On the old street of an ancient town, there was a blacksmith shop inhabited by an old blacksmith. As the demand for custom ironware faded, he began selling iron pots, axes, and dog chains instead. He sat inside the shop with goods displayed outside; he never shouted to attract customers, never haggled, and never closed up early. While his business wasn't booming, his daily earnings were enough to cover his food and tea.
Whenever you passed by his shop, you would see him lying contentedly in a bamboo chair with a radio in hand, a Zisha teapot resting on a small wooden table beside him.
One day, an antique dealer passing through the old street caught sight of the teapot. After careful inspection, the dealer realized it was a masterpiece crafted by a renowned master from the Qing Dynasty.
Overjoyed, the dealer offered ten thousand yuan to buy it. The old blacksmith was startled at first but ultimately refused. The teapot was a family heirloom left by his grandfather; for three generations, his family had shared water from this very pot, and their hard work was intertwined with its history.
Although the teapot wasn't sold, the blacksmith suffered from insomnia for the first time in his life after the dealer left. He had used the teapot for nearly sixty years, believing it to be a common object, never imagining it was worth such a fortune.
Previously, he could reach for the teapot with his eyes closed while resting, but now, even the slightest sound would make him sit up to check if it was still there. This constant anxiety was unsettling. Even worse, once the townspeople heard of his precious antique, they began visiting him to ask for treasures, borrowing money, or even sneaking in to "search" for valuables. The blacksmith's peaceful life was completely disrupted.
When the antique dealer returned with two hundred thousand yuan in cash, the blacksmith could no longer endure the chaos. He called his neighbors together, picked up a hammer, and smashed the Zisha teapot to pieces right before their eyes.
Afterward, life gradually returned to its tranquil rhythm. The old blacksmith continued selling his iron pots, axes, and dog chains. He spent his days lying in his bamboo chair, listening to the radio and drinking tea from an enamel cup. It is said that he has lived to be over a hundred years old.
