Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Old Master's Origins

But the guests were mostly gathered around a landscape painting that had just been hung, their faces flushed with excitement as they argued in low voices.

The crackle of firecrackers gradually faded, and a faint smell of gunpowder lingered in the air, yet it did nothing to dampen the lively atmosphere inside the antique shop.

People clustered in twos and threes, talking about antiques and calligraphy or paintings, breaking into exclamations from time to time.

Zhang Hu was squeezed into the crowd, grinning like a lucky cat, offering a cigarette to everyone he met.

So infectious was his celebratory mood that anyone who did not know better might have thought it was his wedding day.

"Brother Feng, this painting is no ordinary thing. The more I look at it, the more it seems like..." Yang Tianchen leaned close to Qin Feng’s ear and lowered his voice, only to trail off in hesitation.

Qin Feng smiled faintly, lifted his teacup for a sip, and said unhurriedly, "Like what?"

"Like... like..." Yang Tianchen scratched his head. "I can’t really put it into words. Anyway, it just feels extraordinary. Even more uncanny than those by Tang Bohu or Zheng Banqiao."

Qin Feng did not answer. He merely gave a smile heavy with meaning.

He could not explain the painting’s origins himself, but he could feel that it was anything but ordinary. Beneath its surface seemed to lurk a mysterious force, subtle yet undeniable, one he dared not underestimate.

At that moment, a stir ran through the crowd as an old man with silver hair, youthful complexion, and remarkable vigor entered, surrounded by a group of people.

He wore a traditional Chinese tunic suit and idly rolled a pair of jade spheres in his hands; with every step he took, he carried an air of authority that needed no anger to command respect.

"It’s Master Yu!" someone in the crowd recognized him and cried out in alarm.

Master Yu, whose given name was Yu Qilin, was the chairman of the Antique Association and a man of great prestige in the world of antiques. No one in the trade did not know his name.

When he was young, he had traveled far and wide and honed a pair of keen, piercing eyes; among all the antiques he had appraised, not a single one had ever proven false.

As soon as he stepped through the door, his gaze was caught by the landscape painting.

He strode straight up to it and studied it closely.

The people around him instinctively made way, holding their breath for fear of disturbing him.

Master Yu narrowed his eyes for a moment, then took a few steps back, his brows furrowing as if lost in deep thought. After a long while, he finally let out a long breath, his eyes flashing with excitement, and murmured to himself, "Marvelous, marvelous! This brushwork, this artistic conception—it is no ordinary piece, no ordinary piece at all!"

He turned around and fixed Qin Feng with a bright, penetrating gaze. "Young man, name your price for this painting."

Qin Feng smiled slightly and said with calm composure, "Master Yu, you flatter me. I only came upon this painting by chance; it hardly has any value to speak of."

"Young man, there’s no need to be modest. I’ve been in the antiques trade for decades—what kind of treasures have I not seen? This painting is absolutely a rare and exceptional masterpiece!"

As he spoke, Master Yu raised one finger. "How about this: I’ll offer you ten million. Sell me the painting."

The moment those words were spoken, the crowd erupted.

Ten million for a painting—by their reckoning, it was nothing short of fantasy.

"My God, ten million! I’ll never see that much money in my whole life!"

"That young man has unbelievable luck. Any random painting and it’s worth that much!"

"Master Yu’s judgment can’t be wrong. This painting must be some peerless treasure!"

Listening to the chatter around him, Zhang Hu’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. He seized Qin Feng by the arm and said excitedly, "Brother Feng, ten million! Sell it! We’d never have to worry again for the rest of our lives!"

Qin Feng patted his hand to calm him, then looked at Master Yu and said firmly, "Master Yu, thank you for your kindness, but I’m not selling this painting."

Master Yu clearly had not expected to be refused. He froze for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter.

"Good! Young man, you’ve got guts! This painting will be even more valuable in your hands than in mine!"

After a pause, he went on, "How about this: this weekend, I’ll be hosting an antiques exchange at the Antique Market. Bring this painting and come join us. Let more people have the chance to appreciate this work!"

Qin Feng considered it briefly, then nodded. "Very well. I shall defer to your invitation."

"Hahaha!" Master Yu seemed delighted. "Then I’ll be waiting for you at the exchange!"

With that, he led his entourage out of the antique shop.

The crowd slowly dispersed. Zhang Hu was still reeling from the ten million offer; he dropped into a chair, panting, and said, "Brother Feng, y-you really didn’t sell it? Ten million..."

Qin Feng only smiled and said nothing. He walked to the landscape painting and gazed at the mountains and waters in the scroll with profound eyes.

Just then, another voice sounded in his ear.

"Young man, you haven’t forgotten me, have you? This old man is here to collect the painting!"

Qin Feng turned and looked. Wasn’t this the very old gentleman who had met him at the appraisal event the other day and helped build momentum for him?

"Heh, Elder, you’ve come. Of course I wouldn’t forget you. I’ve kept the painting for you all this time!"

Qin Feng carefully lifted the scroll from the curio shelf, his movements as gentle as if he were handling his own child.

As the painting unfurled slowly, a cool breeze seemed to sweep through the room, carrying with it the fragrance of grass and wood from the mountains beyond.

"What a painting!!"

The old gentleman stroked his white beard, his eyes full of admiration. "Young man, your eye is truly ruthless!"

Zhang Hu listened in a daze. He had examined this painting no fewer than ten times from beginning to end—how had it suddenly become a genuine work by Tang Bohu?

He scratched his head and asked, baffled, "Brother Feng, what... what exactly is going on here?"

Qin Feng smiled but gave no explanation. Instead, he said to the old gentleman, "Your vision is extraordinary, and I am deeply impressed. I only wonder what has brought you here today, sir?"

The old gentleman chuckled and pointed at the painting. "I’m here for the painting, of course.

A few days ago, I saw you being made things difficult for at the appraisal conference, so I stepped in to lend you a hand..."

"You flatter me, sir. It was nothing more than a small favor."

Qin Feng naturally understood what the old gentleman meant, but he was not someone who allowed others to lead him by the nose so easily.

"Hahaha, you really are sharp!" The old gentleman laughed warmly a few times. "But I’ve truly taken a liking to this painting. Tell me your price. As long as it isn’t too outrageous, I’ll take it!"

Zhang Hu, standing to one side, grew so anxious it felt as though his heart were on fire. He wanted nothing more than to answer for Qin Feng himself. This was Tang Bohu’s true work—how much could it possibly fetch?

"Old sir, you know this painting means a great deal to me..."

Qin Feng deliberately put on a troubled expression. "However, since you’ve made the request, I cannot be so lacking in manners as to refuse. How about this: if you can answer one question for me, I will present this painting to you with both hands!"