss it,” the bald man grinned, examining his cigarette—Daqianmen brand, good stuff.

“Thanks.” Lin Heng nodded and rode onward.

Shimen Village had far fewer people than Hongfeng Village—only about sixty or seventy households, mostly clustered in this small valley, with some scattered farther up the mountain.

Besides the usual earthen houses, many were simple stone houses, looking quite old-fashioned.

Passing through the village, the paved road disappeared completely, replaced by a narrow mountain path about fifty centimeters wide. Lin Heng rode Hongzao about four or five hundred meters before spotting the stone quarry.

From a distance, it looked like a bluish stone mountain, with two men digging on the slope.

Tying his horse by the roadside to graze, Lin Heng walked closer to inspect.

There were plenty of broken stones scattered around, but they were all quite smooth and very hard—better than he’d expected.

“Uncle, do you quarry this stone for building your own house?” Lin Heng offered the two men some cigarettes and asked with a smile.

“Yes, we’re planning to build our own house,” the older man nodded.

“The stone is getting harder to quarry now. Good stone is deeper inside; the outside’s all been taken by others,” the shorter man lit a cigarette and sighed.

“How do you sell the stone?” Lin Heng asked out of curiosity.

“For villagers here, you can dig as much as you want. Outsiders who want to buy—whether they quarry it themselves or buy ready slabs—have to go through the village chief.”

“You’re from Hongfeng Village, right? Some people came to buy before. Finished slabs, one meter by one meter, cost about five or six mao each. If you want it delivered, that costs extra.”

“I feel like it’s not worth it. You can find stone to quarry somewhere in your own village,” Lin Heng said.

The two men smoked and chatted, trading words back and forth.

“Thanks,” Lin Heng nodded, talked a bit more, checked out the slabs they’d quarried, then left.

He searched further upstream along the river for signs of petrified wood but found nothing.

On the way back, he saw a stone foundation in the path, guessing these two men were indeed planning to build a stone house.

Pure stone houses had a kind of timeless beauty, not modern at all. They wouldn’t cost money but would probably take a year or two to build.

Lin Heng found the village chief of Shimen Village and told him about the matter.

He proposed that the village quarry the stone slabs and he would come to pick them up himself.

“How many slabs do you want?” The village chief, a tall, thin middle-aged man named Zhang Lei, asked.

“Three hundred slabs, at least three centimeters thick,” Lin Heng said with a smile.

“That’ll be five mao each. We have to finish and shape them properly—each slab takes half a day to make. If one breaks, it might take a whole day to fix,” Zhang Lei explained.

“That’s a bit expensive. Four mao a slab is what I can accept,” Lin Heng shook his head.

Zhang Lei nodded: “That price is possible, but fewer people will want to quarry at four mao. At five mao a slab, I can get it done within a month. Also, you’re free to take any of the other broken stones from the mountain—lots of those are usable.”

“Alright, that sounds fine,” Lin Heng thought it over and agreed.

They drafted a contract in duplicate, sealing the deal.

“Oh, Uncle Zhang, there are some rotten logs in the river. Can I take those back?” Lin Heng asked.

“Not just the river—any wood in the mountains, as long as it wasn’t cut by someone else, you can take it,” Zhang Lei said, clearly unconcerned about rotten wood.

“Great,” Lin Heng nodded, folded the contract and put it in his pocket, then rode off.

Riding swiftly, he went home first to get a chainsaw and some rope.

“Xiulan, where did you put the thick brown rope?” Lin Heng called out.

“In the drying room. Are you heading up the mountain? It’s almost ten o’clock—time for lunch soon,” Xiulan came over and asked.

“Yeah, I’m going to Shimen Village to haul back some logs. If we’re lucky, we might make a good profit,” Lin Heng said with a smile after grabbing the rope.

“Make a profit?” Xiulan looked puzzled.

“I’ll explain once I get back. I’m heading out now.” Lin Heng grinned and left with the rope.

After thinking a moment, he went back inside to feed Hongzao some corn mush before finally leaving.

When they arrived at Hongfeng Mountain, Lin Heng spotted his father working and called out as he approached, “Dad, stop what you’re doing for a minute—I need to talk to you.”

“What’s up?” his father asked as he came over.

“Dad, hitch the wooden cart to the horse. We’re going to haul something,” Lin Heng said with a smile.

“What are we hauling? And why are you still carrying that chainsaw?” His father looked curious.

“You’ll see when we get there,” Lin Heng teased.

His father gave a helpless smile. “Alright, just wait a moment.”

He turned to arrange his work, then brought the wooden cart out to the road.

After hitching the horse, Lin Heng hitched the cart and took off, speeding toward Shimen Village.

“So now you can tell me what this is about?” his father glanced at him.

Lin Heng smiled and explained, “We’re going to pick up some logs. If we’re lucky, we could make a few thousand yuan; if not, at least a few hundred.”

“What kind of wood is worth that much?” his father was stunned, finding it hard to believe.

“Petrified wood. The flood washed it out,” Lin Heng said with a grin.

His father looked even more confused. “What’s petrified wood?”

“Also called black wood—wood that’s been buried underground for thousands of years and almost carbonized,” Lin Heng explained.

Few people in the countryside knew about petrified wood or had any concept of its value.

The current market price wasn’t that high for petrified wood—usually around 400 to 500 yuan per ton, with golden-thread nanmu possibly reaching over a thousand.

But no matter what, this was free wealth.

His father’s face was full of shock. “Rotten wood buried underground can actually be worth that much?”

When they reached the spot and saw the gray, shabby-looking rotten wood, his father couldn’t believe it.

“Come on, Dad, let’s see if we can lift it,” Lin Heng said, looking at his father.

The wood was four meters long, and petrified wood was dense and extremely heavy.

“Whoa! This is heavy!” his father was amazed.

The two of them strained with all their might just to barely lift the log.

“This must weigh about 500 jin (roughly 250 kg),” Lin Heng gritted his teeth as he said.

After carrying it a few steps, they put it down. His father took a deep breath. “We can only split it in two—there’s no way to carry it whole.”

“Then let’s saw it,” Lin Heng nodded.

They propped the wood up, Lin Heng started the chainsaw, and began cutting.

Unlike regular wood, this petrified wood was incredibly tough and hard to saw. Luckily, it hadn’t carbonized yet, or it would’ve sparked.

His father fetched some water, and after five or six minutes, they cut the wood into two sections.

Dousing the cut surface with water revealed delicate, pale yellow grain patterns, slightly grayish, but very hard in texture.

“Looks like petrified camphor wood. It even smells fragrant, though I can’t be certain. But there’s no doubt it’s petrified wood,” Lin Heng said, sniffing it. As long as it was petrified wood, it was a good deal.

“I didn’t expect the wood to look so gray and dull outside but actually be so beautiful inside,” his father said, surprised—he was beginning to believe the wood was valuable.

“Come on, let’s load it on the cart quickly. There’s more down there, including a root.”

Lin Heng smiled. That petrified wood root was what he valued most—covered in knots, perfect for making premium tea trays or beads.

If the internal grain was good, it would be even more valuable.

They loaded the two logs onto the horse cart and drove a bit further down. Lin Heng then led his father to a second spot where petrified wood was found.

There were three pieces: two meters, five meters, and six meters long, each over thirty centimeters in diameter, but heavily cracked.

None looked like whole logs but rather fragments of one huge log that had split, with charred black exteriors.

They still managed to saw them into roughly two-meter sections.

Like the first piece, these three showed pale yellow grain with a grayish tint inside.

“How did you find these?” his father asked as they lifted the wood.

Lin Heng’s skill was impressive—he came looking at a stone slab and ended up with this pile of good wood, already earning a few hundred yuan.

“It’s all thanks to Caiyun—knowledge is power,” Lin Heng grinned. Without Caiyun mentioning crystals, he probably wouldn’t have gone to look.

Like he always said, the mountains hold plenty of wealth—you just need the eyes to discover it.

Many people don’t recognize petrified wood. If it’s intact, someone might want it; but these broken, shabby pieces are usually ignored.

“Do you know where to sell it?” his father asked again.

“Not planning to sell yet. I want to find someone to carve it or make tea trays—then it’ll be worth more,” Lin Heng shook his head. He wasn’t short on money right now, so no need to sell. These woods would appreciate in value later.

After loading the wood onto the cart, they walked half a kilometer downhill, to the last piece Lin Heng had found.

A big black tree root, completely rotten-looking.

“Is this even useful?” his father was surprised—this thing looked worthless.

“This one might be the most valuable,” Lin Heng smiled.

Whether carved, made into tea trays, or beads, this root was worth more than the other pieces.

His father’s confusion was understandable—how could a rural man grasp a city person’s fascination with these things?

Collecting and crafting these objects was a hobby for the wealthy.

Lin Heng started cutting into the root with the chainsaw to see the inside color.

With many knots, the root was even harder to saw, and they had to pour a lot of water to cut it open.

“My god, blood red!!”

At the moment they cut it open, Lin Heng was stunned. The black, gnarly root revealed a beautiful blood-red color inside.

“This wood is gorgeous!” his father was shocked, amazed that even this small cut showed such beautiful grain.

“We’re rich, rich!” Lin Heng was so excited he couldn’t close his mouth—this free fortune was huge.

If they kept that root at home, by the 2030s they could probably trade it for a whole house.

“Is this a red toon root?” his father asked curiously.

Lin Heng nodded. “I know only rosewood and red toon have red interiors. There’s no rosewood here, so this has to be ancient red toon.”

“Then let’s take it home quickly—no time to waste,” his father also got excited.

This relatively small tree root still weighed over 300 jin (about 150 kg). The two of them barely managed to lift it onto the road and then onto the horse cart.

Altogether, the wood on the cart weighed more than 2,000 jin (about a ton), and the tires seemed like they were struggling to bear the load.

Fortunately, the route back to Hongfeng Village was mostly downhill or flat, with very few uphill stretches; otherwise, they definitely wouldn’t have been able to pull it back.

After securing the wood, Lin Heng and his father each held one side, slowly making their way home.

It took them over forty minutes to finally reach the main road in front of their house. Looking at the time, it was already 1 p.m.

Lin Heng’s third uncle and aunt were waiting for them to come back for lunch.

Seeing them arrive with a cart full of wood, they asked curiously, “What kind of wood is this?”

“Black wood. It’s not worth much. We just brought it back to make something. Let’s go eat,” Lin Heng said with a smile, not wanting to reveal the huge fortune they’d stumbled on.

“Aren’t you going to unload it first?” his father asked.

“No need. We’ll do it after lunch,” Lin Heng smiled. Since they were already home, he wasn’t worried anymore.

This stuff had gone from ownerless to claimed.

With it loaded on their cart at home, no one would dare touch it.

“Alright then.”

After washing up, Xiulan had already laid out the dishes.

When nine dishes were served, Lin Heng’s third uncle and aunt couldn’t hide their shock.

“These dishes are amazing,” his third uncle exclaimed.

They had thought the meals at Lin Heng’s parents’ place were already quite lavish, but now it seemed like child’s play compared to this.

Lin Heng’s family had nine dishes featuring fish, pork, and beef, including braised pork offal and a winter melon fish ball soup, all enhanced with black truffle.

Just the aroma made their mouths water and stomachs growl.

In the countryside, being able to eat pork even once a month was considered a treat; yet Lin Heng’s family casually had five or six meat dishes, plus braised meat.

Suddenly, they gained a very clear understanding of Lin Heng’s wealth and couldn’t help but envy him from the bottom of their hearts.

“Don’t mention it, we just made a few simple dishes,” Lin Heng’s third aunt quickly said.

“There’s nothing special. It’s just that there’s plenty of meat right now. Uncle and aunt, let’s drink and eat,” Lin Heng said and immediately started eating—he was starving.

“Yes, please don’t be shy,” Lin Heng’s parents said as well.

“Alright.”

The two of them smiled in response, took a sip of wine, and eagerly grabbed a piece of braised pork liver.

Even if they wanted to be polite, their bodies wouldn’t let them.

Eating it brought tears to their eyes—it was so delicious it felt like a dream.

“Thanks to you, Lin Heng. It’s been so long since I’ve had braised pork,” his uncle sighed.

“Then eat more. There’s plenty,” Lin Heng smiled.
(End of chapter)