Amidst this desolate mining landscape, one hilltop remained untouched, covered in lush green vegetation, looking impossibly fresh. Atop this hill stood a cluster of villas—the mine owner's residence.
The mine owner was named U Naing Po—a Burmese man. The "U" in his name wasn't the Chinese surname; it was just a Burmese honorific that sounded like "U." Uncle Harvey had told me about Boss U on the drive over—a former soldier with an exceptionally even temper. This kind of placid demeanor only belongs to men who've lived through real bullets and bloodshed, who've seen death so many times it no longer frightens them. For someone like that, all the petty concerns of business—profits and losses, wealth and status—seem trivial compared to survival. Nothing was ever a big deal, so he never needed to lose his temper. But Uncle Harvey also warned me: when Boss U did decide to act, he moved like a thunderbolt.
The mine owner owned the entire mountain, making him extraordinarily wealthy, but Boss U didn't put on any airs. White flip-flops, a white longyi, a gold-trimmed Burmese jacket, and one large jadeite thumb ring. This outfit only emphasized his dark, powerful build, yet he radiated an approachable warmth.
Boss U greeted us warmly. "Thwa ba bi la?"
Uncle Harvey smiled. "Thwa ba bi."
This was truly a universal greeting—the Burmese equivalent of "Have you eaten?"
Boss U then turned to me, saying "Ye gyi ba ba" while handing us both bottles of mineral water. Water wasn't enough—he offered cigarettes too. Uncle Harvey smiled and accepted; I didn't smoke, so I declined.
Uncle Harvey and Boss U clearly knew each other well. But Uncle Harvey didn't reveal our actual purpose, saying instead that we'd come to buy stones and he was bringing his young friend for an educational tour. Boss U was generous, giving us free rein of the mine and assigning an internal driver.
The driver took us on a violently bumpy ride up the mountain to see jadeite being mined. I struggled to contain my excitement—for so long, jadeite had been my life's calling, the precious canvas that jade carvers dreamed of using, and I'd never seen with my own eyes how it was extracted from the earth!
Reaching the summit and looking down at the actual mining operation was truly staggering. Excavators roared with deafening noise, seeming to make the earth itself tremble. The rumble came not just from the diggers but from the dump trucks too. Excavators continuously poured ore mixed with earth into the trucks. There must have been at least a hundred dump trucks visible, crawling along the winding mountain roads like ants in a line. Each truck moved methodically, carrying the ore away.
This wasn't just "mining"—the machines were practically eating the landscape itself.
I asked Uncle Harvey, "Is all this ore jadeite?"
"Of course not. Copper, iron, rare earths—they're all mixed in. And the vast majority is just rock."
"How much of it is jadeite?"
"Hard to say. People mine for a lifetime and find nothing. And even when they do find jadeite, it's mostly 'per-kilogram material'—cheap, sold by weight at the lowest prices."
"We're here." Uncle Harvey saw me lunging for the door and laughed. "Slow down, no rush."
The mine was thick with airborne dust, the ground carpeted with crushed rock and gravel. After just a few steps, I understood why Uncle Harvey had worn classic Burmese flip-flops. Within moments, my sneakers were packed with sand and grit, crunching with every step. His flip-flops, on the other hand, turned the same shade of dirt as everyone else's within five seconds—but he didn't care, and they looked comfortable.
"So where are all these trucks taking the stones and earth?"
"There's a riverbed below. They use natural waterpower to wash the dirt off the stones." Uncle Harvey pointed ahead, where dump trucks were converging on the riverbed, unloading their cargo and turning back for more. The water that washed the rocks and earth had long turned the same muddy yellow as the mountainside.
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Uncle Harvey and I walked downstream along the river. Where the water slowed and shallowed, the earth had been completely washed away, leaving only stones.
A large group of people was busy here. At first glance, everyone seemed to have their own task, but on closer observation, they all deferred to a single man. This man had no hair, looked very young—only in his twenties—wore a black short-sleeved shirt and a black longyi like a Burmese skirt, and stood among the crowd like a deity, with everyone following his commands.
Uncle Harvey leaned close to my ear and whispered in Chinese: "This is who we need to talk to. He's a jade appraiser."
After saying that, he fell silent and kept walking. We approached the man in black.
He stood in the shallow water, wearing boots, holding a powerful flashlight. Workers queued up to bring him stones one by one. The appraiser touched the flashlight beam to each stone like a priest administering holy water—tap, one second, and he'd immediately issue his verdict: "Yes" or "No," then move to the next stone.
His "yes" and "no" commands were so brief and decisive that the workers responded instantly, like imperial edicts—picking up each stone and carrying it to its designated location without hesitation. Stones blessed with a "yes" were stacked on a thick cloth; stones rejected with a "no" were hurled down a muddy slope to form small mountains.
"What's he doing?"
"When he says it's jadeite, it's definitely jadeite. When he says it isn't, it's definitely not. He separates the jadeite from the rubble first, then the jadeite goes to the mine owner's facility for cutting."
"He can tell just by looking? That's incredible?"
"Just that incredible."
"What does he base his judgment on?"
"Freshly mined stones have a wax crust—looks different from what we see once they reach Ruili. Especially when they've just come out of the earth and been exposed to sunlight, you need to look—" Uncle Harvey suddenly paused, apparently deciding I wouldn't understand even if he explained, and instead asked, "Do you know how much he earns?"
"How much?"
"Over a million a year. More than plenty of corporate executives or financial elites."
"Well, not really... some executives make millions of dollars a year." I wasn't sure why I was arguing.
"You came from Beijing, so you've seen the big world. But have you ever thought about an elite executives' education, if you count it as a cost? Graduate degrees, possibly from top schools?"
I was stumped.
"Zane, you went to college, and a good one. But do you know how many years of schooling this appraiser has had? Not even one. As long as he has his eye for jade, and as long as people are still mining, he'll keep earning his million-yuan salary."
"Yeah, he's definitely impressive."
We watched for a little longer until the appraiser paused his work and went to a nearby shelter for water and rest. Uncle Harvey waved from a distance and walked over. The mine's ambient noise—machines, voices, flowing water, colliding stones—made conversation nearly impossible unless you were standing very close.
"Brother, we're friends of Boss U. We came to see you all." Uncle Harvey dropped the boss's name first.
"Look, welcome, welcome."
"Brother, have you seen any good material lately?"
"Boss, not much!" The appraiser was used to speaking loudly from spending all day on the mountain, so he still answered in a booming voice.
"I heard your mine has been producing quite a few high-end dragon-stone raw stones! I came to buy!"
Uncle Harvey squinted and smiled at him.
"Yes. I've heard that too, but I haven't seen any! I've been at Kaqin for five days. In those five days, not a single stone I've examined has reached ice grade or above!"
The blazing sun had kept all of us squinting, but now Uncle Harvey's eyes went wide: "That's strange. You said you just arrived five days ago?"
"Boss, I wasn't here before. I was at—" The previous appraiser, Boss U felt, wasn't discerning enough, so he'd brought this man over. "He gave me four hundred million."
Four hundred million!? I was absolutely floored.
Uncle Harvey saw my wide-eyed reaction and whispered, "Burmese kyat. About two million RMB."
Two million a year. Not bad at all.
"Was the previous appraiser not good enough?"
"No! Because Boss U discovered dragon-stone jadeite, he said the others couldn't spot it, so he brought me here to help him look. Boss, honestly, I didn't come for the money. I came to see the dragon-stone type! After all these years as an appraiser, I want to witness it myself! Dragon-stone type—I've never seen it in my life!"
The more I listened, the more confused I became. If dragon-stone jadeite had been discovered, why did they need a new appraiser? And if the previous appraiser couldn't identify it, then which appraiser had examined the stones that were now on the market?
He grew more animated: "Dragon-stone type was already extinct before I started as an appraiser. But the old-timers in Myanmar all talked about it—how incredibly top-grade the texture and transparency were, all from Kaqin! Everyone connected to it skyrocketed like a dragon passing through the heavenly gates. So I wanted to see it with my own eyes too!"
"So you're saying not a single piece has been mined these past few days?"
"None! All worthless."
The appraiser didn't know either. It appeared that the stones genuinely hadn't been found here. But the rumors about dragon-stone jadeite appearing were everywhere. Where were they coming from?