Chapter 325 - 323: Mysterious Antique Shop

A moment later, a somewhat guarded middle-aged man’s voice came from inside. "Who is it?"

"Just passing by. I wanted to see if you have any good stuff," Yang Xun replied, his tone as natural as if he were greeting a neighbor.

The person inside fell silent for two or three seconds before the door opened. A middle-aged man wearing a gray Chinese-style jacket stood in the doorway. He looked to be around fifty, with a rather thin build and a pair of reading glasses. Behind the lenses, his eyes held a scrutinizing gaze.

"Looking to buy or sell?" the middle-aged man asked, looking him up and down with a lukewarm tone.

"Both," Yang Xun said with a faint smile, stepping inside.

The lighting inside was brighter than outside. The antique decor was exquisite; anyone who knew their stuff could tell the renovations alone cost a fortune. There were fewer items in the display cases than Yang Xun had expected, but every single piece had been wiped spotless and positioned with great care. A few pieces of blue-and-white porcelain sat on a curio cabinet in the corner, while a yellowed landscape painting hung on the wall. A copper incense burner rested on the tea table, faintly burning a thread of incense.

Yang Xun’s gaze swept slowly around the shop, acting as if he hadn’t found what he wanted.

"Sir, if anything catches your eye, just say the word. The price is negotiable," the middle-aged man said with a smile.

"I don’t see anything I like. Take a look at what I brought." Yang Xun pulled an inkstone out of his bag.

The inkstone was small, about the size of a palm, and entirely dark brown. Its surface was covered in fine, dense textures that looked both like the stone’s natural grain and the marks left by years of seeping ink. There was an inconspicuous spot of wear along the edge, worn into a smooth, rounded curve that suggested the antique had seen repeated use.

The middle-aged man’s eyes lit up. He immediately stepped closer, took the inkstone, and gently rubbed his thumb across its surface. Instead of quoting a price right away, he flipped the inkstone over to inspect the bottom, then tapped the face twice with his knuckles to listen to the sound.

Only then did he look up, his tone noticeably warmer than before. "I didn’t expect a young gentleman like yourself to actually have such good stuff on hand. This inkstone is an authentic piece from the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, made of Duan stone. While it isn’t the work of a famous master, the material is solid and its condition is immaculate. It’s a proper scholar’s object, not a replica."

"Then make me an offer."

"Well..." The middle-aged man pondered for a moment. "Five hundred thousand."

Yang Xun chuckled. "Do you think I don’t know the market? This inkstone is worth at least a million. However, I don’t want to haggle with you. To tell you the truth, I have a few other treasures on me that are worth even more than this."

Hearing this, the middle-aged man’s eyes lit up again, looking at him with expectation.

Yang Xun waved his hand. "These items are too expensive; you won’t be able to make the call. I want the real boss to appraise them."

The middle-aged man’s gaze paused on his face for a second before he pushed the reading glasses up his nose. "What do you mean, sir? I am the boss here."

"Don’t lie to me. There’s no way you’re the boss," Yang Xun said with absolute certainty.

He had observed the shop closely. The exterior was dilapidated, but the interior renovations were easily worth tens of millions. The man standing before him was dressed ordinarily and subconsciously spoke with a fawning tone—he absolutely could not be the owner. Furthermore, Yang Xun was certain that the person Su Mei had come to meet was definitely not this man.

Their eyes met, and the middle-aged man was the first to yield. Looking somewhat awkward, he said, "Please wait a moment, sir. I’ll make a call."

He turned and walked behind the counter, stepping to the side to dial a number. After hanging up, the middle-aged man walked briskly back over. His tone was much more polite than before. "Sir, our boss invites you upstairs for a chat."

"Give me a second."

Unsure of how long he would be upstairs, Yang Xun took out his phone to call Sun Rao. "I have some things to take care of here. If I don’t come back soon, just take Linglong home first. You don’t have to wait for me."

"Did something happen?" Sun Rao immediately became worried.

"It’s nothing. I just ran into a friend and we have some private business to discuss." Since Yang Xun was still unsure of the background of the person upstairs, he couldn’t say too much.

Sun Rao, however, misunderstood. Assuming he was definitely going off to find some woman, she hung up the phone in a huff.

Feeling somewhat baffled by her reaction, Yang Xun followed the middle-aged man toward a hidden door deep inside the shop. The hinges turned silently, revealing a narrow staircase. The wooden steps had been worn smooth, as if treaded upon by countless people.

He climbed the stairs. Once they reached the second floor, the middle-aged man led him to a carved wooden door and gently knocked twice.

"Enter." A young voice came from inside, carrying a somewhat languid composure.

The middle-aged man pushed the door open and stepped aside. "After you, sir."

Yang Xun strode inside. The room on the second floor was much more spacious and bright than the ground floor. The windows faced south, and sunlight spilled in through half-open blinds, casting parallel bands of light across the floor. The furnishings were elegantly simple and stylish. An old elmwood desk sat by the window, upon which an unrolled scroll was spread out, accompanied by a Duan inkstone and a few writing brushes.

A man sat behind the desk, looking to be about twenty-five or twenty-six. He wore a moon-white Chinese-style mandarin collar shirt with the cuffs slightly rolled up, revealing a pair of well-proportioned wrists. He was looking down at something in his hands and only slowly raised his head upon hearing the door.

It was an exceptionally handsome face. His features were so exquisite they almost seemed unreal, and his brow carried a clear, refined elegance that fell somewhere between a youth and a grown man. His skin was fair, his lips pale, and his jawline was soft and clean. As he looked up, the loose strands of hair on his forehead swayed slightly, like willow branches brushing against the wind outside the window.

Yang Xun’s gaze paused on him for a moment. With his prominent eyebrows, bright eyes, and tall, straight nose, he was indeed an extremely handsome young man at first glance, but Yang Xun couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slightly off.

"Please, have a seat, sir. May I ask your name?" The young man gave him a slight nod, gesturing for him to sit. His voice had a clear, mellow quality—neither too high nor too low. Judging by his tone, he sounded like a gentle person, the kind who would never shout or yell.

"My surname is Yang." Yang Xun sat down in the chair opposite the desk. He set out the inkstone along with a few other small items he had brought from the Tang family.

The young man’s gaze swept over the items one by one. His eyes were much calmer than the middle-aged man downstairs; instead of the excitement of seeing antiques for the first time, he carried the nonchalance of someone who had seen it all. He reached out to touch the objects, his movements filled with a cautious, well-measured sense of propriety.

After a moment of silence, as if he had admired them enough, he finally looked up at Yang Xun. His tone held a note of serious inquiry. "Mr. Yang, do these items have a clear origin?"

"They do," Yang Xun replied with absolute certainty, not bothering to hide anything. "They were gifted to me by the old master of the Tang family. If you don’t believe me, you can call the Tang family to confirm."