“Hey! Our Old Fan has only treasures, all rare and precious! Can’t just hand them out willy-nilly… Come, young man, have a look around. If you see something you like, this old man will give you the cost—cough—a discount!”
Lin Tian almost rolled his eyes on the spot. In places antique market, 99.99% of the items were fakes, sourced from the same few suppliers. No wonder the old guy dared to claim he’d give it at “cost”…
Meanwhile, Jiang Yifeng, Xuan Yuan Qingya, and Xue Xue entered the Xue family’s antique shop, easing some of the pressure off Lin Tian’s shoulders.
He looked at the variety of wares laid out by the vendor who called himself Old Fan, and his gaze landed on a square-shaped sandalwood incense box. The box looked exquisitely crafted. Although it had been artificially aged, it clearly had some actual age to it, at least a decade old.
Still, calling it a real antique would be pushing it…
Lin Tian didn’t ask the price directly. Doing so would only get him ripped off. In the original storyline, Jiang Yifeng had bought this same box, and by then, he had more money than he could spend. The old vendor knew he had a big spender on his hands and had quoted three million straight up. Jiang Yifeng didn’t even blink as he bought it.
However, in terms of actual value, the box was worth a few hundred yuan at most. But what it contained a secret technique from the Huangdi Neijing? Then it was priceless beyond imagination.
“How much for this stone?”
“Three hundred thousand.”
“Nine hundred thousand.”
“Sir, I’m young—not stupid…”
Lin Tian stared speechlessly at the skinny old man. Not a single honest word came out of his mouth.
That so-called river stone? You could fill a basket with them from any riverbed, and this guy was bold enough to ask for three hundred thousand…
Old Fan chuckled and waved dismissively.
“Just teasing, kid. Come on, what do you really want?”
“I’m serious about all three of these.”
“Alright, I won’t cheat you. Sixty thousand, final price.”
Lin Tian stood up and walked away without a second thought. He wanted that incense box, sure, but he wasn’t about to get fleeced. At best, it was worth a thousand yuan. The old man was being ridiculously greedy.
Seeing Lin Tian about to leave, Old Fan panicked. The three items Lin Tian asked about had been sitting unsold in his hands for years. Finally, someone showed real interest. How could he let the customer slip away?
“Wait, wait—come back! Look, since you’re serious, I’ll give you a real discount. Honestly, I got them for thirty thousand total. Someone once offered me fifty, and I didn’t sell. But today, we’re fated to meet—five thousand, and they’re yours.”
“Forty-five hundred.”
“Okay, okay… Two thousand, deal!”
After haggling for a bit, Old Fan realized this kid wasn’t an easy mark and reluctantly agreed.
He was full of nonsense, so Lin Tian had no guilt about scoring a great deal.
After paying, Lin Tian placed the stone and bead into the sandalwood box, grabbed it, and walked off.
Old Fan stared at the money in his hand, grinning from ear to ear!
Just as Lin Tian suspected: the “river stone” was literally picked from a riverbed and had cost Old Fan only three yuan. The bead came from a wholesale market, two for fifteen yuan; and the box, his most expensive item, was bought from a second-hand stall for ninety-eight yuan. Total cost? Just over a hundred yuan. And he’d sold it for two thousand! To Old Fan, Lin Tian was just a gullible rookie. He beamed proudly.
“This kid’s still too green… Little does he know, I—Old Fan—am a master at reading naive buyers like him!”
If only he knew that inside that humble incense box were several priceless scrolls containing secret techniques from the Huangdi Neijing… he’d be sick with regret.
As Lin Tian finished his purchase and walked out of the antique market, a convoy of over ten low-key yet luxurious cars slowly rolled into the area.
If Lin Tian had seen who was inside those cars, he might’ve found many faces familiar—because most of them were big names who had appeared at the Zhao clan’s ancestral banquet!
Among them were Zhao Dongyun, head of the Zhao family, and his youngest daughter Zhao Mengmeng, Bai Ze, head of the Bai family, with his only daughter Bai Bing’er, Li Siyi, head of the Tian’an Li family, with his children Li Yangqiu and Li Yunqiu and Meng Youqian, head of the Huan City Meng family, with his daughter Meng Xiaoling.
In short, everyone in those cars were high-ranking figures whose mere presence could shake the entire business scene of Licheng. Families like the Mengs even held considerable influence in the military and political worlds. So why had they all gathered at Bāli Street’s antique market?
The reason was their shared passion, connoisseur.
Today happened to be the day of a high-end private auction hosted by one of the most respected collectors in the area. Some of the highest-ever prices for certain types of antiques in all of China had come from this very auction.
To be invited to such an event was, in a way, a symbol of one’s wealth and social capital. It also helped boost one’s reputation in other circles. However, despite being held quarterly, the event had always maintained an elite list of just a dozen or so attendees.
At that moment, Shang Chan was also being brought along, on the personal orders of Zhao Dongyu, for her to gain some experience at the auction. After all, the Zhao family would one day be passed down to Shang Chan. Getting her familiar with such high-end settings was one of the few things Zhao Dongyun could still do for his daughter.
Back on the main road of Bāli Street, the sleek convoy moved slowly. Zhao Dongyun sat in the back seat, with his gentle and elegant daughter Zhao Mengmeng beside him.
He smiled warmly. “Mengmeng, this auction is a big deal. Don’t speak out of turn when we get there. Wait for your sister to arrive, and the two of you can learn a thing or two.”
“Okay!” Zhao Mengmeng nodded obediently.
Within the Zhao family, even setting aside her status as the second daughter of the main branch, Zhao Mengmeng had always been the most adored because she was sweet and perceptive. Even around her own father, she instinctively acted with the careful habits she’d developed over the years: gentle, thoughtful, always agreeable.
But in a sudden moment of distraction, Zhao Mengmeng recalled that man from the night before, the one who could hear her thoughts, who shared a sashimi dinner with her, and then left the next morning without even saying goodbye.
Her heart warmed at the memory of how free and happy she felt around him; able to be herself, without filters. But now, she quietly wondered, would she ever see him again?