That night, Yan Xixi had insomnia, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
Wan Donglin lay beside her. Hearing her constant restlessness, he couldn’t sleep either and sat up. "Xixi, what’s wrong?"
"Can’t sleep? If you can’t sleep, let’s get up. We can think about our child’s name some more."
"I’ve thought of dozens of names, but none of them feel right. Heh heh, I’ll search for some more."
She mumbled, "You need to search the internet for a name too?"
He said with a perfectly straight face, "When unsure of internal affairs, ask the internet."
Despite her worries, Yan Xixi couldn’t help but giggle.
It was the first time he had seen her laugh in a long time. He perked up, saying enthusiastically, "Since we can’t sleep anyway, come on, I’ll show you something." Read full story at novel•fire.net
He pulled her up, she put on her coat, and they drove out in the dead of night.
In the middle of the night, Yan Xixi had no idea where Wan Donglin was taking her. All she knew was that they drove for a long time before finally stopping.
The house had an unassuming exterior, but its surprisingly tight security measures became clear as they approached. Once they drove onto the property, its immense scale was revealed. They drove for another half hour just along the road that wound around the mountain within the estate before stopping.
Along the way, they saw towering walls over ten meters high, dense wire mesh, and even teams of patrolling guards armed with live ammunition.
The car finally stopped in front of a three-story building.
A guard ran up to open the car door, and an attendant on 24-hour duty hurried to open the main gate.
Yan Xixi was too stunned to dwell on it and followed Wan Donglin inside. It was a large room. When the door opened, the lighting wasn’t typical; it was more like the specialized lighting found in a museum.
Yan Xixi looked around and was momentarily stunned.
The vast room wasn’t filled with rare jewels or exotic treasures, but with calligraphy and paintings—nothing but calligraphy and paintings.
Oil paintings, classical paintings, modern and ancient, Eastern and Western... every kind imaginable was there.
As she walked through, she recognized names like Picasso, Van Gogh, Xu Beihong, Qi Baishi, and Zhang Daqian—even Da Vinci and Wu Daozi!
Another room was filled entirely with calligraphy; she saw works attributed to names like Wang Xizhi, Cao Zhi, Gu Kaizhi, Yan Zhenqing, and Tang Bohu.
She couldn’t believe what she was seeing and held her breath.
Like anyone encountering so many masterpieces for the first time, only one thought ran through her mind: Is this real? Are all of these authentic? If they are, wouldn’t they be priceless?
"These are all authentic. The collection was started by my great-grandfather. It passed to my grandfather, then my father, surviving many turbulent times... Some pieces were even acquired discreetly in recent years..."
The calligraphy and paintings displayed throughout these three floors far surpassed even the collection of a national museum. No wonder the security was so tight.
"Our family also has a house in Switzerland, entirely filled with bronze and jade artifacts. Switzerland hasn’t seen war for the past one or two hundred years, so we keep those items there. When it’s easier for you to travel, I’ll take you to see it."
She had known Wan Donglin was wealthy, but she’d had no idea he was wealthy on this scale! Any single piece here could fetch hundreds of millions at auction, and there were three floors full of them!
And another house in Switzerland!!!
She was silently aghast! She gently touched her belly—was this her good fortune, or a curse?