Chapter 87 All Captured

"One hundred and fifty million, that’s enough," he said.

Wang Er’s smile deepened. "Second Master, I must say, one hundred and fifty million is the Christie’s sale price. No matter what, my price shouldn’t be lower than Christie’s, should it?"

Second Master!

Many present knew exactly who Second Master was. Their glances toward Wu Qingfeng now carried a hint of wariness. He was from Yuanhong Group—a man not easily crossed.

Ignoring the watchful eyes around him, Wu Qingfeng spoke again. "In theory, it shouldn’t be lower. But you must know, your Listening Wind Vase is not as precious as the one at Christie’s."

A slight change flickered across Wang Er’s face. "Second Master, both are Listening Wind Vases from the Song Dynasty. Both are precious—"

"Who says this one is from the Song Dynasty?" Wu Qingfeng cut him off decisively, a mocking glint in his eyes. "At the Yangcheng auction, I was among the final bidders for the Song Dynasty shadow porcelain Listening Wind Vase. I tell you, this one you have—it’s not from the Song Dynasty."

Zhao Fan’s eyes sparkled. "I also think this vase isn’t from the Song Dynasty."

When Wu Qingfeng spoke, no one questioned him. But as soon as Zhao Fan chimed in, doubts immediately surfaced.

"And who are you?"

Zhao Fan smiled faintly. "I’m the one who finally won the Song Dynasty shadow porcelain Listening Wind Vase at auction. My name is Zhao Fan."

With those words, even more eyes turned to Zhao Fan.

"So that’s Zhao Fan? He doesn’t look like anything special."

"You’re funny—judging a man’s worth by his looks?"

"..."

People began to murmur among themselves, each with their own opinions.

Zhao Fan remained utterly unfazed. Let them talk; it wouldn’t cost him a thing.

Both Wu Qingfeng and Zhao Fan had referred to the previously auctioned Song Dynasty shadow porcelain Listening Wind Vase. There was no doubt their words carried great weight—one a man of high status, the other the vase’s former owner. No matter how you looked at it, their judgment was a severe blow to Wang Er’s vase.

As the murmurs grew into a clamor, tinged with skepticism, Wang Er’s expression darkened.

"I hope you two will consider the occasion before you speak. This is the first time I’ve seen someone publicly slap the organizers in the face at an auction."

Wu Qingfeng scoffed. "Calling this an 'auction' is already giving you too much credit. An auction with no appraiser present—can you really call that an auction? Oh, and it’s not even legal."

Not even legal.

If Wang Er’s face had turned sour before, those last few words landed like a heavy blow, leaving him speechless.

Ignoring a thing doesn’t make it go away; the auction at the top floor of the Tianyuan Hotel was indeed illegal.

"Second Master, you—"

Wang Er was so angry he could barely speak, yet he had to keep a smile plastered on his face. For a moment, his features twisted in a rather ghastly way.

Zhao Fan wanted to laugh at the sight—smiling on the outside, cursing inside, nothing described Wang Er better at this moment.

The auction scene ground to a halt. The locals from Yangcheng seemed unbothered, calm as ever. But the foreigners began to grumble. They had come specifically for the Listening Wind Vase—if it wasn’t as precious as the previous one, wasn’t that a deception?

One hundred and fifty million they could pay, but if it wasn’t that rare, then...

Amid the silence, over a dozen people suddenly appeared. At their head was a portly, middle-aged man.

"My apologies, my apologies! My subordinates spoke out of turn and offended you all. Please forgive us!" The middle-aged man bowed and scraped, apologizing to all sides as he approached. Reaching Wang Er, he gave him a shove aside.

"This isn’t your first time at my auctions. You all know how it is with antiques—their authenticity is no secret to you. I won’t waste words. This Listening Wind Vase is in no way inferior to the one auctioned at Christie’s. I’d stake my head on it."

Wu Qingfeng shifted his stance. "Judging by the patterns alone, your vase doesn’t come close to the previous one."

"Second Master, the patterns aren’t the only way to judge a Listening Wind Vase. What matters is the era. This vase is from the Song Dynasty—there’s no doubt about that."

"And then?"

"If two treasures are from the same era, how could their value be determined by patterns alone?"

Wu Qingfeng laughed. "Why don’t you say that bowls on the street, with or without patterns, fetch the same price?"

Street bowls?

No one had expected Wu Qingfeng to compare a Listening Wind Vase to street bowls—it was pure humiliation. But thinking it over, the analogy was apt.

A common bowl, patterned or not, was worth different amounts—how much more so for a Listening Wind Vase?

In an instant, everyone’s gaze shifted to the vase before the middle-aged man, their eyes changed.

Why bid on something that wasn’t unique? Only a one-of-a-kind antique could show off their status. This kind? Not enough!

The middle-aged man’s smile stiffened. Damn that Wu Qingfeng, disgracing him on this occasion—very well!

"That’s not quite right. Does anyone know where the previous Listening Wind Vase ended up?"

Wu Qingfeng’s words couldn’t be turned back, so he tried a different angle. The question piqued several people’s curiosity.

Now, no one cared about the one hundred and fifty million Wu Qingfeng had offered. They waited calmly for the middle-aged man’s answer.

"The previous Listening Wind Vase is now displayed in the Capital Museum—which means it belongs to the state, and has nothing to do with private ownership." He emphasized ‘private’ and said nothing more, but the mood, which had just dampened, now reignited.

If the previous vase belonged to the state and was out of private reach, this one suddenly became more desirable.

Zhao Fan frowned. The chubby man, for all his smiling, was sharp-tongued. With a few words, he had the room stirred up again.

One hundred and fifty million—the price for this vase could go even higher.

Damn it, where’s Fang Tiancheng? Why hasn’t he moved yet?

Just as Zhao Fan grew impatient, a group of men burst in.

"Police business—everyone, hands on your heads, stand up!"

…

After a deathly silence, chaos erupted.

But the turmoil was short-lived, quickly suppressed by the police.

No one dared to move in the face of their guns. Zhao Fan, though restrained like the rest, was much more relaxed.

His gaze shifted and he saw Fang Tiancheng enter along with another man. Both looked grave as they strode to the vase.

"This is the item they were auctioning tonight—the priceless Song Dynasty shadow porcelain Listening Wind Vase."

Fang Tiancheng’s expression was complex. These people were bold—there was nothing they wouldn’t dare to auction. Reckless to the point of madness.

The other man gave a cold snort. "Just seize the item and bring everyone to the police station for questioning."

Under police control, every person of note was taken to the station.