Chapter 87: The Plan to Make a Name

“Brother Feng! Whatever you need, just say the word! I’d walk through fire for you, no questions asked!” Zhang Hu thumped his chest, wearing an air of unwavering loyalty.

Qin Feng shook his head helplessly. “Alright, stop making a scene here. Don’t add to my troubles. Go and find out if there’s been any unusual activity on Antique Street lately.”

“Antique Street? Why are you interested in that?” Zhang Hu looked puzzled.

“Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t. Just go,” Qin Feng said, putting on a mysterious air.

Zhang Hu pursed his lips but didn’t dare press further. He knew Qin Feng always had his reasons.

Not long after, Zhang Hu came running back, brimming with excitement. “Brother Feng, I’ve got news! Next month there’s going to be an appraisal convention on Antique Street. It’s going to be a huge event!”

“An appraisal convention?” A gleam flashed in Qin Feng’s eyes—this was a golden opportunity.

“That’s right, Brother Feng! Are you planning to attend? I heard the judges this year are all big names in the antique world. If we can impress them, our Tianfeng Pavilion will finally make a name for itself!” Zhang Hu said, barely able to contain his excitement.

A sly smile played at the corners of Qin Feng’s lips. “Smart thinking!”

…

In the capital, at the Wang family villa.

Wang Teng lounged on a spacious leather sofa, a glass of red wine in hand, a sinister smile on his face. “Qin Feng, you think you can go up against me? You’re still too green.”

He downed his wine in one gulp, eyes flashing with malice.

“Young Master, is this Qin Feng really that formidable?” asked a seductive woman nestled against him, her voice honeyed and sweet.

“Hmph, just a bumpkin who dares to vie with me for a woman. He should know his place,” Wang Teng sneered.

“So, what are you planning to do about him?” the woman asked, tracing circles on his chest with her delicate fingers.

“Don’t worry. I’ve made all the arrangements. At this appraisal convention, I’ll see to it he’s utterly disgraced!” A vicious glint lit up Wang Teng’s eyes.

He wanted to ruin Qin Feng in front of everyone at the convention, to show him exactly what happens to those who cross him.

Just then, Wang Teng’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen—Yang Tianchen.

He suddenly remembered hearing rumors that Yang Tianchen had opened a shop with Qin Feng. He hadn’t believed them; after all, how could a scion of a major capital family do business with a nobody from out of town?

But now, he was beginning to wonder—could it be true?

He answered the call, but before he could say a word, Yang Tianchen’s furious voice exploded from the other end. “You bastard! If you want a beating, just say so! If you lay a finger on my people, I swear I’ll come smash your bar right now!”

Wang Teng was stunned, his phone nearly slipping from his grasp.

Yang Tianchen—famed in the capital for his violence and martial prowess. Since childhood, everyone except the Li family’s heir had tasted his wrath.

“Young Master Yang, what do you mean? I have no quarrel with you—”

Wang Teng tried to explain, but Yang Tianchen cut him off sharply.

“No quarrel? You dare mess with my brother and claim there’s no grudge? Do you know who I protect? You dare touch my people?”

Yang Tianchen’s voice was so fierce it rattled Wang Teng’s eardrums. Wang Teng had always been arrogant, but even he wouldn’t dare provoke someone like Yang Tianchen lightly.

“Young Master Yang, I truly didn’t know he was your brother! If I’d known—”

Wang Teng’s voice trailed off, growing weaker as he himself realized how feeble his excuse sounded.

“Cut the crap! I’m telling you, this isn’t over! Just you wait!” Yang Tianchen snapped, hanging up without another word.

Listening to the dead line, Wang Teng’s face turned livid. The woman beside him, seeing his mood, dared not make another move and asked timidly, “Young Master, what’s wrong?”

Wang Teng shoved her aside in anger. “Get out!”

Pale with fright, she scrambled away, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Wang Teng clawed at his hair, trying to calm himself. He had thought Qin Feng was just a country bumpkin without connections, someone he could crush at will—never expecting he was tied to Yang Tianchen!

“Damn it! Who the hell is this guy?” Wang Teng ground his teeth, eyes filled with venom.

…

Qin Feng, of course, was unaware of Wang Teng’s predicament. He was busy discussing the upcoming appraisal convention with Zhang Hu.

“Brother Feng, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! If we make a splash at the convention, Tianfeng Pavilion’s reputation will soar!” Zhang Hu exclaimed, already envisioning a future of endless fortune.

Qin Feng smiled faintly. “Don’t get too excited. It’s not that easy to participate in an appraisal convention.”

“Don’t worry, Brother Feng. I checked—so long as you pay the entry fee, anyone can join!” Zhang Hu assured him, thumping his chest.

Qin Feng shook his head. “It’s not about the entry fee. These conventions may claim to be about sharing expertise, but in reality, they’re cesspools of hidden agendas.”

“Cesspools?” Zhang Hu looked at him in confusion.

“Think about it. Those so-called big shots in the antique world—how many of them are genuinely willing to help newcomers? They’re all arrogant, guarding their treasures as if their lives depended on it. Do you really think they’d share their knowledge?” Qin Feng asked.

Zhang Hu paused, realizing the truth in his words. Indeed, those grandmasters treated their collections as more precious than their own lives—they’d never reveal their secrets so easily.

“So, what do you think we should do, Brother Feng?” Zhang Hu ventured.

“We’ll go to the convention, but keep our expectations in check. Treat it as a chance to broaden our horizons,” Qin Feng replied, a glint in his eye.

“Brother Feng, you’re not planning to…” Zhang Hu’s face lit up with excitement, guessing at his intentions.

Qin Feng merely smiled, saying nothing, his meaning clear without words.

…

Time flew by, and soon the day of the appraisal convention arrived.

Antique Street was packed to the brim, teeming with excitement. Collectors and enthusiasts from all over the country, along with opportunists looking to profit, had flocked to witness the grand event.

When Qin Feng and Zhang Hu arrived, the crowd was already so dense it was nearly impossible to move. Vendors hawked their wares, haggling voices rose and fell, and the chaos resembled a boiling pot.

“Brother Feng, this crowd is insane!” Zhang Hu gasped, barely able to breathe amid the throng.

Qin Feng, however, remained unruffled. “Relax. This is nothing. Once we’re inside, it’ll be even more crowded.”

As they spoke, the two of them were swept along by the crowd toward the entrance of the convention.