Qin Xiaopang felt deeply distressed. "Just for this thing, it costs five hundred yuan?"
Li Banfeng’s money pouch was tight, and Shopkeeper Feng noticed.
The day before yesterday, when he helped him with directions, this young man had bought a top hat and a feather duster. Shopkeeper Feng remembered it clearly. This was a sensible person.
"How may I address you, guest?"
Li Banfeng answered, "My surname is Li. You can call me Li Qi."
"Boss Li, I’ll put this knife on your tab. Once you come back from picking flowers, we can settle the bill."
Li Banfeng was stunned.
Shopkeeper Feng’s smile remained unchanged. "You are a man who can get things done. I trust you."
Li Banfeng thanked him and accepted the Sickle.
Shopkeeper Feng took a small spade from under the counter, about ten centimeters long, and handed it to Li Banfeng. "Some flowers have deep roots and are hard to pick. Do you think this spade is suitable?"
Li Banfeng took the spade, examined its shape, and felt the edge before asking, "How much for this spade?"
Shopkeeper Feng laughed. "Considering the material and the craftsmanship, this spade is better than that Sickle. By rights, eight hundred wouldn’t be expensive, but you know a good product when you see one. If it suits you, take it for seven hundred."
"Seven hundred..." Li Banfeng hesitated. It was a good item, but to put more on his tab felt inappropriate.
Shopkeeper Feng understood Li Banfeng’s difficulty. "Take it and use it first. If it suits you, bring me the money. If it doesn’t, just bring the item back."
Li Banfeng accepted the spade and then wanted to buy some cloth bags from the Shopkeeper.
Shopkeeper Feng gave him two. "Two cloth bags should be enough. Flowers are easy to pick, but difficult to carry down the mountain."
Li Banfeng took his advice. Shopkeeper Feng then asked with a smile, "Is there anything else you’d like to buy?"
There were no windows in the Portable Residence, so he couldn’t see the sun or moon, making it impossible to distinguish day from night. Li Banfeng considered buying a watch.
Shopkeeper Feng brought out a Pocket Watch. Its body was two sizes larger than a one-yuan coin, with a shiny silver case that could reflect a person’s image.
CLICK!
He pressed the catch, opening the case to reveal a white dial with twelve exquisitely embossed numerals.
The crown, which was also the winding stem for the Pocket Watch, was at the twelve o’clock position. Shopkeeper Feng pinched the crown, gave it a few turns, and then pulled it out two clicks.
Li Banfeng had seen this type of mechanical watch before. When the crown wasn’t pulled out, it was for winding. Pulled out one click, it was for setting the time. Pulled out two clicks, it was for adjusting the calendar.
TICK-TOCK, TICK-TICK-TOCK.
The Pocket Watch emitted the sound of a music box.
Li Banfeng had worked in such places and remembered the tune well, but he couldn’t recall its name.
It had been a long time since he’d listened to music.
The sound made Li Banfeng feel a comforting sense of familiarity.
"How much is this watch?"
Shopkeeper Feng, holding the watch chain, replied, "A Pocket Watch from Cheman Country, guaranteed genuine or your money back. It’s two thousand two hundred. I’m afraid I can’t put this on your tab."
Li Banfeng was tempted, but the price was astonishing.
Qin Xiaopang said impatiently, "What’s the use of buying this! It’s not even as good as a clock!"
Shopkeeper Feng just smiled and said nothing.
As Qin Xiaopang urged him to hurry, Li Banfeng glanced at the shelves, looking for anything else useful. His gaze suddenly landed on a strange object.
It was a wooden cabinet, a rustic redwood piece, about the size of two stacked bedside tables. On top were three metal, horn-shaped flowers.
To be precise, they weren’t horn-shaped flowers but three actual horns. One was very large, its opening wider than a dinner plate. The other two were much smaller, about the size of a fist.
"Is this a Phonograph?" Li Banfeng’s eyes lit up. He had seen these devices on TV—machines that played music using records.
"A Phonograph?" Shopkeeper Feng shook his head. "This isn’t called a Phonograph."
But Shopkeeper Feng’s answer left Li Banfeng quite disappointed. "We don’t have anything here that runs on electricity. This is a Phonograph; it doesn’t use electricity."
Only today did he realize that the most primitive Phonographs had nothing to do with electricity or magnets. They relied on only two things: the needle and the record.
Shopkeeper Feng placed a shellac record on the Phonograph’s tray. He then took a crank from the drawer beneath the Phonograph, inserted it, and turned it vigorously more than a dozen times.
This was to wind the Phonograph.
Once it was fully wound, he released a catch, and the record began to spin quickly on the tray.
Shopkeeper Feng placed the needle on the record. A song, accompanied by faint static, floated out from the Big Horn.
"Floating clouds disperse,
The bright moon shines upon those who return,
Reunions full of joy,
Tonight I am drunk."
Full Moon and Blooming Flowers.
The ancient Phonograph operated on a very simple principle.
The record had grooves of varying depths. These grooves were etched by the needle as it vibrated to the sound of the song being recorded.
Now, as the needle traveled along those grooves on the record, the friction generated sound, recreating the original song.
This was the acoustic principle of the Phonograph.
The sound quality couldn’t be called good; it was even rather rough.
But Li Banfeng really liked the tune and listened with great pleasure.
Unfortunately, the playing time was short. In less than three minutes, the needle reached the end, the spring unwound completely, and the record stopped.
Qin Xiaopang looked disdainful. "What’s so good about this? Listening to one song requires cranking it for so long. It’s too much trouble."
"You can listen to music without winding it," Shopkeeper Feng said, placing a new record on the tray.
He brought a metal cup and poured two cupfuls of water into one of the small horns next to the Big Horn.
Shopkeeper Feng struck a match and opened a small door on the lower right side of the Phonograph.
Inside the door was a hidden compartment. Fixed within it was an Iron Box, half-filled with grease, with a wick in the center.
He lit the wick, and a flame illuminated the entire hidden compartment.
Li Banfeng didn’t know what kind of oil it was, but he could feel its intense heat even from a distance.
HISS! HISS! HISS!
The small horn to the right of the Big Horn rhythmically spouted mist.
The small horn on the left was for adding water, while the one on the right was for venting Steam.
The record began to spin on the Phonograph.
Li Banfeng’s eyes widened. The education he had received over the past ten-odd years was once again challenged.
After about a minute, once the record’s rotation speed steadied, Shopkeeper Feng placed the needle on it.
"The butterfly flies away,
And the heart is no longer present,
On a long quiet night who will come,
To wipe tears from full cheeks."
Wild grass and casual flowers come alive in spring.