Uncle Harvey—people in the trade called him Old Harvey—never frowned at the Delong market. Nothing there was worth frowning about. Whether it was jade gambling or jade carving, he moved through it all like a fish in water, effortlessly navigating every situation. That kind of composure is the most precious quality a man can possess.
But he'd just taken a phone call outside, and when he came back, his composure was gone. His brow was deeply furrowed.
"Is everything okay?" I asked.
"I've run into a thorny situation." Uncle Harvey quickly restored his outward calm, though I could tell it was just a surface. "My biggest investor has run into serious trouble. I need to go to Myanmar."
"You have an investor? What kind of trouble? Why is going to Myanmar so difficult?" I fired off a string of questions and felt silly, but the whole thing was genuinely baffling. I hadn't understood a single word.
"My business has financial backers. That was from when I first entered the trade—not many people know about it."
"Whoever invested in you has excellent taste! They must be incredibly wealthy!"
"Heh, good with compliments. Yes, a seriously wealthy individual."
"Someone that rich still runs into trouble?"
"Zane, troubles that rich people find troublesome are the real big troubles."
I scratched my head, not wanting to press further, and was about to excuse myself to go back to carving when Uncle Harvey turned the question around.
"Do you know what dragon-stone type jadeite is?"
"No, but I feel like I've heard the name. What is it?"
"What are the grades of jadeite texture and transparency?" Uncle Harvey quizzed me.
"That's basic! Bean grade, bean-glutinous, glutinous, glutinous-ice, ice, ice-glass, and glass grade—in that order, from worst to best."
"Correct. But can you state in one sentence what good texture and transparency means?"
I had to think about it. Knowing something intuitively wasn't the same as expressing it concisely. After a moment, I answered: "Good texture means fine and pure; good transparency means light passes through well. Combined—fine-grained, pure, and luminous—is good texture and transparency."
"Exactly. What's the best grade you've ever seen?"
"Glass grade."
"Now I want you to stretch your imagination. Picture a jade type that's even more transparent, purer, brighter, and more luminous than glass grade—and not the flat transparency of actual glass, but one that retains jadeite's characteristic hardness and depth. And the color must be saturated—the most premium, most perfect imperial green. This type is one grade above glass-grade imperial green."
"Such jadeite actually exists!?" I was stunned. "Better than glass-grade imperial green?"
"Yes. That's dragon-stone type."
"How much is dragon-stone type worth?" I still could barely believe it.
Uncle Harvey said, "To put a simple price tag on it—glass-grade imperial green jadeite: a cabochon sells for hundreds of thousands; a pendant plaque, millions; a bangle, tens of millions; a bead necklace can exceed a hundred million. You know all this?"
"I know. The Hong Kong auction in 2014 sold an emerald bead necklace for 214 million HKD. China has annual sales in the tens of millions too."
"Right. So what about dragon-stone type?"
"Good lord! How much would that be?"
"Every single piece, once made into a finished product, is worth over a hundred million yuan." Uncle Harvey's voice was unshakeable.
"Then why don't I hear people talking about it more?"
"Because it should have gone extinct decades ago! Dragon-stone type jadeite has only ever come from one mine—the Kaqin mine, which began operations during the British colonial period and stopped producing dragon-stone in the 1960s. So today, the surviving pieces should be exceedingly rare."
I felt my scalp tingle. "Dragon-stone jadeite isn't just the absolute pinnacle of quality—it also benefits from extreme rarity. Sixty years later, it's practically an antique!"
Uncle Harvey nodded. "Right. Do you know where the remaining dragon-stone jadeite is? In my investor's hands."
"He's done a meticulous inventory. He holds over ninety percent of the dragon-stone jadeite on the market. Practically a monopoly. So the real consumers of these top jadeite pieces—royalty, politicians, business elites, celebrity collectors from around the world—they all come to him. When you control ninety percent of the world's dragon-stone jadeite, you can command the wind and rain."
"My god! Who is this person?"
"Seeing is believing. Let's go!"
Uncle Harvey had already called a driver. We left the Delong market, got into the car, and Uncle Harvey told the driver, "To Jiegao."
---
Jiegao is a place between Ruili, China, and Muse, Myanmar—a duty-free zone that's "outside the customs, inside the border." From Ruili, it's only about fifteen minutes by car, very close. But Jiegao and Ruili are separated by a river that once served as the border between China and Myanmar. Now, however, a trade town called Jiegao sits on what is technically Myanmar's side but falls within Chinese customs territory—"outside the customs, inside the border"—a symbol of China-Myanmar friendship.
Jiegao is dominated by two golden towers, both built tall enough that from anywhere in Ruili, you can see them towering over the horizon. These are the famous Twin Gold Towers.
Twin Gold Towers represents the absolute pinnacle of the jadeite industry. The company is publicly listed overseas, with assets so vast and capabilities so enormous that I couldn't even begin to imagine them. If it was true that some mysterious billionaire held ninety percent of the world's dragon-stone jadeite, and that billionaire was the owner of Twin Gold Towers, it made perfect sense.
From a distance, the towers don't seem that large. Standing beneath them, you have to crane your neck until it aches. Add the blazing border sun beaming down, and those golden towers become two massive mirrors, so blinding you can't look directly at their peaks.
After taking in the towers' imposing presence, I asked Uncle Harvey, "So what kind of trouble could he possibly have? Running out of dragon-stone jadeite?"
Uncle Harvey smiled bitterly. "Wrong. Not less—more! The trouble is that dragon-stone type has reappeared on the market."
If dragon-stone jadeite, which should have gone extinct, suddenly resurfaced, it would undermine the billionaire's monopoly.
Uncle Harvey said, "I need to find out whether the Kaqin mine is actually producing new dragon-stone raw material. I have to investigate."
"So you're going there to investigate?"
"Yes, but not just to investigate. If it's truly back on the market, Twin Gold Towers will definitely want to—"
"Buy it all up first!"
"Exactly. Buy it all, maintain the monopoly. You're getting sharper, kid. That's exactly why I want you to come with me."
"I'm definitely going!" I said without hesitation.
But Uncle Harvey held up his hand, signaling me to slow down. "This trip carries significant risk. You should think it over carefully before deciding."
A job for Twin Gold Towers was obviously not going to be simple. But I felt this was an unprecedented opportunity to get close to the inner core of the jadeite industry. Whatever mystery lay at the heart of this fog, once it cleared, I might never get another chance to see it.
After a moment's thought, I said, "I've decided. I'm going."
"Excellent." Uncle Harvey nodded. "I need help. The other people I could bring either don't speak Burmese... or they're too deep into this business. I can't fully trust anyone else on this one."
---
The next day, Uncle Harvey and I departed from Ruili by car, traveling through Muse toward the mine.
Sitting in the black Myanmar car with white lettering, the right-hand drive felt awkward—everything seemed too close, making me nervous. I turned to look at the tropical vegetation flashing past the window. Most of the Myanmar plants were unfamiliar to me, lush and thriving under the blazing sun and humid air.
Suddenly—a deafening boom! A plume of black smoke rose in the distance. Then came rapid popping sounds, like a firefight in a war movie.
"What was that?" I had a bad feeling.
"That was artillery. And the gunfire is coming from over the hill."
"Are we going to be okay?"
Uncle Harvey said calmly, "Don't panic. These small skirmishes are normal here—doesn't even count as a war. Nothing will happen to us. Nobody's going to blow up the road—destroy the road and nobody can travel. Last year, fighting accidentally destroyed a bridge, and the entire Muse area shut down for days. What a mess."
This did not comfort me at all. I listened intently—the gunfire was indeed coming from a fixed location and growing more distant. Only then did my heart rate settle. Do jade merchants who travel in and out of Myanmar really treat the sounds of warfare like casual dinner-table conversation?
These people were all hardened characters. My respect for Uncle Harvey went up another notch.
After a bone-rattling journey, we arrived at the mine. The mine wasn't a single mountain but an enormous, sprawling range of them.
Except "range" wasn't quite right anymore. What our eyes actually beheld was an endless expanse of bare yellow earth—no trees for tens of kilometers. The mountainside was scarred with deep gashes from massive excavators, carved into the rock and reaching a hundred meters deep. Where mountains had once stood, as soon as jadeite was discovered, they were carved into half-slopes and deep pits. The slightest wind or movement sent clouds of grit and dust into the air.