Chapter 190 - 189: Clearly Priced, No Bargaining, No Guarantees

Chapter 190: Chapter 189: Clearly Priced, No Bargaining, No Guarantees

Afterward, a man in a traditional tunic invited the two inside. Rian Sinclair waited for Noel Sutton to enter first before following, since Noel was the main guest this time, not her.

Upon entering the courtyard, they realized that the scenery described in *Peach Blossom Spring*—"Walking a few dozen steps further, the view suddenly opened up. The land was flat and spacious, with neatly arranged houses, rich fields, beautiful ponds, and mulberry and bamboo groves"—actually existed in real life.

Rian looked at the decor with a hint of surprise, but quickly masked her astonishment, covertly assessing her surroundings. The courtyard was structured like a traditional quadrangle. Just past the entrance lay a pond, with trees planted beside the rockery and fish pool. In the center of the water sat a statue of an old turtle. The doors of the side rooms on three sides were shut tight. To the right, an old man sat in a small pavilion, the table in front of him covered with various items.

Rian quietly followed by Noel’s side as the man who had opened the door led them to the pavilion. His hoarse voice rang out, "I’ve brought them."

The old man glanced up and waved his hand, dismissing the attendant to the side. He then looked at the arrivals. Seeing it was just a young lad and a young girl, his eyes filled with scrutiny and disdain.

"Why did Sutton the Old Scoundrel send two wet-behind-the-ears fledglings? Each generation truly is worse than the last."

His tone dripped with mockery. While Rian didn’t mind much, Noel fired right back. "My grandfather had some business and couldn’t come in person, so he specially sent me to make the trade. Please rest assured, sir. I may be young, but I know my stuff."

Rian shot Noel a glance but remained silent. A moment later, her phone screen flashed. She turned slightly to check the notification, surprised to find a message from Grandpa Sutton.

[Grandpa Sutton: Young Miss Sinclair, you’re with Noel, right? Hold that brat back for me. Don’t let him walk around looking like he owns the place. Make him show some respect. If he doesn’t listen, tell him the hickory stick is waiting for him.]

Rian fell silent for a few seconds. She looked at Noel, then back at the message, before quietly locking her screen and slipping the phone into her pocket.

It was too late, she thought. Grandpa Sutton’s grandson had already mouthed off. Noel just had to wait to get a taste of the hickory stick when he got back—nice and stinging.

Unbothered by the retort, the old man merely furrowed his brow at Noel and snorted. "The biggest taboo in the antique trade is arrogance. It seems you’ve learned your grandfather’s bad temper to a tee."

Noel wanted to snap back, but how could Rian just stand by and watch after receiving Grandpa Sutton’s message?

Naturally, she couldn’t. She reached out and silently grabbed Noel’s wrist.

He turned around in confusion, and Rian smiled. "An elderly man’s hickory stick still packs quite a punch."

"The hickory stick" was clearly a little code between the grandfather and grandson. The moment the words left her mouth, Noel deflated. Rian naturally understood the slang, as it could be heard all over the villages in Basilia. Sparing his pride, she didn’t laugh out loud, only curling her lips into a faint smile and releasing his wrist as soon as she finished speaking.

Rian hadn’t spoken loudly, but since they were standing so close, the old man overheard her. Curiosity filled his eyes as he looked at her. Rian gave a slight nod out of politeness, which the old man acknowledged with a nod of his own, though his words still carried a sting.

"Young Sutton, you should learn a thing or two from the girl beside you.

"You still need to go back and seriously study your etiquette and respect for your elders. If you lose face, it won’t just be your own.

"Remember the Sutton Family and the Collins Family standing behind you."

The old man glared at Noel with absolute disgust. Noel, however, didn’t dare talk back this time and simply swallowed his pride. The old man didn’t press the issue further. Pointing at the items on the table, he leaned back in his chair.

"These items have fixed prices. No haggling. You know the rules of the trade—no guarantees. Everything was brought over from The Garden of Antiquities."

The old man lounged comfortably, showing no concern whatsoever for the wares on his table. However, the name "The Garden of Antiquities" resonated across the entire nation. It was a famous historical workshop in Veridia. Boasting a history of several centuries, it stood far above the Sutton Family, who had merely built their fortune on antiques. Yet, no one knew that Old Mr. Sinclair was the one behind it, as the true owner of The Garden of Antiquities was incredibly mysterious.

Noel finally realized the other party’s identity. He cupped his hands and bowed. "So it is Old Mr. Sinclair. I meant no offense earlier; please forgive me."

Old Mr. Sinclair shot Noel a look of distaste and waved his hand. "Don’t. My old bones can’t handle such a respectful bow from you. You’re much better off keeping up that arrogant, ignorant attitude of yours."

Noel’s face flushed with embarrassment, but knowing the old man’s identity, he ultimately kept his mouth shut.

The old man lowered his eyes and took a sip of his tea. He didn’t look at Noel again, though his words continued to pierce the young man’s pride. "That’s more like it. When faced with an uncertain situation, learn from how you’re acting right now. Silence is the best etiquette."

Noel had no choice but to nod in agreement to the old man’s words. Old Mr. Sinclair rarely made public appearances, so Noel simply hadn’t known who he was. He had only snapped back because he couldn’t bear hearing his respected grandfather being insulted. Rian Sinclair’s expression remained unchanged. She was well aware that Old Master Sutton’s reputation was indeed quite prominent.

Seeing this, Noel didn’t dare make any more bold claims and shifted his attention to the antiques on the table. Every piece had a price tag, but whether they were authentic or fake was entirely up to his own discerning eye. It wasn’t that major workshops never had fakes; rather, they had fewer of them, fearing they would ruin their own reputation. However, to date, there had never been a single rumor of a forgery coming out of The Garden of Antiquities.

Rian stood off to the side, watching Noel make his selection. Every antique did indeed have a fixed price tag, but they were all over a million, with some easily reaching tens of millions. Looking at the old man’s lazy posture, it was highly likely that the truly top-tier goods—the antiques worth hundreds of millions or even over a billion—hadn’t even been brought out.

The old man lounged leisurely while the man in the traditional tunic gently fanned him with a palm-leaf fan. Rian remained standing nearby, and Noel, having donned white gloves, patiently sorted through the items.

Old Master Sinclair would occasionally offer a few pointers from the sidelines. He truly couldn’t stand seeing such foolishness bumbling around right in front of him. It was simply a reflex forged from decades of dealing in antiques. Even so, his words remained as unforgiving as ever. As Rian stood there, she completely lost count of how many times Old Mr. Sinclair called Noel stupid.

"Noel, say that’s from the Qing Dynasty one more time! I’ll have your grandfather beat you, do you believe me?

"Is that how you examine an item? Has everything you learned gone straight to the dogs?

"You..."

Hearing Old Master Sinclair lose his temper was rather amusing to Rian. While she wasn’t paying attention, the man standing beside Old Master Sinclair brought over a chair and placed it behind her.

Rian looked up, catching Old Master Sinclair’s gaze just in time. Old Master Sinclair gave her a nod before turning back to continue berating Noel. She didn’t stand on ceremony. Curling her lips into a faint smile, she took a seat. After all, she was getting tired of standing, and if she could sit, why wouldn’t she?