Chapter Nine: Setting the Goal

The car stopped in front of the auction house. As soon as Zhao Fan got out, he saw Bai Yu toss his car keys to the valet. Zhao Fan glanced over, but didn’t pay much attention. He had no idea Bai Yu was watching him out of the corner of his eye, and when he saw Zhao Fan’s indifferent expression, a flash of disdain crossed his face.

Someone like that was only here because he’d caught a lucky break.

“Yu Qing, I’ll introduce you around in a moment. All the most prominent figures in Yang City are here for this auction today,” Bai Yu said.

Yang Yuqing, who had been chatting with Zhao Fan, smiled and arched her brows. “That sounds great. Zhao Fan, why don’t you join us?”

Zhao Fan’s first instinct was to refuse; he hadn’t misread the hostility Bai Yu showed him. But on second thought, this was his first time attending such an auction, and without someone leading the way, he’d have no chance to meet anyone else.

Since Bai Yu offered the introduction, there was no reason to decline.

“All right.”

In that instant, Bai Yu’s face darkened. What kind of person was this? Hmph, just wait until he was put on the spot—he’d show him what it meant to be embarrassed.

Inside the auction hall, Bai Yu led Zhao Fan and Yang Yuqing around, greeting this secretary, that manager, this boss, and that vice president. After each conversation, Bai Yu would explain the person’s background to Yang Yuqing, then throw a sidelong glance at Zhao Fan before moving on.

All along the way, Yang Yuqing’s face was a picture of surprise, her mouth never short of praise.

Bai Yu grew more and more pleased with himself, shooting a smug look at Zhao Fan.

Catching Bai Yu’s gaze, Zhao Fan was briefly confused. What was wrong with Bai Yu? Did he have a twitch in his eye?

Because of his suspicion, Zhao Fan’s response was a beat slow.

In Bai Yu’s eyes, Zhao Fan was overwhelmed—he grew even more smug. A country bumpkin was always a country bumpkin, out of his depth.

At that moment, an usher appeared and guided the guests, who were still chatting, to their seats.

Yang Yuqing ignored Bai Yu entirely and sat with Zhao Fan. Seeing this, Bai Yu had no choice but to sit on her other side.

Each chair had an auction catalogue so guests could preview the lots. The catalog contained photographs and brief descriptions—nothing too detailed, but enough to provide a general idea. Some items at the back, however, had only images with no descriptions; those would be appraised by experts on site, letting the bidders decide for themselves whether to participate.

Zhao Fan leafed through the booklet and soon found the very reason he’d come—the Song Dynasty Shadow Porcelain “Listening to the Wind” Vase.

In his previous life, this vase had been deemed a replica. Now, it sat in the middle of the auction line-up, further back, its body a dusky blue, wide in the middle and narrowing at the top, with six imitation conch shells encircling the vessel. The overall appearance was pristine, lacking any sense of historical gravity.

No wonder it had been judged a modern fake in his past life. If Zhao Fan hadn’t lived another lifetime and read about this Song Shadow Porcelain “Listening to the Wind” Vase, he wouldn’t have believed it to be genuine.

Remembering the final price from his previous life, Zhao Fan’s hand trembled uncontrollably—120 million. He didn’t need all that; even 100 million would satisfy him.

One shouldn’t be too greedy.

“Well, well, some country bumpkin must be terrified, probably the only time in his life he’ll see such things. Look at him, scared already—this is what you get when you…” Bai Yu started to sneer.

“Bai Yu,” Yang Yuqing interjected quietly, obvious displeasure on her face. She didn’t like Bai Yu treating Zhao Fan this way.

Bai Yu clicked his tongue. “All right, all right, I won’t say it. Yuqing, what do you think of these auction items?”

“They’re nice,” Yang Yuqing replied offhandedly. She turned her head slightly and shot Zhao Fan an apologetic look. “Sorry, Bai Yu just talks like that…”

“It’s nothing,” Zhao Fan waved her off, completely unconcerned about Bai Yu’s attitude. There are people everywhere who look down on others; no need to get angry about it. After all, if a dog bites you, you can’t bite back.

Besides…

He glanced at the catalogue and closed it calmly. He was quite looking forward to seeing Bai Yu’s expression later—his shock would be thoroughly entertaining.

When Zhao Fan didn’t respond, Bai Yu snorted and changed the subject to introduce the auction items to Yang Yuqing.

“This vase, I hear it’s from the Ming Dynasty. My family has one just like it—not rare at all, just worth putting in the living room for show.”

“This small bowl, and—oh, here’s a bracelet supposedly once worn by a palace consort. Has the auction house run out of items? What a bunch of cheap trinkets.”

Bai Yu went through each item, his tone dripping with scorn. He’d thought this auction would have something worthwhile, but it seemed everything on offer was already in his family’s collection.

The only thing remotely interesting was that “Listening to the Wind” vase. But a Song Dynasty piece… could it be real? Impossible. It must be a fake.

Bai Yu pointed out every item in the catalogue to Yang Yuqing.

Zhao Fan appeared indifferent, but listened carefully, noting Bai Yu’s dismissive remarks about the Shadow Porcelain vase, and picking up on the surrounding conversations.

Without exception, everyone who saw the Shadow Porcelain vase believed it to be a replica.

“Even if it’s a fake, it’s still an antique. The price shouldn’t be too low,” someone said.

“It won’t be too low, but it won’t fetch a high price either,” another replied.

“That’s true.”

All around, people chatted and speculated. Sitting among them, Zhao Fan straightened his clothes, a flash of delight in his eyes. Excellent—if everyone thought this way, he’d be able to win the vase for a very low price.

“Hey, what’s the story with this little bowl? Why is it on the auction list?” Yang Yuqing’s voice drew Zhao Fan’s attention. He spotted a plain little bowl in the catalogue. He knew little about antiques, but though the bowl was gray and unremarkable, the image somehow conveyed a sense of comfort, and in some lights, hints of other colors appeared.

“Is that a Ru ware porcelain bowl?” Zhao Fan asked without thinking, only to receive a disdainful look from Bai Yu.

“Ru ware? It’s just a modern imitation. Look at the description and the starting price—it’s obviously not authentic.”

“Exactly, it’s just an ordinary porcelain bowl, a fake Ru ware at best. You can’t judge by appearance alone. This bowl merely resembles the real thing.”

A middle-aged man sitting behind them interjected, his words dismissive of Zhao Fan.

Bai Yu sneered, “If you don’t know, don’t pretend you do. You’re just making a fool of yourself.”

“Listening quietly is best for newcomers,” someone else advised.

Zhao Fan fell silent. Was it really just a resemblance? If even the Song Shadow Porcelain vase could be misidentified, another mistake was entirely possible.

With that in mind, Zhao Fan decided to bid on the bowl as well.

After all, most items selected for this auction would at least be worth their starting price.

Suddenly, Zhao Fan felt someone tug his sleeve. Turning, he saw it was Yang Yuqing.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Don’t argue with them. The prices here are all pretty high, and the appraisers invited by the auction house are all top-notch—there’s little chance of mistakes.”

Zhao Fan smiled. “I know. I won’t argue with them.”