Chapter 8 - Chapter 8: Bide One’s Time, Treasures Hidden in Alleys

The next three days passed in a tense calm. I stayed at home, pretending to be the same ordinary student as before—attending classes during the day, doing homework at night, and never mentioning anything about stamps or the small town to my parents. But beneath this calm surface, my mind was racing. I kept replaying the encounter with Mr. Li in the small town, wondering if it was really a coincidence or if he had been following me all along. Every time I passed by the window, I would glance outside, half-expecting to see his familiar figure lingering nearby.​On Wednesday afternoon, after school, I sneaked to the edge of the city's stamp market, but didn't go in. I stood under a old banyan tree, its thick branches and leaves casting a cool shade over me, and watched the comings and goings of collectors and vendors from a distance. The market was even busier than before, with people talking loudly about the soaring prices of rare stamps. I heard someone mention that Mr. Li had bought several sets of rare zodiac stamps in the past two days, and his name had become a topic of conversation among the vendors—they all said he was a wealthy and experienced collector, with a sharp eye for valuable stamps.​I knew I couldn't compete with him head-on—not yet. I had fewer resources and less experience, so biding my time was the only way to win. I decided to go back to that small town again, but this time, I would choose a weekday, when there were fewer people and Mr. Li was less likely to appear. I also planned to explore the narrow alleys I hadn't had time to visit last time—those hidden, winding alleys, lined with old houses, were often where the most unexpected treasures were hidden.​Friday morning, I asked my teacher for a day off, saying I had a slight fever. The teacher believed me and let me go home. As soon as I got home, I changed into plain clothes, packed my bag, and quietly left the house. The bus to the small town was not crowded on a weekday; there were only a few passengers, most of whom were elderly people going to the town to visit relatives. The journey was peaceful, with the scenery outside the window changing from tall city buildings to green fields and small villages, the air gradually becoming fresh and sweet, free from the dust and noise of the city.​When I got off the bus, the small town was even quieter than before. The autumn sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the entire town. The narrow stone streets were paved with smooth gray stones, worn smooth by years of footsteps, and there were patches of green moss growing in the cracks, adding a touch of vitality to the old town. On both sides of the street, old houses with blue tiled roofs stood in rows, their walls covered with light gray moss, some windowsills adorned with potted chrysanthemums, their bright yellow and white petals blooming quietly in the autumn breeze. A few old men sat on bamboo stools at the door of their houses, smoking dry tobacco and chatting slowly, their voices mixing with the chirping of sparrows in the trees, creating a leisurely and peaceful atmosphere.​I walked along the stone street, my steps light, breathing in the fresh air mixed with the fragrance of chrysanthemums and the earthy smell of the stone. Unlike the bustling city, the small town moved at a slow pace, as if time had slowed down here. I passed the small grocery store where I had gotten the rabbit stamps, and the old man was still sitting at the door, dozing off in the sun. I smiled and walked past quietly, not wanting to disturb him.​This time, I didn't follow the map. Instead, I turned into a narrow alley on the left side of the street. The alley was even narrower, only wide enough for one person to pass through, and the walls on both sides were covered with ivy, their green leaves hanging down, swaying gently in the wind. The ground was covered with fallen leaves, which crunched under my feet, making a soft rustling sound. From time to time, I could hear the barking of dogs from the courtyards of the old houses, and the sound of housewives chatting in low voices, adding a touch of life to the quiet alley.​At the end of the alley, there was a small courtyard with a wooden door half-open. Through the crack of the door, I could see a small garden inside, with a few old osmanthus trees, their golden flowers blooming, filling the air with a sweet fragrance. A gray-haired old woman was sitting on a stone bench in the garden, sorting through a pile of old items—stamps, old photos, and some worn-out cloths. I hesitated for a moment, then gently knocked on the wooden door.​"Come in," a gentle voice came from inside. I pushed the door open and walked in. The garden was small but tidy, with potted plants placed everywhere, and the osmanthus fragrance was even stronger. The old woman looked up, smiled at me, and said, "Young man, what are you doing here?"​"Grandma, I'm looking for some old stamps," I said politely, pointing to the stamps in her hand. "Do you sell these?" The old woman nodded, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "These are all old stamps I collected when I was young. My husband used to like collecting stamps too, but he passed away a few years ago. These stamps have been sitting here, gathering dust. If you like them, you can take a look."​I walked over, my heart beating fast. The old woman spread out the stamps on the stone bench, and I carefully flipped through them. Most of them were common stamps, but after flipping through a few, I found a set of snake zodiac stamps, which I remembered would be extremely rare in a year's time. The stamps were in perfect condition, with bright colors, and there was no wear at all—they must have been well-preserved by the old woman.​"Grandma, how much is this set of snake stamps?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. The old woman looked at the stamps, her eyes filled with nostalgia. "This set was my husband's favorite. He spent a lot of effort to collect them. But now, they're useless to me. If you really like them, give me 500 yuan. That's all I ask."​500 yuan! I almost jumped for joy. This set of snake stamps would be worth more than 1,500 yuan in a year, which was a huge profit. I quickly took out 500 yuan from my pocket and handed it to her. "Thank you, grandma. I'll take good care of them." The old woman smiled and patted my hand. "I'm glad someone can appreciate them. Take them, young man."​I carefully put the stamps into an envelope and tucked it into my inner pocket. Just as I was about to leave, the old woman said, "Wait a minute, young man. I have another box of old stamps in the house. They're not very good, but maybe you'll like them. I'll go get them for you." Before I could refuse, she stood up and walked into the house.​A few minutes later, she came out with a small wooden box. She opened it, and inside were dozens of stamps, mostly common ones, but among them, I saw a set of sheep zodiac stamps that I didn't have yet. This set was not as rare as the snake stamps, but it would still be worth 600 yuan in a few months. "These are all the stamps I have. You can take them for 100 yuan," the old woman said.​I didn't hesitate to take out 100 yuan and hand it to her. "Thank you so much, grandma. You've helped me a lot." The old woman smiled and said, "It's nothing. These stamps are just old things to me. It's better to give them to someone who likes them than to let them gather dust."​I said goodbye to the old woman and walked out of the courtyard, closing the wooden door gently. The osmanthus fragrance lingered on my clothes, and I felt a surge of joy. Today's harvest was even better than I had expected—two more sets of stamps, which would bring me more wealth in the future. I walked back along the alley, the fallen leaves crunching under my feet, and the sun filtering through the ivy leaves, casting dappled light on the ground.​As I walked back to the main street, I passed a small teahouse. I decided to go in and rest for a while, to avoid attracting attention. The teahouse was small but warm, with wooden tables and chairs, and the walls adorned with old paintings. A few customers were sitting at the tables, drinking tea and chatting quietly. I ordered a cup of jasmine tea, sat by the window, and looked out at the street.​As I sipped my tea, I heard two men at the next table talking about Mr. Li. "Did you hear? Mr. Li went to the small town last weekend, but he didn't buy many stamps. He seemed to be looking for someone," one man said. "Looking for someone? Who?" the other man asked. "I don't know. He asked the vendors about a teenager who buys rare stamps, but no one knew who he was," the first man replied.​My heart sank. So Mr. Li had really been following me! He had gone to the small town to find me, not just to buy stamps. I felt a chill run down my spine. He was more persistent than I had thought. I finished my tea quickly, paid the bill, and left the teahouse, keeping my head down, trying to avoid being noticed.​I didn't dare to stay in the town any longer. I walked quickly to the bus station, bought a ticket, and boarded the next bus back to the city. On the bus, I took out the new stamps and looked at them. The snake and sheep stamps were beautiful, but they also reminded me of the danger that was following me. Mr. Li was determined to find me, and I had to be even more careful.​When I got home, I immediately locked myself in my room, took out all my stamps, and checked them carefully. I now had six sets of rare zodiac stamps, plus some common ones, and my savings were also growing. I hid the new stamps in the floorboard, next to the others, and then moved the wooden box to another hiding place—under the bed, but wrapped in old clothes, to make it even more hidden.​That night, I thought about my next move. I knew that Mr. Li would not give up looking for me, so I had to change my strategy. I would no longer go to the same old shops or the small town too often. Instead, I would look for other small towns nearby, ones that were even more remote, where Mr. Li was less likely to go. I also decided to start learning more about the stamp market, to predict the price trends more accurately, so that I could sell my stamps at the best time.​I also thought about the old woman in the alley. Her kindness made me feel warm, and it reminded me that not everyone in this world was as competitive as Mr. Li. There were still people who valued feelings more than money. I decided that if I ever became successful, I would go back to the small town and thank her properly.​As I lay in bed, I looked out the window. The moon was bright, and the stars were twinkling. The small town's peaceful image lingered in my mind—the stone streets, the old houses, the osmanthus fragrance, and the old woman's warm smile. But beneath this peace, there was a hidden danger. Mr. Li was still looking for me, and the stamp market was becoming more and more competitive.​But I was not afraid. I had the memories of the past, I had the stamps I had collected, and I had the determination to change my fate. I would bide my time, wait for the right opportunity, and then strike hard. I would not let Mr. Li stop me, and I would not let my past regrets repeat themselves. This was my counterattack, and I would keep moving forward, no matter what obstacles I faced.​Tomorrow would be a new day, and I would continue to plan my next step. I would be more cautious, more clever, and more patient. The treasures hidden in the alleys of the small town had given me more hope, and I would seize every opportunity to turn these hopes into reality. I knew that the road ahead was still long and difficult, but I would never give up.