At his sixtieth birthday banquet, Zhou Shoushan was publicly thrown a hundred yuan note by his daughter-in-law and driven out of the house. Without uttering a word, he carried a snakeskin bag up to the back mountain. Three months later, the villagers discovered that the unwanted, barren pile of rocks had been cultivated by him into treasures that pharmaceutical merchants across the county were fighting over. Yet no one knew that every time he "looked" at the mountain, his eyesight worsened a fraction. Someone offered a hundred million to buy this mountain. Someone sneaked into his ginseng cellar overnight. And someone else set their sights on the crumpled hundred-yuan bill in his inner pocket. What on earth was buried beneath this mountain? And what was that old man, spurned by his entire family, really waiting for someone else to make the first move?