Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"018"

Zhengu Auction House opened its doors at nine, and Xiao Lancui grabbed a Matcha Milk Pudding Ice Bread at a convenience store nearby before walking over, getting there right on time.

Zhengu Auction House was located in a bustling area on the Third Ring Road—a standalone five-story building right on the street, with a lotus pond and private open-air parking lot out front—a rare sight in the city.

In winter, the lotus pond looked barren, but the wintersweet tree beside it was covered in golden blossoms, the air carried the fragrance of plum blossoms mixed with a steady, woody scent drifting from the auction house.

Two doormen dressed in traditional Chinese attire stood at the entrance. As Xiao Lancui approached, they immediately bowed and held the doors open for him, greeting him politely with a "Welcome."

Xiao Lancui stepped into the lobby. The first floor was decorated with understated luxury, lined with glass display cases of all sizes, each holding a variety of exhibits under glass.

As he walked further in, everything he could see was a fake.

Plenty of staff worked in the exhibition hall, smiling and greeting Xiao Lancui as he passed, but none followed him. He stopped at a display case featuring a Dali dynasty white porcelain vase.

Still a forgery.

But he didn't stop for the vase—he stopped for the male staff member standing next to it.

Xiao Lancui dropped his gaze, scanning the employee badge the man was wearing. Name: Sun Qinian.

He looked exactly like the Sun Qinian who had guarded him for ten years.

Seeing Xiao Lancui stop, Sun Qinian immediately smiled and asked, "Are you interested in this Ding-ware white-glazed vase from the twenty-seventh year of Dali?"

His face showed no sign of recognizing Xiao Lancui.

Xiao Lancui kept his face blank and gave a faint nod. "This is a counterfeit. Where's the original?"

Sun Qinian looked startled for a moment, then quickly recovered his smile. "You're a real expert! This Ding-ware white-glazed vase is indeed a replica—you're the first person to spot it! The original is in a bank vault and won't be brought back until the day after tomorrow for the auction."

Xiao Lancui gave a slight nod. So the auction had been moved up, just not early enough for Xiao Jingli to run into the stand-in.

Xiao Lancui made up his mind.

He would change this thread of fate—he wouldn't let Xiao Jingli meet the stand-in.

Xiao Jingli had used the stand-in to satisfy his desires for Xiao Anfeng, which had kept him quiet for a while.

Xiao Lancui had no intention of letting him stay quiet.

Xiao Lancui gave a faint smile and asked Sun Qinian, "What time does the auction start the day after tomorrow?"

Sun Qinian replied, "Saturday at three in the afternoon. This time it's a Dali dynasty special—lots of porcelains, jades, and calligraphy from that era..."

"How much for this calligraphy piece from the second year of Tianye?"

A voice nearby cut Sun Qinian off.

The second year of Tianye was the year after Lu Ao took the throne. Xiao Lancui followed the voice and saw, four display cases away, an elderly man with frost-white hair and plain clothes, hunched over with a magnifying glass pressed to the glass, examining the exhibit.

He was practically pressed against the glass.

No other staff were around. Sun Qinian apologized to Xiao Lancui and rushed over.

Sun Qinian glanced at the exhibit and said politely, "This unsigned piece, 'Granary Preface,' dates from the third year of Tianye—"

Xiao Lancui's eyelids flickered slightly, and he walked over.

In the third year of Tianye, Xiao Lancui had also written a scroll of "Granary Preface." That year had brought good weather and a nationwide bumper harvest, with reports of full granaries pouring into the capital from all over, so Xiao Lancui had written a preface for it.

As he approached, Sun Qinian was just saying, "This semi-cursive script hides its sharpness without letting it show—warm and smooth as jade. It's a collector's family heirloom, at least four hundred years old. Though it's unsigned, research suggests the author was a high-ranking official from Emperor Yingzong of Li's era."

Xiao Lancui also saw the "Granary Preface" on display in the glass case.

It was his "Granary Preface"—but a copy, not the one he had written.

Still, it was a copy convincing enough to pass as the real thing. Even if it wasn't by his own hand, it must have come from a master calligrapher.

"You can buy it outright for 2 million," Sun Qinian said from the side. "This piece is authentic, and the seller's asking price is 2 million, not a cent less. Saturday's starting bid is 500,000, with increments of 100,000—the final price is up in the air."

The old man didn't react to the price, moving his magnifying glass across the characters one by one, sighing over and over. "This calligraphy is way too good. Look at this brushstroke, this ending—so grand."

A moment later he said, "I'll take it for 2 million."

Then Xiao Lancui spoke up. "This is a copy."

The old man looked up, and Sun Qinian turned to Xiao Lancui too, quickly saying, "Sir, we can guarantee this piece is authentic."

Xiao Lancui gave a slight smile. "It's a faithful copy of the original, but it's not the original itself."

Xiao Lancui stepped two paces to the old man's left. "Look at the fourth character 'liang' in the third line. The copyist's skill is truly remarkable, but his wrist pressed down too hard at the landing point. The final stroke of the 'liang' character starts sharp but suddenly pulls back at the end, suggesting he was agitated throughout the copying, then inexplicably held back at the finish, giving the final vertical hook an extra touch of softness."

The old man immediately grabbed his magnifying glass to check the fourth character in the third line, a look of delighted realization spreading across his face. He raised his head, eyes gleaming. "You know this piece that well—have you seen the original?"

Xiao Lancui smiled. "I have the original."

Both the old man and Sun Qinian were stunned. But Xiao Lancui didn't say another word—just gave a slight nod and left.

Every transaction on the card Xiao Jingli gave him could be traced. He needed to find another way to make money.

The hundred thousand from Lu Siye wasn't nearly enough.

He hadn't been out of the auction house long when a shout came from behind: "Young man!"

Xiao Lancui stopped. The old man jogged up to block his path, panting but eager to talk. "Can you show me that calligraphy piece?" He paused for a second, then said bluntly, "I really want that piece. If it's the original, I'll give you a price you'll like."

Xiao Lancui glanced back at the auction house—Sun Qinian was running toward them—and said, "Come by the trading house in a week to buy it."

Clean and decisive. The old man was taken aback for a moment, then after two seconds, he smiled and nodded. "Alright."

Xiao Lancui walked on at a leisurely pace. By the time he got near the road, Sun Qinian had caught up.

Sun Qinian had sprinted over, his forehead covered in a fine sweat, but he kept his polite smile. "Sir, would you mind giving me your phone number?" He paused, then admitted, "My boss would like to get in touch with you."

The old man wanting to buy Xiao Lancui's calligraphy hadn't been part of his plan, but it had inadvertently achieved his goal.

Xiao Lancui replied, "Sure."

After leaving his number, Xiao Lancui hailed a taxi and headed to a stationery store.

Fresh calligraphy needed to be aged—that would take about a week.

Faking antique calligraphy and paintings was Xiao Lancui's specialty.

His and Lu Ao's expenses were considerable—daily living costs, recruiting followers, and winning over court officials all cost money.

Earlier on, Xiao Lancui had forged a large number of famous calligraphy and paintings to sell for money.

Once, a forged bamboo forest painting he'd made, valued at several hundred thousand taels of silver, was even passed off as authentic by a local official and sent to the palace.

Lu Ao personally promoted that official, and within a month, the local official shot up three ranks and entered the capital as a court official.

This time, though, he was faking his own work.

Xiao Lancui looked around the stationery store but didn't find the paper, ink, or brushes he liked, so he left and found a restaurant to have lunch. He'd just placed his order when his phone rang.

An unfamiliar local number.

Xiao Lancui answered, and the caller was a very polite-sounding man, "Is this Mr. Xiao? I'm Zhou Sizhe, the owner of Zhengu Auction House."

"Hello, this is Xiao Lancui."

Zhou Sizhe was clearly taken aback, not expecting the appraisal expert to sound so young. But he quickly laughed, "Sorry to reach out out of the blue. I heard you have an authentic calligraphy piece from the Dali reign. If you're interested, my Zhengu Auction House has an excellent reputation in the industry and is very professional. We can definitely get you the best price on the market."

Xiao Lancui smiled, "Not just one—a lot of them."

Zhou Sizhe's breath hitched, "Would now be a good time to meet?"

"No need," Xiao Lancui said. "If you can do me a favor, Boss Zhou, I'll let Zhengu Auction House handle all my calligraphy and paintings from now on."

There's no such thing as a free lunch; Zhou Sizhe was clearly wary, "Please, go on."

"You've got an auctioneer named Sun Xiao at Zhengu. For some personal reasons, I'd like to ask you, Boss Zhou, to move him to the Qiong City branch today."

Sun Xiao was the body double, and Qiong City was far south.

Zhou Sizhe paused for a moment, then said, "I need to check with the employee. Can I get back to you in a bit?"

"Go ahead."

After hanging up, Xiao Lancui's food arrived—a plate of shepherd's purse tossed with shredded mushrooms, half an order of ginger duck, an oyster omelet, and a bowl of fragrant rice.

Xiao Lancui had just picked up his chopsticks when Zhou Sizhe's reply came, "Sun Xiao's on board. I didn't bring you up. When can you come by Zhengu to sign?"

"One week from now," Xiao Lancui smiled.

With that settled, Xiao Lancui began to eat. He still didn't have much of an appetite, so he ate in fits and starts, then took some herbal medicine and pulled out his phone to look for apartments.

He wasn't planning to stay at the Xiao house much longer—he needed to find his own place.

Thanks to the internet, Xiao Lancui quickly found a house he liked by entering keywords.

Third floor with a terrace, two bedrooms, a living room, and a bathroom—an old 120-square-meter place, less than a ten-minute walk to the city library.

Xiao Lancui contacted the agent, and two hours later, he arrived at the property. The photos didn't lie—what you saw was what you got. The terrace was even filled with flower pots. Since it was winter, the flowers hadn't bloomed, but you could imagine how beautiful the terrace would be in spring when everything bloomed.

The appliances were all there, and he could sign and move in that same day with just a suitcase.

Xiao Lancui paid a year's rent plus deposit—the 100,000 yuan from Lu Siye just barely covered it.

After signing the contract and handing over the keys, the agent left. The sofa looked clean, but Xiao Lancui still didn't sit on it. He went to the dining table, pulled out a chair, and sat down, pulling out his phone to shop for the paper, ink, and brushes he wanted.

Rice paper was cheap; ink was pricier at 500 yuan a gram. The brush he wanted was pricey too.

Tight on cash, Xiao Lancui bought two grams of ink and picked out a few budget-friendly brushes, using his new apartment's address for delivery.

By the time he finished everything, it was already afternoon.

The sky was getting dark, and it started to snow.

Xiao Jingli finally called him, "Dong Dong?"

He was testing the waters—it was Xiao Lancui's first night away from home, and he worried Xiao Lancui might have gotten his memories back.

Xiao Lancui wasn't smiling, but his voice had a hint of a smile, "What's up, Dad?"

He didn't mention last night, waiting for Xiao Jingli to bring it up first.

On the other end, hearing nothing out of the ordinary, Xiao Jingli breathed a sigh of relief, and his tone turned cheerful again, "Why didn't you come home last night? Where'd you run off to?"

"Went racing with Lu Siye and the others. A classmate got into a car accident, so I didn't come back." The last part was Xiao Lancui's real point, "Second Brother was there last night too. Didn't he tell you?" He pretended to be surprised, "Don't tell me Second Brother didn't come home either."

Xiao Jingli stopped smiling, and it took him a second or two before he spoke again, "Who had the accident?"

"His name's Huo Shenan," Xiao Lancui stepped out, having tucked both keys under the doormat, and said, "He used to be a friend of mine too."

The capital's upper crust was a small world; Xiao Jingli knew Huo Shenan's dad, so of course he knew who Huo Shenan was. But hearing that Xiao Anfeng had spent another night alone with Lu Siye, he didn't feel like chatting anymore. He asked a couple of random questions, told Xiao Lancui to come home early for dinner, and hung up.

After hanging up, Xiao Lancui texted the landlord, asking him to haul away all the old appliances within two days, then left.

Snow in the capital had never melted easily, back then or now. Xiao Lancui still bought a clear umbrella at the convenience store by the neighborhood gate and walked out into the snow with it.

He didn't like things landing on his face. Because of the snow, he had to wait a while before he could hail a car.

The villa district where the Xiao house was didn't let taxis in, so Xiao Lancui got out at the neighborhood gate.

The moment he got out of the car, Xiao Lancui felt eyes on him from nearby.

Intense. Hostile.