Chapter 35

Chapter 35

"035"

Zhou Sizhe had barely flashed a look of ecstatic joy when Xiao Lancui calmly set the sword back down. "Of course it isn't."

In that split second, Xiao Lancui decided to take back this sword.

Zhou Sizhe's face instantly took on a constipated look. He pressed: "What do you mean?"

Xiao Lancui's face was expressionless. "Emperor Yingzong of Li's reign left behind almost no historical records."

Zhou Sizhe nodded—zero records, in fact. That was exactly why he'd come to Xiao Lancui.

The gap of Emperor Yingzong's era had stumped historians for years. Forget his personal sword—not even a single bowl had survived. It was a total dead zone.

Even the top historians and archaeologists would struggle to authenticate anything from that period.

"Go on." Zhou Sizhe was all ears.

"Emperor Yingzong ascended the throne through military merit and had a passion for collecting famous swords from across the realm." Xiao Lancui spun lies with effortless ease.

Politicians were also masters of sophistry.

He went on, unhurried, "This sword is nothing more than an ordinary iron blade, its craftsmanship far from exceptional. Given Emperor Yingzong's extravagance and lust for luxury—that much is recorded in Dali's official histories."

Zhou Sizhe nodded hard. He'd already scoured every official and unofficial record on Emperor Yingzong over the past few days.

"A plain iron sword like this—do you really think it could've been his?"

"Well..." Zhou Sizhe hesitated.

Deep down, he didn't buy it.

Emperor Yingzong's sword—his personal sword? No way! Even the National Museum didn't have a single artifact from his reign.

But that man—

That man had an aura that made it impossible not to believe him.

It wasn't that he believed the sword was real—it was that he believed in the man.

Zhou Sizhe had also brought in several experts over the past few days, but none could give a definitive answer. Only Xiao Lancui had given him one.

Zhou Sizhe asked, "So it's fake?"

"Not exactly." Xiao Lancui stayed calm. "Based on the craftsmanship and how worn the crack at the tip is, it does come from Dali. But it's not Emperor Yingzong's. It's a plain iron sword, worth—"

Xiao Lancui gave a faint smile. "Probably not worth much."

Zhou Sizhe was deflated. He'd handled a few plain Dali iron swords before—they went for around a million or so. This sword looked no different from those.

A notorious short-lived tyrant in history, and a plain iron sword—of course it couldn't be his personal weapon, let alone one he carried on him.

Zhou Sizhe smiled bitterly. He'd been totally blinded by those three ancient jades!

He now fully believed Xiao Lancui and said, "Thanks so much. I'll send this sword back right away."

A plain iron sword had no resale value. If it had really been Emperor Yingzong's, he was sure he could hype it up to over a hundred million—

Zhou Sizhe sighed.

But Xiao Lancui spoke up: "Is this sword on consignment?"

Zhou Sizhe shook his head. "The seller offered it to the auction house at a set price. Now that it failed appraisal, it's being returned."

Xiao Lancui wasn't surprised. After his death, everything of his would've been disposed of. This iron sword was no exception—it had probably been lost in the shuffle and somehow survived to the modern day.

He said, "I collect Dali items. I quite like this sword. From your professional eye, Mr. Zhou, what do you think it's worth?"

Zhou Sizhe smiled wryly. "Honestly, I've sold Dali iron swords before—around 1.2 million with fees. But... if you want it, the seller probably won't take that price."

That weird guy had quoted fifty million!

"1.3 million. The extra 100,000 is your cut." Xiao Lancui said. "Ask the seller first."

Zhou Sizhe went into another room to make the call.

He was nervous just making the call, scared of offending the other party. The sword was plain, but the ancient jades were real—there might be other antiques and treasures in the seller's stash. He didn't want to burn that bridge.

"Fake?" The man's voice on the phone was icy.

One word, and Zhou Sizhe broke into a cold sweat. He grabbed a tissue to wipe his forehead and explained quickly, "I think you might've been scammed. The expert I consulted is a Dali specialist—that calligraphy piece you saw in the exhibition hall last time, it was Mr. Xiao who spotted it as a copy. I'm confident his appraisal is solid."

A soft laugh came through the phone. "Give it to him. Whatever he offers, take it. Take out your commission and transfer the rest to the usual account."

Zhou Sizhe: "...What?"

"In a few days, I'll send you a batch of items from other dynasties. Sell them however you want. Same rule—no third party finds out about our deals."

He hung up.

Zhou Sizhe gripped his phone, thinking Lu Ao was even weirder than he'd imagined. Truly an odd... mysterious big shot with bottomless wealth.

Zhou Sizhe returned to the lounge. "1.3 million, minus your 500,000 appraisal fee—you pay 800,000."

Zhou Sizhe was actually taking a loss of over 200,000 on this deal.

Xiao Lancui stayed unhurried. He set down his paper bag and said to Zhou Sizhe, "I'm a bit tight on cash right now. The old gentleman's coming to pick up his calligraphy today—pay me for that first. As for the other four pieces, once they sell and I have the money, I can pay the 800,000. I'll come get the sword then."

Zhou Sizhe thought for a moment, then suggested, "How about this—I'd like to work with you long-term. For the remaining four calligraphy pieces, once they're verified, I'll buy them outright at 1 million each. How I sell them after is my business. That's 3.2 million to you. The piece for Mr. Qi is 2 million; after the auction house's 15% commission, that's 1.7 million to you. Total 4.9 million. What do you say?"

The old gentleman's last name was Qi.

Xiao Lancui had no objections. "Deal."

"Then please wait a bit longer."

Zhou Sizhe took the calligraphy pieces and left. Before long, Sun Qinian came in carrying a cup of tea and a few plates of snacks.

He smiled. "We've got coffee too, if you'd prefer—I can swap it out right away."

Xiao Lancui said, "Warm water, please."

Sun Qinian nodded and left. Xiao Lancui watched his retreating figure, which blurred with that of his loyal guard.

Sun Qinian was loyal to him.

After he died, his personal guards must have been dismembered by Lu Ao too.

Xiao Lancui withdrew his gaze, picked up a piece of matcha-flavored cookie, and took a small bite.

Not as good as the matcha milk pudding ice bread.

Zhou Sizhe came back with a big smile. "Old Mr. Qi's money's come through. With those four scrolls added in, do you want a cashier's check or a wire transfer?"

He'd verified them—the four scrolls and the one for Old Mr. Qi were all authentic.

"Transfer."

Business wrapped up, Xiao Lancui turned to leave, but Zhou Sizhe added, "Old Mr. Qi's still outside. He wants to talk to you about the calligraphy. If it's convenient, could you stop by?" He smiled. "Old Mr. Qi's also a big-name Dali collector. His place is packed with treasures—maybe he's got something you'd want."

Xiao Lancui had no real interest in collectibles, unless it was that string of jade beads his mother left him.

Lu Ao's personal sword had surfaced, so maybe his bead bracelet could too—

Xiao Lancui's interest was piqued. "Let's go."

Old Mr. Qi was in another VIP lounge, pacing as he studied the calligraphy, clicking his tongue in admiration. Standing beside him was a tall, handsome young man.

As Xiao Lancui walked in, Zhou Sizhe greeted him warmly. "Old Mr. Qi, Mr. Xiao's here."

The young man and Old Mr. Qi turned at the same time. The light caught the man's smiling face, and Xiao Lancui stopped mid-step, a barely visible crack flickering beneath his calm eyes.

When the man saw Xiao Lancui, his face showed undisguised admiration.

He reached out his hand with a smile. "Hello, Mr. Xiao. I'm Qi Ying."

The man's face overlapped with the one that had knelt and begged behind the fence.

Lu Ao's personal eunuch had also originally been named Qi Ying.

Xiao Lancui thought, this Qi Ying was a different Qi Ying now—the real one would never have smiled at him so warmly.

He didn't return the handshake, just nodded coolly. "Xiao Lancui."

Qi Ying froze for a second, but his grandfather enthusiastically waved Xiao Lancui over. "Mr. Xiao, do you have any other works by this person?"

Old Mr. Qi held up a magnifying glass, barely able to contain his excitement. "I'll take all four of the other scrolls you brought. If you've got more, I'll buy them all—paintings are even better. Price is no object."

Xiao Lancui's calligraphy and paintings had been highly prized during the Dali dynasty, partly for political reasons. Given his immense power at court, one of his early ink plum paintings had been bid up to over a million taels of silver on the black market.

None had survived to this day—Lu Ao must have burned them all.

Xiao Lancui was about to mention the ink bamboo painting he'd dashed off when a voice suddenly came from behind: "Mr. Xiao shares the surname Xiao—could you be a descendant of Xiao Zixian?"

Xiao Lancui's pupils constricted for a split second before returning to normal. Without turning around, he asked coolly, "Who's Xiao Zixian?"

Qi Ying stepped forward, stopping at Xiao Lancui's left side, smiling at him. "I'm a grad student in history at City University, specializing in Dali dynasty history. Based on my research, this calligraphy my grandfather likes might be from a Dali native named Xiao Zixian."

Only then did Xiao Lancui turn his head, meeting Qi Ying's gaze coolly.

Qi Ying was clearly eager to say more. He explained, "This Xiao Zixian was probably a high-ranking official during Emperor Yingzong of Li's reign, skilled in both calligraphy and painting. I've seen a fragment of a plum painting, and the seal on it read Xiao Zixian."

Xiao Lancui nodded, then turned back to keep talking with Old Mr. Qi. As for why he happened to have multiple scrolls suspected to be Xiao Zixian's work, no explanation was needed.

After chatting with Old Mr. Qi for a bit and learning he didn't collect jade artifacts, Xiao Lancui wrapped up the conversation.

Zhou Sizhe personally walked him out of the auction house. Seeing him casually carrying the iron sword without even a sheath, even Zhou Sizhe, who was used to antiques, found Xiao Lancui way too casual.

Even if it wasn't from Emperor Yingzong's time, it was still an ancient Dali sword. Being so casual about it—either he was used to rare treasures, or he had even more valuable stuff at home.

Either way, Zhou Sizhe was determined to get on Xiao Lancui's good side. He said with a grin, "If you ever need anything, Mr. Xiao, don't hesitate to reach out. My auction house is the most professional in the business—I guarantee I can get you top dollar."

Xiao Lancui smiled. "I'll be in touch if the chance comes up."

Running into Old Mr. Qi was a stroke of luck—it was rare to find another collector willing to buy the works of a man erased from history, let alone one with money.

Xiao Lancui hailed a cab on the street. With his funds now in decent shape, he planned to go pick up a car first.

A Range Rover pulled up in front of him. The window rolled down, revealing Qi Ying's smiling face. "Where you headed, Mr. Xiao? I'll give you a ride."

Xiao Lancui declined. "I don't like owing favors to strangers."

Qi Ying had never met anyone so blunt—or rather, so aloof? A man above others, looking down on everyone, not arrogant or rude, but with an innate nobility that required no pretense with anyone.

Qi Ying said, "I guess you wouldn't want to exchange contact info either, Mr. Xiao?"

"Fine." Xiao Lancui agreed after all. Just exchanging contact info—it might come in handy someday.

At the same time, ten paces behind Xiao Lancui to his left.

Lu Ao's knuckles popped loudly.

His dark eyes locked onto the flattered face inside the car.

Murderous intent surged through him.

The filthy maggots that couldn't be killed off had shown up again.

Qi Ying.

Lu Ao had killed him once before.